#it's more like i'm trying to think about what works and what doesn't

[evilminji]

Back on my: Holotuber Jedi Youngling - OC Thoughts >.>

Prev <-

You think folks debate at first? Shtick or Real Thing? Like? No... no WAY could that be one of those Mysterious Mystic Space Cult Kids. No WAY. They would NEVER let their kid be unsupervised on the Net.

But like... (and since I'm a She, gonna use She, but realistically could be any pronouns here) she LOOKS like she's recording from a...? Is that a closet? This one looks like a vent. THIS video is definitely some sort of maintenance area. So she's definitely sneaking...

Ooooh! Thaaaat's a Jedi! REAL FUCKING JEDI. Just dropped down silently behind her. Arms crossed. Mouse droids be snitching. BUSTED.

:T

"Uuuuuuh, h-heeey, Master Uvalii. Fancy seeing YOU here!"

"Yes. Quite interesting isn't it? Since you should not be able to access this area at all, much less to achieve holonet access. Of which we are both aware you are expressly Forbidden To DO unsupervised."

".........I can explain?"

"Please. Do."

*feed ends, chat goes fucking NUTS*

Like? Oh SHIT. Baby Jedi in troooouble. But also? Oh no! What's gonna happen?! Are they gonna be okay?! S-should they TELL somebody? What do Jedi do to kids who disobey them? Does anyone actually KNOW? What DO any of us know about them!? Someone find their Com Code! MA! MA, I need you to yell at space monks! An adorable CHILD MIGHT BE AT STAKE!!! D:>

Even coming BACK on? For a supervised feed? Going "no, I'm just in trouble. Have to right paragraphs and meditate on 'why I felt the need to do this' (even though I KNOW why, not that they'll LISTEN. They just hope I'll meditate until I come to an answer they LIKE)" under the offscreen supervision of a teacher or Creche master?

Whole ass Net gonna be like "youngling! Blink Twice if they're holding you hostage! We can afford bounty hunters! We got a group pot thing going already!!! Aaaaaaaa-!"

Like? *waves at the camera and chat* she TOLD you. They don't believe you. This is part of WHY she wants to do what she's doing. Palpatine's and his Master's machinations have been building for a while. Eroding trust. The Jedi have become strange, dangerous, semi-mythical cryptids with magic powers we must HOPE are benevolent.

Not people.

Why would they expect some unfeeling, magical, sword-wielding space legend to be patient or kind to children? To even have the capacity? We are said to kidnap children and be unfeeling. Can not reach enough people to show otherwise. To reveal the mundanity of our lives. The traditions. The norms.

Food, children, laughter.

The Common Good.

And like? She obviously isn't gonna name Sith-ly NAMES. Not on CAMERA. But her lil "why I wanna play the tooka game and chat about lunch" speech? Convincing. Calms chat down. Still in trouble, mind you. But... provided it's SUPERVISED? And they work out some sort of effective moderation? Alright.

It's a matter of SAFETY, youngling. And no matter HOW much good you wish to do? They will NOT be sacrificing children to achieve it. That is NOT the Jedi way. There are plenty of old masters who would live nothing more then to ramble all day into cameras, if only to here themselves talk. (Oh? Good to know. Guest speakers pog?)

Like? Imagine making a game. Have a "mystical sage" character you TOTALLY BASED of Jedi in it. And your feed gets? Flooded with XD reactions in response to some smol bby streamer playing it? You go to check it out. Cause you're kinda a big deal on your planet. And?

Oh No™

That tiny streamer? Is a tiny JEDI streamer. Who is sitting there, in the stills, going O.o like "Wut." And the next still? Her lil friends are pulled in. The next? A teenager. The NEXT. An adult. The one after THAT. A few adults looking over her shoulder. Then a CROWD. All deeply, deeply confused looking.

The comments are DYING. Howling with laughter. The Jedi were so earnest. Trying to identify which Era you must be referencing. Which sect. But the head dress... cultural, maybe? It doesn't fit with the features though. Could be adopted. A hint at, I believe the term was, "lore"? No, no, those are DEFINITELY padawan beads! But so MANY? In THAT order?

They aren't even connected to a braid! And he's supposed to be a Master, right? But, wait. Perhaps it's meant to suggest he is a Padawan of the Force itself? A student of life? No, that wouldn't make sense! Stolen? It could suggest he has TAKEN the beads? Is regurgitating stolen texts without true understanding? Much like wearing bead he did not EARN?

They keep going and going. Ripping your character design to SHREDS. Picking it apart. Not even meanly! They are genuinely confused. AND IT ONLY MAKES THE CHAT LAUGH HARDER. Because it devolves into a MARATHON, after the game has been paused, of chat spamming different character names? For the Jedi to go "???" Over.

T...that's not? What? How does he even EAT in those robes? And those ones don't seem very non-humanoid friendly. Is he FLOATING HIS SWORD WITH THE FORCE? WHY!? Just keep it on your belt!!!

And? Now every game developer in the galaxy is PARANOID AF. Either make their mystics Very Obviously NOT Jedi rip offs... or shoot a "if I pay you $20 will you consult on something real quick" email. It's just... just easier man. Last guy got laughed into oblivion. Oof.

They can bill it as "Realism" or something. See guys? WE do or reasearch! Give us your credits!

Oh YEAH? Says the growing fan base of this Funky Lil Monk Child. Then put you game where your communication organs are. Send her the game, you cowards.

Do It.

Cut to "oh no, guys! The sorta-jedi died! What? Next objective? No. No we gotta give him a funeral! Oh good, we ca-BURY HIM?! What!? No!!! I could understand if he was from a race that held beliefs that bodies must be returned to the soil from whence they came, but this guy is a SORTA-JEDI! Absolutely NOT!"

"Let's cut down some trees. WE are building him a PYRE. Never ran one of these, but I can look it up. Gimme a moment. Okay. Draaaaag, him on to it. Where's his weapon. There! Thanks chat! On it goes too. Okay. Looking it up..... got it. Ahem...!"

*hold funeral for the sage character by burning his body*

*mods are IMMEDIATELY created to change the "burial" scene to a "Funeral pyre" with somber music*

Just? I can not let go? Of how the subtle shift would spread? Not in shining senatorial halls, but in class rooms and living rooms, dingy pubs and long hyperdrive flights? Anywhere boredom might be found and "hey check this out" might spread? Where someone else, might overhear and get curious?

Lik?? Imagine being the bounty hunter, who fuckin HATES Jedi, thinks they're sanctimonious BASTARDS, hearing someone snort laugh. Just... just fucking CHOKE on their cheep beer. Oh? Now everyone's interested. What's funny?

It's a teeny, tiny, lil jedi youngling. Playing that new Bounty 5 game. Unrealistic as hell. But they are going "I am a MASTER of stealth. A LEGEND of the hunt. You will not see me. I am sneaky. So, so, sneeeeakyyyyy!" As they concentrate on sneaking through back alleys.

Only for their character to fall RIGHT of a ledge, bounce against three buildings, smash into a parked Speeder, and roll right into a cut scene. Where they are call the "greatest bounty hunter of all time".

They look so incredulous.

"Are you SURE? Cause I'm fairly certain that phrase alone is banned for the trouble it causes, near most Bounty outposts. Could be the concussion talking though!"

They are? A sarcastic lil SHIT. Roast EVERYTHING. Know a surprising number of them. Given that they gave the Duros support character a modded in hat. Named him Definitely-Not-Cad. The fake look mustache REALLY sells it. Yeah, Bane. Clearly not you. YOU don't have a mustaches. *watches as she unleashes the Not Cad Bane like a highly tactical meat thresher on legs* brutal lil shit. They like her.

Granted, it's only BECAUSE it's not real she does so.

But I just? Have so many ideas? Spam the Galaxy with "this is who we are. We are people. Develop bonds with us. Care about us. KNOW us." Because the Sith can not possibly kill us all. Can not stop truth, so widely spread. Light dies, when you smother it in closed hands, hidden away in dark and long forgotten places. When you let fear dictate your actions.

It thrives in the open. With people. With the chance to SPREAD. Grow. Bloom.

It's about talking and caring. Being heard. What better place? Then on the screen in their pocket?

@babbling-babull @hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @spidori

[jetii]

Hello! I was wondering if I could 36 NSFW with Tech x fem!reader? Maybe where he said that nobody really gave him a challenge at the game, and readers ego is too high to back down from that offer even though she loses horribly. Established relationship perhaps? Also, I love your writing it’s amazing! You deserve all the love and followers

Hiii I'm so happy you requested this!!! I've been addicted to playing Kessel Sabacc in SW Outlaws for the past few weeks, and I was just waiting for the opportunity to work my knowledge into a fic. Literally wrote this as soon as I saw it in my inbox.

I consider this reader the same as the one from On Impulse if anyone cares!

Strategy

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,069

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, established relationship, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, light dom Tech, rough (but affectionate) sex

Prompt: 36. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Pure sabacc," you announce, throwing down your cards and leaning back in your chair. A relieved grin spreads across your face at Tech's expression. His mouth is a thin line and his eyes are squinted, but there's an exasperated glint in them.

"Yes, I know," he grumbles, dropping his own cards on the table. Tech isn't a sore loser, but he is a competitive one. And the fact that this is the second hand you've won in a row is definitely irking him.

You snatch up his discarded cards and start to shuffle. "What was that about me never winning a round?"

"It is an anomaly," Tech states emotionlessly.

"And you've done the calculations to prove it, haven't you?"

He doesn't answer.

"Well, maybe I'm just lucky tonight." You cross your arms, reveling in his annoyance. "You know, I was beginning to think you were cheating with all the times you've been winning."

Tech rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's fighting off a smirk.

"I wouldn't cheat. Besides, I don't need to. My superior memory allows me to calculate the chances of each outcome with ease, making me naturally skilled at the game. Whereas you," he continues, leaning across the table and resting his elbows on it, "must rely on luck, because your memory is abysmal. It's no surprise you've been losing so often."

"Hey!" you protest, tossing a card at him. It flutters through the air, but he catches it before it hits his goggles.

Tech leans forward, the card trapped between his index and middle finger. "I am merely pointing out the facts, darling."

You snatch the card from him and return it to the deck, refusing to meet his smug gaze. He's trying to distract you, and he knows it's working.

"You can't always rely on the facts," you say, dealing the cards out once again.

"I don't. I also use strategy. Which you should try, seeing as it would certainly help you win."

"Strategy?"

"Yes, like—"

"Like how you're trying to distract me by insulting my memory?"

Tech huffs a breathy laugh and tilts his chin down. "Is it working?"

"Absolutely not." You glance down at your cards, trying your best not to smirk at your hand. Another sylop. The deck is stacked in your favor this round, and you have a perfect chance of beating Tech.

"What do you say we make this more interesting?" you propose, watching Tech's head tilt in curiosity.

He places a chip down and draws a card before his eyes dart back to yours. "I'm listening."

"Strip sabacc."

Tech's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he almost drops the cards he's holding. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me," you tease, setting your cards down. "Whoever loses a round has to remove an item of clothing. If you lose all your clothes before I do, I win. If I lose mine first, you win. Deal?"

He takes a moment to contemplate the suggestion, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and his eyes narrow, calculating the possibilities. When his lips curve into a smirk, you know he's made up his mind.

"Deal," he agrees, nodding once and adjusting his goggles. He lays down his cards face up—pair of ones. You frown at your own hand and drop them onto the table.

"Oh, come on! Again?"

Tech chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I believe you're the one who suggested this game. Now, please, take off an item of clothing."

The cockiness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Tech may be a terrible flirt, but his confidence in himself is incredibly sexy.

You slip your boots off and kick them under the table, then lean back in your chair and cross your arms. Tech's eyes are locked on you, a devious smile playing at his lips.

"Now who's distracted?" you taunt, winking at him.

"Hardly," he answers. But you can see the flush on his face and the way his chest is rising and falling just a little bit faster than usual. He's excited, and he's trying to hide it.

“You know, you’re wearing a lot more clothes than I am," you argue, leaning forward on the table and batting your eyelashes innocently. “You should take off an item, too, for fairness' sake."

"Fine." He pulls his boots off and drops them onto the floor. "Happy now?"

"Very."

Tech picks up the deck and shuffles the cards, the corners of his lips turning up.

"This was your plan, wasn't it?" he asks.

"My plan was to finally win a game of sabacc against you. And maybe see you with less clothes on, but that's an added bonus."

Tech chuckles and slides the cards toward you, his eyes burning into yours. "You are very devious. Now, deal the cards, darling."

You quickly learn that the stakes have made the game a lot more fun. Your heart races as the tension between the two of you rises, each of you sneaking glances at the other while pretending not to. And it doesn't take long for Tech to get the upper hand, much to your dismay.

"I told you," he teases, smirking at you over his cards, "my superior memory allows me to calculate the probability—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to brag," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. You draw another card, cursing when it doesn't help you in the slightest.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc," he says. You look up at Tech to see he's staring at his own cards, but the slight smile playing on his lips tells you he's aware of your annoyance.

You can't argue with that. You're the one that proposed the idea, and you're the one that can’t seem to stop losing, so now you're the one sitting on the ship with no shoes, socks, or a shirt, leaving only your pants and undergarments. Meanwhile, Tech has only removed his gloves and belt.

He places his cards face-up on the table, revealing another pure sabacc.

"Dammit," you sigh, throwing your own cards onto the table. "Again."

"Strip," Tech commands, and there's a huskiness to his voice that wasn't there before. His eyes are dark and intense as they follow your every move, and his mouth is curved in a devilish smile.

"Are you enjoying this?" you ask, unbuttoning your pants and standing from the chair.

"Immensely," he admits, his eyes not straying from you.

Heat spreads throughout your body at the intensity of his gaze. He watches with bated breath as you push the fabric down your legs, revealing the soft skin of your thighs, and he licks his lips subconsciously. The pants pool around your feet, and you kick them under the table before returning to your seat.

"Now who's the distracted one?"

"Not distracted," Tech replies, his eyes meeting yours. "Appreciating."

His words are heavy and sultry, and you can't stop the flush that colors your cheeks.

"You can appreciate me better if you lose another round," you tell him, shuffling the cards once again.

Tech's eyes narrow. "I think I'd prefer to watch you lose a few more."

The cockiness in his voice goes straight to your core, and a heat pools in your abdomen. Tech doesn't break eye contact, his stare intense and challenging, and a thrill shoots through you at the thought of what he could be thinking.

"I guess we'll see," you tell him, smirking.

You deal the cards, and Tech immediately throws a chip down, drawing his next card. A satisfied smile curves his lips. He's not even trying to hide his glee at your frustration, and it's infuriating.

You throw a chip onto your pile, drawing a card and praying that the Force will be on your side this round. You peek at the numbers and symbols on the card, and the disappointment is instant. It's the worst possible combination—a six and one. And you're out of chips.

When Tech sets his cards down, he does so slowly, drawing out the moment and relishing in your scowl.

You sigh, dropping your useless cards, and Tech's eyes brighten at the sight.

"Well, would you look at that?" he says, his voice filled with fake innocence. "I believe that's five in a row for me."

"No shit, really?" you mutter, rolling your eyes. "I had no idea."

He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his hands folded together and his chin resting on top. "Strip."

It's the way he says it, like a command. His voice is low and gravelly, and you feel yourself getting wetter at the tone. He's so sure of himself, so cocky, and it's driving you wild.

"Do I have to?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

Tech's eyes narrow in on you. "Yes."

You stand and unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and slipping it off your arms. The cold air makes your nipples harden instantly, and his eyes widen when he sees them. He stares for a moment, taking in the view, and then his tongue darts out and licks his lips.

"I must admit, I'm finding this game more enjoyable than I originally thought," he says, his voice thick.

"Only because you're winning."

He hums in agreement and deals the next hand, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Throughout the round, Tech's eyes keep flicking back and forth between the cards and your chest, and you have to bite back a smile. He's trying so hard to concentrate, and his obvious struggle is adorable.

Tech's confidence fades as the round progresses, and by the time he sets his cards down, he isn't wearing his usual cocky smile. His mouth is pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are knitted together when he shows you his hand.

"What's wrong, Tech?" you tease, leaning back in your seat. "Disappointed that you lost?"

"Of course not," he scoffs. "I've already calculated the possibilities and I know how this will end. I have no doubt that I will win."

"Then why are you pouting?"

"I am not pouting."

"Uh-huh. Well, whatever the reason, it's time for you to remove some clothes."

Tech sighs and slips off his goggles. His warm eyes meet yours, and you notice that they're slightly glazed over.

"There," he grumbles, pushing the goggles across the table toward you. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," you reply, a wide smile on your face.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in his appearance. It’s rare that you get to see him this way, and you savor the moment. Tech has always been handsome, but the way he looks right now, with his hair mussed and a blush coloring his cheeks, is absolutely enticing.

You pick up the deck and shuffle it, and the sound of the cards sliding together is the only noise in the room. Tech's eyes are fixed on your bare chest, and his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Like what you see?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Always."

Your cheeks flush, and you deal the cards. The anticipation is killing you, and the smugness that Tech was showing before is long gone. He seems eager to get the game over with, and the impatience in his demeanor is refreshing.

His eyes flick back and forth between the cards and the pile, and his face gives nothing away. You're desperate to know what his hand is, and it's taking every ounce of willpower not to peek.

He reaches across the table and throws a chip down, his brow furrowing. It's such a subtle change in his expression, and most people would miss it. But you know Tech well enough to understand his emotions, and right now he's frustrated.

Your heartbeat quickens as you draw a card. Another three to match the one already in your hand. Not great, but it's enough to win if Tech doesn't have a better sabacc.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him, watching as his eyes move from his cards to yours and back again.

"Strategy," he mutters.

"What kind of strategy?"

"The type of strategy that will guarantee my victory,” he says. His eyes are determined and his jaw is clenched. He glances up from his cards to meet your gaze, and the fire in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

"Show me your cards," he demands.

You do as he asks, laying the two twos face-up on the table. The look he gives you is nothing short of prideful, and your heart drops.

"You've got to be kidding me," you groan.

Tech reveals his own cards—a sylop and a one. You let out an exasperated huff, and he chuckles.

"Well," he starts, placing his cards on the table and leaning back in his chair. His gaze travels over your body, and his smirk widens. "Go on."

Your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing stare, and a part of you wants to rebel and refuse to comply. But Tech looks so damn good right now, his eyes filled with mischief, and the excitement coursing through you is too much.

"You're having too much fun," you say, your voice low.

"I'd have more fun if you'd hurry up and finish this little game of ours," Tech retorts.

 You're about to give him a smart retort, but then you notice the way he shifts in his seat. It's subtle, and you doubt he even realizes it, but it's there. The tightening of his thighs, the slight twitch of his hands. He's just as turned on as you are.

And you decide to play into it.

"I'm in no rush." You stand, slowly, and let your hands travel down the expanse of your chest, cupping your breasts and running your thumbs over your nipples.

Tech's breath catches, and his eyes are dark as they watch your every move. You can see his fingers twitching, aching to touch you, but he's refraining. You run a hand down your stomach, over the hem of your panties, and he licks his lips again.

Then, without warning, you turn away from him, exposing your backside. Tech makes a sound of protest, but his objection quickly dies down when he sees you hook your thumbs into the waistband and slide your underwear down. You bend forward to push them down your legs, and you can hear the sharp intake of breath from Tech.

The moment you turn around, a mischievous glint in your eye, you're met with a new expression on Tech's face.

He looks hungry.

His pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, and you can tell it's taking all his strength not to jump across the table and take you right then and there.

"Well?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He doesn't waste a second. With one swift motion, he tosses the cards aside, his eyes never leaving yours, and stands. Then, he's on the other side of the table and grabbing your waist, pulling you towards him until your chest is pressed against his.

"I win," he announces, his hands roaming over your body.

"Then take your prize."

He pulls you into a searing kiss, his lips pressing insistently against yours. His hands travel the expanse of your skin, squeezing and caressing. One settles at the base of your neck while the other moves lower, down the curve of your back and to your ass. He grabs it, hard, and pulls your hips towards his, pressing his already-hard erection into you. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it up, his tongue delving deeper and dancing with yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and pressing your bare chest against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his arousal is evident as he rocks his hips into yours, his hand squeezing and kneading your flesh.

When the two of you break away for air, his mouth moves lower, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking the sensitive skin at your pulse point. You tilt your head back, allowing him more access, and he takes full advantage. His tongue laves over the area, teeth nipping at the skin, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

Tech's lips travel lower, across your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at the valley between your breasts. His breath fans over your skin, and his tongue darts out, licking a stripe along the underside of one breast. His fingers move up, brushing over the bud of your nipple, and you let out a whimper at the sensation.

He looks up at you, a satisfied smile playing at his lips, before bending and taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, his lips sucking the sensitive flesh, and his hand pinches the other one. The feeling sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and your hands find their way into his hair, tangling themselves in the strands.

You gasp as his teeth gently graze over the hardened peak, and your knees nearly buckle beneath you. His other hand comes up and holds your hip, steadying you, and his mouth moves to the other side.

"Tech..." you breathe, your head falling back and your eyes fluttering shut. He's barely touched you, and already, you're a panting mess.

Tech's lips travel further down, past your navel and to your thighs. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands trailing along the curves of your hips, and his lips press kisses into your skin.

"I've been wanting to taste you all day," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"You should've told me earlier," you breathe, looking down at him through hooded eyes. "We could've skipped the sabacc." 

"This was far more entertaining." He presses a kiss to your mound, and you shudder. His eyes are dark with lust, and the sight of him on his knees before you makes your core clench with anticipation.

Tech kisses your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. Your hands tighten in his hair, tugging and guiding him to where you need him most. He chuckles, and the warm breath fans over your sensitive flesh. 

His fingers dance across your skin, teasing the crease of your thighs, before one presses against your heat. A moan escapes your lips, and he presses harder, dragging his finger through your folds.

"You're already so wet," he murmurs, his eyes watching the way his finger moves. "Were you thinking about this while we were playing? About what would happen if you lost?"

"Yes," you answer truthfully, and the admission has him groaning.

He rubs circles into your clit, his touch sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your legs begin to shake, and you place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He glances up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up in a devilish smirk, and he presses a finger against your entrance. You whimper at the contact, and Tech lets out a quiet moan, the sight of you falling apart before him clearly affecting him.

"Tech, please," you beg, rocking your hips into his hand.

"Patience, darling," he coos.

He pushes the digit into you, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch, and then curls it upwards. You gasp, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter, and he begins to pump his finger in and out of you. His arm nudges your thigh, spreading your legs wider, and he leans in and presses his mouth to your clit. He licks a broad stripe up the sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling around it, and you cry out in pleasure.

His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady, while the other continues its slow movements, pushing in and out of you. You feel the tension coiling inside of you, and you know it won't take long for him to push you over the edge. His tongue is skilled and insistent, and he knows you better than anyone.

Tech's eyes are locked on yours, watching every reaction, and you can see the pure delight written on his face. He loves knowing he's the one doing this to you, making you fall apart.

"Tech... I'm..." You can't finish the sentence. The tension is building inside you, threatening to snap at any moment, and your breathing is labored. Tech adds a second finger, pumping faster and curling them against the spongy spot within you. You whimper, your grip on his shoulder tightening, and he knows you're close.

"Come for me," he says, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His palm slaps against your clit, his fingers curling deeper, and the coil inside you snaps.

"Fuck!" you gasp, your legs shaking as the orgasm crashes through you. Tech's arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you upright as your knees buckle. He continues pumping his fingers, drawing out the pleasure, his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit.

When the sensations become too much, you place a hand on his forehead and push him away, your body going slack. Tech pulls his fingers from you and places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before standing, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Mhmm," you hum, a blissful smile tugging at your lips.

Tech's hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. He takes a step forward, guiding you backwards, and the backs of your legs hit the bunk.

"Tech, please," you beg, breaking the kiss and staring into his eyes. They're black with desire, and he's already reaching down, fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He pushes them down his legs, kicking them away, and his cock springs free, already leaking. Your hand reaches for him, stroking him from base to tip, and he groans, his hips bucking into your touch.

You continue the slow movements, dragging your hand along his length and rubbing your thumb over the tip. Tech's breathing is heavy, and his head falls to your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Stop," he mutters, grabbing your wrist and halting the movement. "I want to last more than five seconds."

You chuckle and press a kiss to his jaw. "Well, let's go, then."

His eyes meet yours, and he nods. Then, in a swift motion, he spins you around and pushes you forward, bending you over the side of the bed.

He presses his body against yours, his cock grinding against your ass, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He's close, his breathing hot and heavy against your neck, and his hands are gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

You feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance, and a shiver runs down your spine. You lean forward, resting your arms on the mattress and tilting your ass higher, and Tech lets out a deep moan at the sight.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers as one hand slides along the curve of your back.

“Hurry up," you urge, wiggling your hips against him.

His hand moves down your hip, across your ass, taking a moment to squeeze the flesh, and lower to the back of your thigh. His fingers dance along the skin, sending shivers down your spine, before coming to a stop at the back of your knee. He lifts it, propping it on the edge of the bunk, spreading your legs wider, and then his cock is lining up with your entrance.

He pushes in, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch. You whimper as he fills you, and his hand comes up, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.

Tech pauses when he's fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with yours, and his hand comes around to rest on your lower stomach. The light pressure on the spot is just enough to have you squirming, and you push back into him, silently begging for more.

"Please, Tech," you whimper, and he huffs a laugh.

"Begging already?" he teases, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. "I haven't even started yet."

He pulls out of you, and the drag of his cock has you whining, already missing the sensation. He pushes back in, slow and deep, and you let out a shaky breath.

"Fuck, Tech," you pant, and he groans, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck.

His pace is slow and methodical, and you can't help but admire the restraint he's showing. Usually, he's a mess by this point, but now, his fingers are digging into your hips, holding you steady, and his breathing is slow and controlled.

You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the sheets, and glance up at him. His eyes are shut tight, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but he seems determined not to lose control.

"Harder, Tech," you urge, pushing your hips back to meet his. He grunts and snaps his hips, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. You let out a moan, and Tech's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more forceful.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, trying to find purchase as he pounds into you. It's intoxicating, the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. And the sounds coming from his lips—the soft grunts and moans—are driving you wild. He's always quiet during sex, but the sounds he's making now are anything but.

Tech's grip on your hip tightens, and his hand on your stomach presses harder, holding you in place as his hips move faster. His thrusts are sharp and deep, and he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending tingling waves of pleasure through your body.

"Yes," you cry out, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust. "More, Tech."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice strained.

"You won't."

He lets out a strangled moan and slams his hips into yours, the movement nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. He continues his relentless pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip, and your head falls forward, resting against the sheets.

Your legs are shaking, and the tension inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. You can feel the fire burning in your abdomen, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, and the way Tech is panting against your neck isn't helping.

"That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"I can feel you tightening around me." He groans, his pace never faltering. "You're going to come for me."

It's a demand, not a question. And you have no intention of disobeying him.

Tech's hand slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. The possessiveness of the gesture has you keening, and you arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He growls at the sight, his hips slamming into yours.

"Stars, you're so fucking beautiful," he pants, his hand moving to your thigh and hiking your leg higher. The new angle allows him to slide deeper inside you, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the tears beginning to prick at your eyes.

"Tech, please," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his.

"What do you need, darling?" he asks, his voice strained. "Tell me."

"Make me come, please," you whine, and his hips jerk forward.

His hand is quick, sliding between your legs and finding your clit. He presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow circles, and the tension snaps. Your body goes rigid, and your vision blurs as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, Tech's name falling from your lips, and your knees buckle, the only thing keeping you upright is his firm grip on your hips.

You bury your face in the sheets, muffling the sound of your moans, and Tech keeps pumping into you, his thrusts rocking you forward and sending your orgasm even higher.

He fucks you through the high, his pace never faltering, each thrust punching another gasp from you. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white and jaw clenched, and the pleasure is so intense that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. His cock twitches inside you, and you clench around him, desperate to push him over the edge.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He's babbling now, his voice hoarse and broken, and you can tell he's close. "You're perfect, darling. You're— fuck, I love you, I love you, I love—"

His words are cut off by a deep groan, and his hips stutter. He slams into you one final time before he spills into you, hot and thick, and the feeling is enough to make you see stars. His hands are gripping your waist, bruising the flesh, and he pulls you into his lap as he turns and collapses onto the bed.

You both sit there, panting, his chest pressed against your back. His forehead is resting against your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. The two of you are covered in a sheen of sweat, and his hands are roaming your body, tracing gentle patterns across your skin.

"That was..." Tech trails off, unable to form the words.

"Yeah," you agree, leaning back against him. You take in a shaky breath and sigh. "I love you too, by the way."

"I know." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin. "I can't believe you suggested strip sabacc."

"And I can't believe you agreed."

"Well, I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see you naked," he chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles across your abdomen.

You laugh, and the sound is bright and clear. You shift in his lap, turning around and straddling his hips. His eyes are soft as he stares up at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe we should play it more often then," you joke, leaning down and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

"We will, if this is how you plan to reward me every time I win."

"Deal."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

[ghostdiva]

ok so the new trailer for episode 3 just dropped. big hype. here are some theory's, notes, and observations.

also I took a lot of screenshots...

anyway here we go.

so the adventure is set to be "The Mystery of Mildenhall Manor". Now, I do think that Caine is gonna be the quest giver this time, sending the gang to find something inside the spooky, probably haunted manor.

small guess is that they gotta find Matilda, one of the ghosts haunting the manor, and trap her in a vacuum. idk why, it's literally just a hunch.

Jax also takes a moment to harass Pomni with a vacuum, which just makes me think of Luigi's Mansion.

anyway, the gang (minus Zooble) are gonna go in the manor and try to find whatever they're looking for, and either by agreement or random set of events, the gang is gonna split up, Pomni and Kinger being paired up. I don't really know if Ragatha, Gangle, and Jax stick together or not, as they're not really shown much in the trailer.

I am inclined to believe it is a set of events that separates the gang tho.

it's the one of the reasons I can think of that'd make Pomni climb on the door like that.

I mean... outside of the very spooky decorum.....

which Pomni has a pretty reasonable reaction to

btw, I fucking love Pomni's cartoon physics with the squash and stretch rubber-hose animation. it's so expressive and fun to watch.

anyway, it seems Caine is determined to have Zooble go on adventures. so he literally sits them down and tries to therapize them.

though with Caine being an AI with very little knowledge of how the human mind works, this goes predictably horribly.

I imagine Zooble tries on some level to convey to Caine the ludicrousness of their situation. stuck in a digital world getting repeatedly traumatized by meaningless adventures that seem to do more harm than good. though I get the feeling Caine would miss the point, leading Zooble to correct him, and/or get upset at him for not understanding. watching this verbal fight happen between these 2 will probably lead to us, the viewer, understanding more about Zooble.

anyway, back to the manor with this cute little guy.

look at him, he's so cute and squishable. unfortunately this guy is the only cute and squishable NPC here because Pomni and Kinger seems to really be going through it.

they're mostly poking around, opening drawers and stuff. maybe they're looking for a key to get back with the others or something? who knows.

they both probably stumble around in the dark for a bit, both figuratively and literally.

they might end up stumbling into an antagonist NPC, which is the only way I can explain some of these screenshots.

it looks to me like Kinger is facing something. I mean, He's missing an eye in the first one, smacking something with a gun in the second, and looking really worried in the third. Plus the fist 2 have similar lighting so I'm inclined to believe those 2 pics come from clips in close time frames to each other.

there's also another image that has similar lighting...

now... this may sound weird, but I think that either Pomni got Possessed somehow, or something tried to take her shape. Possession seems more feasible since we know at least 2 of the NPC's in this adventure are ghosts, and at least in media ghosts are known to possess people. seeing as digital circus seems to love pulling from video game mechanics, this wouldn't surprise me at all.

this would also kind of explain why in the "POMNI WAKE UP!! IT'S TIME TO GO ON AN ADVENTURE" video, in the "Kinger with a shotgun" clip, he seems to be hitting Pomni with the gun. it makes a lot more sense if Pomni ends up getting possessed somehow, forcing Kinger to hit her in order to defend himself from the ghost.

this also could tie back to the worried look on Kingers face in the screenshot before Possessed Pomni. Cause he'd know what he has to do, even though he doesn't want to hurt Pomni.

Hell, I'm pretty sure Kinger even openly protects Pomni in this episode.

because of the shot in the trailer taken from this hole's perspective

not only is Pomni hiding behind Kinger, but he has one of his hands out in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever is in that hole.

also in regards to guns, Kinger isn't the only one who gets to have a gun.

Pomni gets to wield a shotgun too, and it's likely to help both herself and Kinger fight off whatever was after them in the hole.

Ghost possession and gun-slinging aside, I do think that Pomni and Kinger have a little heart to heart in this episode.

boy doesn't that screenshot look familiar. reminds me of episode 2 with the blue lighting and concerned expression on Pomni's face. That scene in the test room where Pomni comforts Gumigoo. this time tho, she's comforting Kinger. it almost makes me wonder if this will be a reoccurring theme, with all the other characters eventually having a heart to heart with Pomni, and Pomni comforting them.

it'd really make her live up to her quote in episode 2 "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anyone to feel like that".

the only thing I do still have questions about, is wtf is Kinger looking at here?

I mean, it looks like the eyes of a ghost, if they could make their eyes glow like that.

ya know what, maybe he's looking at a mound of pillows or something.

yeah, like that.

[shiroxichigo]

Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).

I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.

Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.

Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.

It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.

We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.

Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.

Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.

So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.

So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.

Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?

Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.

[dunmeshistash]

Dear Meshi Master, is Marcille despite being much older, wiser, more experienced, more serious about studies and career (I mean this very kindly) less mature than the Toudens? In the sense that she needs hugs, praise and reassurance which she was not getting w/ Falin gone (Laios tries but he's not comfortable giving hugs). I think about this when she's crying her eyes out and/or hugging someone like a baby koala.

I think maturity level is something hard to quantify, people "mature" differently depending on their life experiences and especially in Marcille's case as a half-elf it's pretty inconsistent

There's also a difference between being someone smart/wise/responsible and having emotional maturity (or emotional intelligence idk). I'm not that knowledgeable in the subject and Marcille still has lots of growing to do in the emotional side but I don't think she's really that immature.

Needing hugs praise and reassurance and I'll even add the fact she keeps toys and is invested in fictional characters, I don't think those make her immature, tbh some people like Shiro who bottle up things instead of letting it out like Marcille could be considered more immature. Look at how Izu reacts to Marcille letting her emotions show.

Izu is still very young so she doesn't have the "emotional maturity" to deal with someone who wears their emotions so genuinely like Marcille (She's trying tho, very cute). In this situation I think Izu is the more immature even tho Marcille is crying out like a baby, cause Marcille is allowing herself to feel what she's feeling while Izu isn't equipped to deal with those feelings properly.

I think there's some aspect she's still working thru tho (which I don't think there's an specific age where you're supposed to be done working thru) and the others aspects to me seem more like parts of who she is, she cries and hugs and wants words of affirmations but it's not like that side of her impacts how she deals with important things. Marcille can be serious and calm when the situation asks for it, for example when Senshi is taken by the Griffin Marcille manages to calm down enough to think of something while Laios is in full panic, he relies on her when he can't deal with things himself.

And after that she fully takes lead of the situation. She's whiny and a crybaby but she's still "mature" (whatever that means) if you ask me. There's several other examples but it's easy to tell if you compare with how the younger characters like Izutsumi and Pattadol act.

Hopefully this makes some sense, I'll admit I don't really understand what is being "mature" or not, it's something that feels pretty arbitrary to me.

Edit: just to add, I do think Marcille has a childish side to her and that it is part of her character, her childhood had lots of inconsistency and trauma associated and she even gets the childish ear warmers in her dungeon lord outfit. That's the part I mean when I say she still has things to work thru due to past trauma and she's also just young in general.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I'm just curious since I absolutely adore all your trans Ed fics, what made you read Ed as being trans? Is it more of a personal headcanon since we tend to see ourselves in fictional characters, or did you notice some tiny detail on the show that made you think so?

Oh my friend, I'm so glad you ask.

The cool thing about reading Ed as trans, I think, is that you do not even have to squint to do it. Literally you need to change exactly nothing, and this read suddenly adds a lot of nuance and additional juicy layers to his story and his journey with masculinity.

Ed's whole deal with masculinity, precisely exactly all of it, makes him feel so much like a trans guy who never outgrew the "I need to be hypermasculine so I pass" phase, fitting that read so precisely that given there are trans writers on the OFMD team I would be absolutely SHOCKED if at least some of it wasn't intentional. Every single trans guy I know has been through a version of this, where you come out and you know you're a man but you need everyone else to know, too, and so you lean very hard into masculinity to make damn sure you pass. And not just pass, but pass perfectly. Ed is forcing himself into such a heavy ideal of masculinity that it feels artificial; he needs to make sure everyone sees him as this perfect ideal of a masculine man that he cannot possibly live up to because no one could.

Certainly, parts of Ed's hyper-masculine presentation seem to be things that genuinely make him happy and bring him joy. That's important. Ed's happy to be a man, the problem is that he's trying to force himself into such a narrow idea of masculinity that it's stifling him. It's preventing him from enjoying more ""feminine"" things that he genuinely loves, because he's terrified of being seen as less of a man for it, and people like Izzy reinforce the idea that if Ed fucks up in his performance of masculinity, he's going to be in danger because of that. It's very real, and the added juiciness from reading Ed as trans adds so much to the great story that's already there, I think. There's this additional element of Ed knowing he's a man but needing to make sure everyone else could never doubt it, there's an additional perceived danger to slipping up, there's a sort of jealous admiration for guys like Stede who seem, at least on the surface, so much more comfortable with a different type of masculinity that Ed wishes he could have more of.

And on top of that, there's just a lot of other little additional things, like:

Ed making his beard his whole brand, it just screams beard dysphoria and "no one could ever claim I'm not a man because the beard is my whole THING."

Something about his relationship with his name, and how hard he has to try to get people like Izzy to call him by his name in front of others

The way Ed is dehumanized when he dares to step outside a very safe, masculine gender presentation - it's why Izzy saying "this thing you've become" when Ed is wearing a robe and painted nails hits so hard for me, I think

Okay. okay. listen. You know the scene where Ed makes CJ whip him in the balls. Listen. Ed baby. It just SCREAMS "people here don't know I'm trans and I don't know how much getting hit in the balls should ACTUALLY hurt so I'm gonna lay it on really really thick just to be safe"

There's a lot to be said about Ed and his clothing in a lot of directions, but I'm gonna leave it at how he's really figured out a safe set of clothing that works for him and consistently allows him to be read as this super masculine guy, and he's scared to step away from that. Also, I really like imagining the full-fingered gloves at the end of s1 as a way to cover up the nail polish on his fingernails until it wears off.

I think it's very sweet that Ed tends to be very private when talking about his personal and sex life with others, but a very, very easy explanation for how that got started is he just doesn't want to go around sharing personal details about his body with people!

Yeah. A trans read of Ed is so shockingly easy, fits so well, and adds so much to his journey, frankly I'm amazed it's not more common.

[jknox11]

jeremy knox gets grumpy when he's sick.

the first time jean sees it he is kind of amused. instead of getting up early as he usually does, jeremy doesn't get out of bed until cat and laila storm the bedroom he shares with jean saying breakfast has been done for over an hour.

jean stands by the door, an eyebrow raising as he sees jeremy put the covers over his head to avoid dealing with his friends. something jean has never seen him do before, something that is so not like jeremy.

"come on, jeremy. it's saturday. we already didn't do anything last night, you're not going to waste today."

cat insists while trying to pull the covers off jeremy who with a weak sigh ends up giving up and just letting her do it. the moment both laila and cat see his face they realize what's happening.

"what the hell, jeremy! what have i told you about hiding in the room while dying sick instead of literally asking for help?"

"don't be dramatic. i'm just tired." jeremy unconvincingly tries to calm his friend who already had her hand on his forehead.

"bullshit. you literally have a fever right now. sit up, laila is gonna bring something for you to eat before taking some medicine."

"not hungry. just want to sleep." jeremy whined once again trying to put the covers over his head.

"don't make me get jean to get you out of this bed."

"leave me out of this." jean warned still standing by the door and the moment jeremy heard his voice he felt himself more alert.

the last person jeremy wanted to see him weak, pale and sick was jean. he closed his eyes, defeated. and started sitting up knowing cat wouldn't leave that room until he did exactly as he was told. he awkwardly ran his fingers through his messy hair knowing it'd be useless.

"satisfied?" jeremy crossed his arm grumpily like a child and jean strongly held back the sudden urge he had to laugh- something he seemed to be wanting to do more ever since moving out with cat and laila- at the scene.

laila then re-entered the room carrying a plate of toast with eggs and a cup of the orange juice they had in the fridge especially for occasions like these.

"lighten up, princess. i know you love being babied by us."

laila handed him the plate and put the juice on the bedside table. jeremy who still had his arms crossed against his chest pouted a little.

"not like this! i hate being sick!"

and he did. jeremy didn't get sick as often but when he did, oh boy. it was hell. it'd usually take him at least three days to fully recover everytime and he hated how useless he felt between that time which resulted in a very grumpy, very whiny captain sunshine.

"poor thing. i know it sucks, but you'll feel a little better once you eat and take the meds." laila caressed his hair getting a content little sigh from him this time.

"thank you, guys." he then remembered jean standing by the door and immediately felt his cheeks burn from embarrassment.

"good morning, jean!" jeremy offered him a little smile.

"eat your eggs."

"he learns fast." cat joked and jeremy groaned.

"great. just what i need, three nurses wannabe"

"we can just let jean do the work if that's what you want."

laila winked at him and jeremy almost choked on the eggs he had just put in his mouth.

"alright, alright. we'll let you eat your food and then check on you again later. don't forget to take the meds for the fever after eating."

the girls left the room, but jean stayed where he was.

"jean? are you really gonna stand there and watch me eat?" jeremy joked a bit embarrassed still.

"i do not think you should be alone while sick."

"i'm okay, jean. really."

jean seemed to ponder for a few seconds before leaving. jeremy barely had time to finish chewing a piece of toast before jean was back already.

"to make you company."

jeremy thought his cheeks were gonna crack with the way his smile was so big on his face. in front of him there was nothing less than a six foot french man holding a cardboard dog cutout to put by his bedside.

"jean! you're amazing. thank you!" jeremy said cheerfully, his smile still bright and big on his face. "you... you can stay too if you'd like. i mean-" jeremy's face heated as he struggled with his own words.

"after im done preparing lunch with cat and laila."

jeremy smiled again.

"i will be here. we will." jeremy brought barkbark closer to him and jean rolled his eyes, but the small smile wanting to appear on his face before he left the room didn't go unnoticed by jeremy.

[brotherwtf]

I mentioned this in my timeline of my age gap au but John fights in the Gulf war, leaving Gale behind for about a year

so have a cute little drabble of John surprising Gale by being back in the states when he comes back.

----

Gale hadn't heard anything from John in the past week and he was honestly worried the worst had happened.

John's letters came often, surprisingly, but Gale often splurged to get a long distance call with him once a month. This was supposed to be when he was going to have that phone call.

But John didn't answer, he had a lovely conversation with one of John's friends, told Gale he was doing fine, but he was a little busy and couldn't talk at the moment. Which only made Gale more worried. Why wouldn't John have time? Was he hurt? Even worse, was he killed and his friend just didn't know it? Gale was practically sick with anxiety.

When Gale left work, he wasn't thinking about much more than what dinner would be, or if he should call his mother, but when he walked into the parking lot to his car his heart stopped.

There stood John in his dress greens, crusher cap tucked under his arm as he leaned casually against the pickup truck, smiling that stupid smile of his.

"Hey Gale, you miss me?" John says and Gale can't breathe.

He doesn't know if he floats or stumbles towards John, but one moment he's not in John's arms and the next moment he is.

It feels like coming home, being back in John's arms. He smelled like his cologne, warm and spicy, and he felt as strong as ever. Gale still didn't feel like he could breathe.

"Like a stone in my shoe," Gale exhales and he feels tears well up in his eyes when he feels John's laugh bubble up in his stomach beneath him.

Gale pulls away ever so slightly so he can look up at John, inspecting his face for any scars or lacerations. There's an angry scar across his cheek, and Gale reaches out to graze his fingers over it. John shrugs his shoulders and smiles.

"Nothing too bad, I'm still kicking," John says, clutching Gales fingers in his hands and kissing them gently.

Gale tucks his face back into John's shoulder, breathing him in and trying to stop the tears from flowing out again.

"You missed our call. I thought the worst," Gale chokes, and John sighs.

"I know, I'm sorry doll. Wanted to surprise you so I had Blakely filibuster for me. I was halfway back to the states when you called," John says and Gale can't help but laugh at how absurd the thought was.

He pulls back again and smiles, albeit a little wetly, and sighs deeply when John kisses him. He tastes like home, something so familiar and comforting that the tears finally cascade down Gale's face, choking even more when John's hands cup his face and bring him even closer.

When Gale pulls away, he can see John's eyes have gotten glassy, and he presses their foreheads together.

"Don't ever leave me again, I need you John," Gale mutters, and it feels far too familiar.

John shakes his head, stroking a thumb across Gale's cheek in comfort.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours as long as I'm still kicking."

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey there! Hope you’re having a wonderful day!

Could I request a classic Grumpy and Sunshine duo? lol

Just picture Donna being her usual grumpy and mean self while reader tries to lighten her mood.

Maybe Donna acts like she doesn’t appreciate the reader being clingy, but deep down, she secretly loves it.

But One day, reader decides to playfully distance themselves to tease Donna, only to realize it makes Donna really upset. Even though Donna is reluctant to admit it, she ends up begging the reader to stop ignoring her.

Thanks a bunch!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

You were the Sun, she was the Moon

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Word count: 8,787

Summary: She's like darkness, you're like light...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Good morning…” you hummed as you turned on the light, the only thing you could do to enlighten that dark bedroom. “Donna, Donna…”

A grumpy growl came from the brunette as she tried to fight your always effusive morning kisses.

“No…” she sighed, turning around in a childish way, moving away from you.

You rolled your eyes but you weren't going to give up so easily. A new day for you was always a reason for joy and… Well, everything for you was a reason to be happy, to adorn your face with an eternal smile.

“No? Come on honey, it's time to get up,” you hummed again, pushing the lady with more effusivity, making her growls more intense. “It's a new day.”

“I see,” Donna hissed, slowly getting up, unable to resist your insistence. “(Y/N)…”

“Mm, you look so pretty when you have that grumpy face,” you joked, stealing a kiss on her lips that caught her by surprise.

The lady looked at you with a frown while you, teasingly pinching her cheek, pulled back the sheets.

“Hey, wait…” she whispered, trying to cover herself again, with a sleepy voice. “Are you in a hurry?”

“Yes, a new day is waiting for us, and we have to take advantage of it,” you said with that same smile, stretching in an exaggerated way.

Lady Beneviento shook her head, with the seriousness not wanting to leave her face. With a tired sigh, she stretched her hand towards the small clock on the bedside table, squinting her sleepy eye.

“Gods, (Y/N), it's seven in the morning,” she said with a tired, defeated tone. “Why?”

“Mm, well, the earlier we get up, the earlier we have breakfast, the earlier you get to work on your dolls and the earlier you finish. That way we can spend more time together, isn't that great?” you said, searching through the closet for the appropriate clothes for that day and throwing the lady's black dress on the bed.

“Great… It's not exactly the word I was thinking of, tesoro…” she whispered, shaking her head and getting up from the bed listlessly.

“Come on, don't be grumpy,” you said in a petulant tone, approaching the lady and hanging on her neck while tilting your head. “You're quite a Lord…” you joked near her lips, kissing them slowly while she sighed again, reluctantly returning the kiss.

“I'm not grumpy,” she said with a tone and expression that obviously agreed with you, as always.

With an amused laugh you winked at her, moving away, something you certainly didn't want to do.

“Hey, you look gorgeous with your hair down, have I ever told you that?” you commented with flushed cheeks, while you slightly adjusted the sheets.

The woman rolled her eye, sighing unpleasantly.

“I think about forty times…” she murmured, finally sketching a brief smile, helping you to place the pillows. “Do we really need to get up?”

“I'm sure Angie is already up,” you said, smoothing the bed, removing even the smallest wrinkle.

“Angie doesn't sleep,” Donna said, looking at you with her always inquisitive and almost distrustful face.

You shrugged, shaking your hands. You never lost your smile.

“Can you imagine what life would be like if we didn't sleep?” you asked, looking at the ceiling so the inventive part of your head would start working. “We could do more things during the day.”

“How funny…” the brunette sighed, looking away from you and grabbing her dress.

“Isn't it?” you said, nodding enthusiastically.

The answer was another sigh accompanied by a gesture of denial. The lady turned around, walking towards the door.

“I'm going to take a shower,” she murmured, an opportunity that you took to grab your clothes and run to her side.

“I'm going with you,” you said with a radiant smile, getting the corners of her mouth to bend slightly upwards with your tender words and your insistence, a sweet smile was gracing her face.

“Va bene…”

Given the place where you lived, that sinister village, surely what was expected of a young girl like you was that bitterness was always present on your face.

Of course, it wasn’t like that.

Unlike most villagers, you had been born with the gift of optimism, of joy. You were always smiling, always seeing the good side of things. You were incapable of getting angry, of feeling sorrow, rage, regret... Your life was a gift and you knew it.

It was as if you had stolen all the happiness from the place, as if the happiness of all its inhabitants had passed to you by a spell or a whim of the Black Gods.

That different, irreverent and cheerful attitude never gave you the opportunity to improve your life. You were never special for being that way.

One day, in the middle of one of your walks, you stumbled across the waterfall mansion, the Beneviento House.

You were happy, cheerful and optimistic, but you weren't stupid. You knew who lived there, what happened to the poor wretches who dared to walk there. Fortunately, your natural gift helped you not to end your life among hallucinations and screams of pain.

The owner of that mansion, the Lord, servant of Mother Miranda, the lady in black, Donna Beneviento, was a dangerous, sick, disturbed woman...

Nothing you had heard about her was good but, luckily, that day she didn't seem to be in a bad mood. Maybe she was or maybe it was due your bright smile and your funny excuses about how you got there, how your hand slipped on the elevator button.

She saw something in you, something that caught her attention. Maybe it was your smile, your joy for life, you weren't sure, but you knew that your hand would slip on that button more times, and that you wanted to do it.

Love was something almost impossible in a place like that, with a woman like her. But, as your philosophy said: impossible is nothing.

Of course, you also decided to give yourself a chance, to give yourself the chance to discover what it was like to really love, to love her. Kisses, caresses, words... Everything led, over time, to your hand to no longer rest on the elevator button and starting to touch her body every night.

Donna was... Strange. She definitely had problems that you tried to mitigate with some success. She was a... Well, dark, gloomy woman.

Her terrible childhood, her years of loneliness had overshadowed the character of a fairly healthy person when it came to socialization.

Always serious, whispering, with a cold look, with a hoarse but soft voice at the same time, that was Donna Beneviento. Not even Angie's different attitude was an excuse for the lady to put a smile on her beautiful face from time to time.

You two just did honor to the symbol of her family: the moon, and the sun.

Maybe you exaggerated. Yes, you saw her smile, yes, she kissed you, she told you that she loved you, that she couldn't live without you, she cried when she thought she was losing you.

She was emotional and affectionate but... She didn't show it very often, as if something inside her stopped that impulse to feel comfortable with another person, as if something in her mind forced her to appear serious so you wouldn't dare to break her heart.

Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. It could simply be the contrast between your attitude and hers. Maybe Donna wasn't the grumpy and unspoken woman. Maybe the odd one of that curious couple was you.

If so, you would be the odd one, and she would be just a normal person. You didn't want to fool yourself. You knew that wasn't the case at all.

Still, hanging on her neck, sitting on her lap while she made dolls, bathing her skin in kisses, her ears in sweet words... Well, that was your way of being and you didn't think it would change, no matter how much Donna complained about "how clingy you were."

She loved you. She loved you more than life itself. It was just circumstances, or her natural way of being that forced her to behave as if those kisses didn't matter to her, to pretend to look upset when you didn't leave her alone.

You didn't have to think about it too much, since, very often, her protests were accompanied by a tender smile, one that you didn't know if she wanted to hide. Of course, she didn't manage it.

There were times, like the shower that morning, when her mood allowed her certain liberties, like hugging you affectionately under the hot water. Without speaking, but saying it all with her caresses, with her kisses on your hair.

“Mm,” you murmured, moving in place, with a natural smile on your face due to her silent displays of affection, to that tacit promise of always being with you, of you always being with her. “Donna…”

She laughed briefly, and, as if the mere fact of hearing you speak was a kind of spark that reactivated her normal behavior, she moved away from you, leaving the shower after a quick kiss on your shoulder.

“Hey… Come back here,” you protested, pretending to pout, gesturing with your hand. She looked at you and shook her head, covering herself with a towel.

“Weren't you in such a hurry?” she joked with her eyebrow raised, in a petulant tone.

You snorted amused, turning off the shower tap and doing the same, pretending to shiver.

-Yes, well… - you whispered, a little confused by her intelligent response, by that grumpy tone again. She certainly didn't like getting up early. -What would you like for breakfast, honey?

“Mm? Coffee,” she said dryly, combing her hair while looking at herself in the mirror, sighing sadly as she did every time she saw her reflection, the defect in her face that tormented her so much.

You, realizing that detail, approached slowly, hugging her from behind with a tender smile. She moved her hand towards yours, but didn't look away from her reflection, shaking her head.

“You're beautiful, Donna,” you whispered in a sweet voice, looking at your own refection. “Look, I suit you,” you joked.

Her face relaxed and that smile you adored accompanied yours in the mirror. Well, at least that time it had been simple.

“Could you leave me alone for a moment?” the lady asked in a kind but somewhat broken tone. Surely if you saw the tear forming in her eye, you would stay until Donna calmed down, but that overwhelmed her, even if you managed to cheer her up.

“Okay,” you said with a tired sigh, kissing her back and slowly moving away. “I'm going to make you a breakfast that will blow your mind, my love.”

She simply nodded, without looking at you, lowering her face to the sink, breathing deeply to try to calm herself down. As much as it hurt you to see her like that, you couldn't do anything. The problems in her mind weren't fixed with smiles, unfortunately.

Preparing breakfast, setting the table, making sure everything was perfect... That was a routine you loved. You always made great efforts to make everything shine in the same way as your smile, so those dry words from the lady in black would be sweetened with the love you always showed.

A silent breakfast, a few unimportant phrases about the weather, about Angie, about your friends… It was always you who spoke. Donna always just listened to you, or pretended to. She wasn't very good at pretending tough.

Your joy always remained strong, your desire to live, to be happy, was not intimidated by the grumpy behavior of the lady, by her always cold and stoic expression.

No, nothing, nor anyone could ever change you but… Could she change? Sometimes you wished it with all your soul, sometimes you dreamed of the lady in black telling you that she really loved how you were, that she love an attitude so different from hers.

But that day never came, that full smile never reached your gaze. Sometimes you seemed nothing but a nuisance to her, but it didn't make sense for that to be the case. Why would someone like her, a powerful Lord, put up with someone she couldn't stand? Why live with a nuisance?

There were two possible answers: It could be loneliness, it could be that fear of the woman in black of not being left alone again, settling for the first stupid woman who didn't run away when she saw her face without the veil.

Maybe she just wanted company, even if she couldn't stand you.

Another option, the one you told yourself was the right one, would be that Donna truly loved you, that she cared for you, that your senseless encouragement lifted her spirit, that your joy made her see things in color, and not with a black and white filter.

Once again, it was impossible to know, to read the doll maker's mind and finally find that longed-for answer so your mind, with the passage of time, wouldn't start making painful assumptions.

“I got you!” you said triumphantly, finding the Angie doll under a sofa.

The afternoons could be many ways, but normally, because your power of persuasion to take a walk with Donna was at its weakest point, they were fun times with the living doll.

Okay, maybe not even Angie could match your level of cheerfulness and optimism, but at least she wasn't the grumpy mess her owner was. Angie was irreverent, shameless, not afraid to speak her mind at any given moment. You wondered if she was real part of Donna’s mind, or a lost virtue that the lady could never get back.

“You're fast, silly,” Angie whispered, crawling comically under the couch. “I think this is a tie.”

“Tie?” you asked, hands on hips. “As far as I know I've found you seven times this week.”

“Oh, yeah, but... Do you remember when you got here?” the doll joked, pointing at you. “I went two months without losing.”

“That was cheating, I didn't know the house that well,” you said, pushing the puppet playfully, making her grunt in a way suspiciously similar to her owner, something that made you look at the clock and sigh. “Oh, it's tea time.”

“What tea?” Angie asked, tilting her head.

“Donna's tea,” you said, with an anxious smile, walking towards the elevator.

“Hey, leave Donna alone! You know she doesn't like you disturbing her when she's making my friends,” the doll said, following you down the hall.

You nodded amused, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, but she always finishes the tea I make for her,” you said in your defense, moving the elevator bars.

“I guess that way she can stop hearing your voice…” the doll mocked, making you frown, but, when you wanted to protest, the elevator was already going down to the basement.

Ignoring the doll's potentially-hurtful words, you prepared the tea while humming, wanting, as always, to give the brunette an awkward cuddle session. You wondered how she would react that day…

“Donna,” you sang, entering the workshop without knocking on the door, startling the lady, who groaned like every time you woke her up at early hours.

“Tesoro, I've told you a thousand times that you must…” she whispered in a hoarse voice, with labored breathing.

“Yes… I must knock on the door, I know,” you said, dragging out the words and hugging your lady from behind, leaving the tea on the table and leaning on her shoulder. “Mm, I love when you're focused…”

“(Y/N), is there any moment of my life that you don't like?” she asked with a serious face, not looking at you, working on a sinister porcelain doll.

“Let me think… No,” you said amused, kissing her cheek repeatedly, passing by her nose, briefly by her mouth…

At first the lady didn't protest against that rain of kisses but, after a moment in which it seemed that you didn't want to stop, she coughed, moving her face away from your lips.

“Ugh, lasciami…” she whispered annoyed, gesturing with her hand as if she were pushing away an insect that was flying around her.

You laughed, shaking your head and sighing, planting a kiss on her cheek, well, one that contained several more, making the sound in an exaggerated way, preventing her from running away from you by holding her by the shoulders.

“Mmmm, gorgeous…” you said, with a last loud kiss, an unpleasantly cheesy one.

Donna growled, passing a hand over her wet cheek and lips and shaking her head.

“Why are you that clingy?” she protested, her gaze fixed on the porcelain, with an annoyed expression.

You, ignoring her complaints as always, shrugged, sighing and settling yourself on her lap, so she groaned again, leaving the brush in a glass, knowing that, otherwise, her work would be ruined because of you.

“I made you some tea,” you said amused, moving one of your legs, swinging it as you made yourself comfortable in that position grabbing the lady by her shoulders to support yourself.

“I see that,” she whispered, taking the cup. “I didn't ask you for it.”

“No, but you never do it,” you said amused, turning to play with her black hair, making her protest again. “After all, you drink it, so I guess you want it.”

Donna shook her head, letting out the air slowly, surrendering to your excessive affection.

“Okay, whatever,” she said nervously, with a darker look.

“Have you seen how perfectly I've made that slice of lemon?” you said amused, pointing to the inside of the cup. Donna looked at the same place with a frown and then at you.

“What's wrong with the lemon?” she asked impatiently, moving due to the apparent discomfort of your body on her lap. “Get down…”

“No,” you said, ignoring that abrupt request. “I mean it's a perfect circumference, don't you think?” you joked, with an expectant look.

“(Y/N), don't you have anything better to do than distract me?” Donna asked, fed up with your comments, gently pushing you off her lap.

You snorted and your smile relaxed for the first time in months

“I, I really don't…” you sighed with a slightly different tone, which led the lady in black, now with the brush in her hand again, to look at you slowly.

“Weren't you playing with Angie?” she said, dipping the brush in paint and picking up the porcelain head.

For a moment you thought that your boredom would be a concern for her, but it wasn't. Maybe that's why you felt less like smiling.

“Yes, but…” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck.

“Why don't you go for a walk with your friends?” she suggested, without looking at you again, giving more importance to that doll than to you.

“Mm, yes, perhaps, perhaps I will,” you said, her smile returning little by little. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Donna.”

With a soft kiss on her lips, one she accepted along with a brief caress, you turned around, walking towards the workshop door.

“(Y/N),” the lady interrupted, making you turn around slowly. She looked at you and sighed, with a tender and tired smile. “Thank you for the tea.”

“You're welcome, my love,” you said with an affectionate tone, smiling back at her as you closed the doors.

Well, maybe some time with your village friends would clear your mind about those thoughts that were beginning to harass you, about those questions your subconscious was asking you, ones you didn't want to answer.

“Are you sick or something?” your best friend asked as you sat by the lake. You looked at her with a frown.

“Why do you say so?” you wanted to know, swinging your legs over a rock.

“You're not smiling,” she joked, giving you nudge. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” you said nodding, looking into the distance. Maybe she could help you with those strange thoughts… “Well…”

The girl looked at you, blinking in confusion.

“What's wrong, (Y/N)?” she asked kindly, with a slightly shaky voice. “Lady Beneviento isn't treating you well? Has she hurt you?” she whispered, looking around.

You groaned at that insinuation, at having everyone worried about your well-being when it wasn't necessary.

“What? Of course she hasn’t. Donna would never hurt me, Olivia,” you said with a slightly brusque tone.

“Oh, okay, okay, I'm just asking,” your friend excused herself, making a reassuring gesture with her hands. “But something's worrying you…”

“Yes, well, it's just that…” you said, with a slightly shy tone, not knowing if you should really tell her your worries or if they were worries at all. “We are, we are so different…”

“Of course you are, she's a Lord,” Olivia said, with an amused laugh. “What a novelty.”

“No, I don't mean that, it's just…” you said, nervous, also looking everywhere. “Donna is always… She's always complaining about everything, it seems that my presence is annoying  to her.”

“I don't think it annoys her, (Y/N), I, I'm afraid that if it did, you wouldn't… You wouldn't be here,” the girl said, with a slightly scared tone.

“Okay, you're not helping me,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“You'll have to be a bit more specific, I don't know that woman and the little I know about her... It's not very... Flattering, let's say.”

“You're wrong, Donna is such a sweetheart, I'm sick of saying it,” you said in a serious, sincere tone. “Her problem is that... She, she doesn't seem to really like me. She always says that I'm annoying her, that I'm very clingy...”

“Oh...” your friend sighed, with a confused look.

“And I don't know if she really thinks that way or... If on the contrary, maybe, maybe she's just like that, you know? I don't know. I'm starting to think that she just loves me so she won't be alone.”

“Mm,” Olivia murmured thoughtfully. “I guess the best you can do is to clear up your doubts.”

“Oh, what a brilliant deduction,” you said with irony, spreading your arms in a comical way. “Yeah, thanks, but I don't know how.”

“Well… Maybe if you stop being so… You, you can check it out,” she murmured, making you turn your head quickly.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what they say: you don't realize what you have, until it's gone,” the young woman commented, looking at the sky. You nodded for her to continue. “Try leaving your affectionate and clingy side behind for a while, so you can see how she reacts.”

“Interesting,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes. “You mean to ignore Donna?”

“Yes, well��� I'm sure that if she really loves you, she'll end up asking you to go back to the way you were, and if not… Well… If not…”

“No, don't say it, Donna loves me, I'm sure,” you said nervously, thinking about the risk of that test, the risk of it not going well.

“Then she'll have to prove it to you,” your friend said, with a haughty tone.

At least that conversation was useful to you.

At first that idea seemed silly, it went against your way of being, against the love you felt for the lady in black. Ignoring her could be dangerous, but it was true that you had never tried it either. You weren't capable, you just weren't capable.

As you walked back to the mansion, the idea was spinning around in your head, sounding better and better, even considering it funny. You trusted in the love that Donna said she felt for you but… The truth is, you were very anxious to check her reaction.

“Mm, Donna…” you purred in her ear as she read in bed, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck…

She frowned, moving to get you to move away.

“I'm reading, tesoro, leave me alone,” she whispered in a voice that wasn't harsh, but somewhat stern.

“Well, you'll read tomorrow,” you whispered, insisting on your desire for nightly cuddles. Donna shook her head, letting you kiss her on the lips before placing a hand on your chest to stop you.

“(Y/N), I'm tired,” she growled, looking at you briefly and returning to her book.

You sighed, finally pulling away and shaking your head. Normally you would insist a little more, just enough to bring down the brunette's defenses and enjoy a night of passion but… The words, the advice of your friend echoed in your mind. It would be a good time to put your plan into action.

“Okay, good night,” you said quickly, covering yourself with the sheets, turning your back to her.

You could notice how the brunette put down her book. She was probably looking at you with a frown. You didn't know, but you hoped she was.

“Are you okay?” Donna asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You, with your eyes closed and a mischievous smile, nodded.

“Yes, I'm fine,” you said with your best dry and cold voice. “I just realized that I'm sleepy.”

“Oh, um, well, in that case…” she said, apparently confused, leaving the book on the bedside table and turning off the light. “We'd better sleep.”

“Yes,” you answered with the same coldness.

You noticed how the lady moved suddenly, surely alerted by that tone, but she didn't say anything, she just sighed, lying down next to you.

“Buonanotte”

Well, apparently your behavior unsettled the doll maker a little, but that strangeness and confusion weren't enough, besides, you didn't know if it was for better or worse, but... The truth is that it had been terribly funny for you.

The next day started like any other, or almost.

When you caressed the hand that grabbed your body from behind, you had to make an effort not to turn around and devour the lady with kisses like every morning, so as not to provoke those grunts of protest that you found adorable.

Biting your lip out of anger at not being able to act like always, you took her soft hand, slowly moving it away from your belly as you subtly got out of bed. Donna didn't wake up, so your plan could continue its course.

You showered, dressed, and walked to the kitchen. There was no sign of the brunette, she hadn't woken up.

Time passed and you whistled quietly in the kitchen as you ground the coffee beans. Yes, ignoring her was one thing, but neglecting her was something quite different, and after all, you loved making her breakfast, the only meal she allowed you to make.

“(Y/N)…” a hoarse voice interrupted your cheerful whistles. A comical figure, still dressed in her nightgown appeared at the door, Donna.

The lady, still sleepy, rubbed her eye, looking at you in confusion. You smiled wickedly to yourself as she yawned loudly, smiling tenderly, as usual.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you said in a soft voice as she approached with a frown, fixing her messy hair from just waking up.

You quickly gave her a kiss on the lips, one that she didn't return. She seemed confused, good…

“You… You didn't wake me up,” the sleepy lady said with a voice broken by tiredness, trying to focus her vision on you.

“Of course I didn’t,” you said casually. “You told me you didn't like it so…”

“I don't like it,” she said quickly, frowning more. “I just, I just thought it was… Strange.”

“I didn't want to wake you up you, my love,” you said affectionately, running a hand over her face. “Look, I made some orange juice, do you fancy it?”

“Mm, yes, yes, I…” Donna stammered, blinking several times, as if something didn't fit, as if she suspected that your behavior had a reason. You hoped it wasn't like that. “Oh, you, you took a shower…”

You looked at yourself and nodded amused, putting the ground coffee in the old coffee maker and turning on the stove.

“Yeah, I take showers every day, honey,” you joked, shaking your head, pretending she was talking nonsense.

“You didn't wait for me, I thought you liked showering with me,” she commented, putting a hand on your shoulder, watching you toast some slices of bread.

“I couldn't wait for you to get up, Donna,” you said with a soft tone, but a mischievous look. “Did you want me to take a shower with you, my love?” you said with a fake pout, with a condescending voice that she, luckily, didn't know how to interpret. “I thought you liked to do it alone.”

“I like doing it alone,” she said, frowning again, stepping back proudly. “I just found it strange.”

“Mm,” you murmured with disinterest, looking away from her. “Go to take a shower, my love, I'll set the table.”

Donna looked at you strangely again, but nodded slowly, scratching her head and walking towards the door, giving you one last disoriented look.

“Um… Okay…” she whispered, finally disappearing from your presence.

You sighed in relief. Yes, it was funny to see Lady Beneviento confused, but your inner self screamed for you to throw yourself into her arms to don’t stop kissing her like every morning, telling her how much you loved her.

You would have to be strong if you wanted the strategy to work.

Donna went up to the dining room, where you were already waiting for her, having breakfast. Her black dress was already on her body and her silky hair was up in its usual updo, but her gaze was a little more serious than usual.

Without saying a word, well, as always, she sat down in front of you, moving her chair closer to the table and lifting her gaze briefly, as if she were analyzing yours.

You smiled innocently, taking a sip of your coffee.

Time passed slowly, and the lady didn't move, she didn't do anything, she didn't pour herself coffee, she didn't spread toast in oil, she simply looked at you nervously, you knew perfectly well why.

“Are you okay, my love? Aren't you hungry?” you asked, pretending a worried face.

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and shaking her head.

“Yes, I... I was, I was waiting,” she stammered, without taking her eye off you.

“Waiting?” you asked amused, pouring some sugar on you cup. “What are you waiting for, darling?”

“Um, well… Aren’t..? Aren't you going to do the usual?” she asked in a rougher tone, with an unpleasant gesture, crossing her arms.

“Mm? What do you mean?” you asked, holding back your laughter, keeping your composure.

 She groaned, looking away again.

“You know, that nonsense of ‘preparing my morning coffee with love and lots of kisses so I can have a good day’,” Donna said in a mocking, almost unpleasant tone.

You opened your eyes wide, pretending to realize it and shook your head soon after.

“Oh, but that's just cheesy to you, isn't it?” you asked in a calm tone, picking up another piece of toast. “I thought you hated it.”

“I, I…” the doll maker stammered, changing her confused face to a proud one, which indicated to you that your strategy was paying off from the first moment. “I hate it, tesoro.”

“Really? I can do it for you if you want,” you joked, taking her cup of coffee, which she suddenly snatched from you, shaking her head effusively.

“No, no, I've already told you that I hate it,” she said without looking at you, serving herself the coffee.

“Sure, sure,” you sighed, biting your lip at her nervous attitude. “Do you want some juice?”

You didn't know if she was really disoriented, if she really missed your sentimentality, but it was still too early to tell. Deciphering her behavior was always a task worthy of research.

The rest of the day didn't give you many more opportunities to test her patience and your feelings, until the afternoon came.

The afternoon was the moment when you always went down to the workshop with a cup of tea in your hand, ready to cuddle your girlfriend as much as you could, to hug her, sit on her lap and caress and kiss her while she worked.

It was tempting, Donna was tempting. Her stoic pose, her shy caresses, her annoyed sighs that betrayed a certain comfort… Of course, that was the hardest part for you. Not even a day had passed and you were already crazy for her kisses, for showing her your love. Again, you would have to be stronger.

“Ha, you lost!” Angie mocked, pointing at you while you clumsily hid behind a piece of furniture.

You didn't really feel like playing hide and seek that day, but if you didn't, you knew Angie would destroy your ears with her protests.

“You found me, again,” you said, dusting yourself off and looking at the clock, sighing. It was time, time for your way to the basement, for a well-deserved ration of annoying kisses and hugs to the brunette.

That day you wouldn't go down.

“Loser, silly loser…” Angie mocked, humming childishly and walking towards the sofa. “I plan to beat you every time.”

“Really?” you said amused, arching an eyebrow. “We'll have to see about that…” you whispered with a challenging look. “Come on, it's your turn.”

“What?” the doll asked confused, also looking at the clock. “Do you want to keep playing?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” you said nodding, with a fake smile.

Angie approached you with a slow step, looking you up and down.

“Aren't you going to go see my Donna?” she asked with a different tone, as if the puppet herself was confused.

“No,” you said, letting yourself fall on the sofa, picking up a book that was on the table. “I don't want to disturb her. I know she doesn't like it.”

“Um… Of course, she doesn't like it…” Angie murmured, making you frown. “You're very strange, silly, silly…”

“No, I’m not. I just want to be nice for once and let her work in peace, I know I'm very annoying,” you murmured, checking to your dismay that the book wasn't in your language. Great, you couldn't be distracted by it.

“Yes, you're a sticky pain, but…” Angie said, with a nervous voice and pose, lowering the book so she could look at your face.

You looked back at her, studying her gestures, and her words.

“But?” you asked curiously, with a more serious tone.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” the doll said, getting off the couch and waving her hand, moving away from you.

“Okay…” you murmured with an amused smile. “Come, help me find a book I can read,” you said, clapping your hands and getting up.

So you had a fun time, reading that adventure book with Angie. You had almost forgotten that in the basement there was someone who hadn't had her tea…

A sudden sound alerted you. The elevator door suddenly opened and nervous heels quickly approached where you were. Donna appeared in the living room, breathing heavily, looking for something everywhere. That nervousness ended when her eye made contact with yours.

“Cazzo…” she hissed, sighing in relief. “(Y/N)…”

“Oh, hi, honey, are you okay?” you said, putting the book aside and walking towards the lady in black, who was rubbing her eye while shaking her head. “What's wrong, my love? Is it a crisis?”

“No, no,” she denied, sighing again and looking at you strangely. “You’ve scared me.”

“Have I scared you?” you asked amused, with your hands on your hips. “I haven't done anything, Donna.”

“Yes, that's it, I…” Donna said, interrupting your performance. “You, you haven't gone down to the workshop,” she said in a small voice, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I didn't want to disturb you,” you said simply, with a tender smile.

“Oh, okay, I…” the lady in black stammered, with an exaggerated look of disinterest, nodding slowly.

“What's wrong, honey? Did you miss me?” you said with an amused look, pouting. Donna stood proudly, with a serious expression, shaking her head.

“No, of course I didn’t. It's been a while since I was this calm,” she said looking at her nails, her worried expression changing radically.

“I'm glad to know it,” you said, pretending that those words hadn't cruelly pierced your heart.

Hold on, (Y/N), hold on…

“Mm, I just found it strange… You didn't come to disturb me, I thought maybe… Maybe…” The pride in her words diminished little by little, closing her eye before finishing. “I thought you had left.”

“Where? You know that if I go somewhere I have the courtesy to let you know, Donna,” you said with a calm, soft and tender tone.

Again, you had to suppress the desire of your hands to cup her face, to caress her soft skin. It was much harder than you thought.

“Yes, that's why I thought, that, that maybe…” she stammered, darkening her gaze, avoiding yours. “Nevermind, it's, it's nonsense.”

“Okay,” you said, calmly. “Don't worry, my love, I'm not going anywhere, I was just reading.”

“What…? What were you reading?” the lady asked, with a strange expression, playing with her hands, as if she was terribly nervous about something.

You ignored those gestures, ones that only confirmed your small victories, and walked towards the sofa.

“Mm, this one,” you said, showing her the book. “It's quite entertaining.”

“I see,” Donna said with a slightly uncomfortable smile, coming a little closer, slowly, as if something had scared her. “Maybe, maybe you'd like me to… Read with you.”

“Do you want to read with me?” you asked with genuine confusion.

You certainly didn't expect her reaction to be that fast. It's true that you often read together, but Donna always ended up getting tired of your kisses and your nice words. It was very rare that she asked you to do it, you always did it first.

“Yes, well... It's been a long time since we did it,” the lady whispered with a smile that seemed almost pleading to you.

You shrugged, appealing to your strength. No, you couldn't fall yet.

“But Donna... You always complained that you couldn't read a paragraph with me by your side,” you said calmly.

The lady in black opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped at the last moment, nodding defeated.

“Besides, I'm sure you've read this book a thousand times. You're just going to get bored,” you commented, looking away and sighing listlessly, sitting back down on the couch.

“Certo, you’re, you’re right…” she murmured, sighing tiredly as you pretended to continue reading, watching the lady from the corner of your eye.

Donna shifted, sitting curiously beside you, as if she didn’t know what to do, what to say, or if she even wanted to do it either.

There was a tense moment of silence until, out of surprise, a soft hand placed your hair behind your ear, her hand.

“I got really scared,” Donna whispered, moving closer, taking your hand. You frowned, glancing at her briefly. “I thought you were gone, that you had abandoned me.”

“What nonsense, why would I want to leave?” you asked distractedly, without looking at her, something very complicated, but that you managed with less and less effort.

“I don't know but...” she whispered, taking the book away from your hands, so you pretended to grunt in protest.

“Donna, I was reading,” you said, subtly imitating her protests. You hoped it was subtle enough.

“I know, but... I... I want to love you so much...” she purred seductively, starting to kiss your neck, something that made you repress a pleasurable gasp. Of course, that attitude wasn’t very common in the doll maker. “…To thank you for being here, with me...”

“Mmm Donna,” you said, interrupting her increasingly ardent kisses just as she did, with a hand on her chest. “No, okay? I don't feel like it now.”

“Why? You always feel like it,” she protested, not in a cold tone, but in a melancholic, sad one. “Tesoro… Please… I want to make love to you…”

“I don’t feel like it, Donna, I’m tired,” you said, pleased by that sudden submission, amused, perhaps excessively, by the quick effect your strategy had.

Yes, seeing Donna begging for your company was pleasurable. It was too soon to give up, even though you were wishing for it.

“Ugh, get out…” you said abruptly, pushing the lady away, leaving her completely disoriented. “Don’t bother me, Donna.”

“What? Don’t bother you?” she asked, standing up abruptly, shaking her head, mouth agape. “Qual è il tuo problema?!”

“Excuse me? Donna, the language…” you scoffed, hiding your evil smile behind the book again. “Come on, don't be mad.”

“Don't be mad?” she asked, with a nervous laugh. “This is unbelievable…”

“Come on, what's wrong with you? Didn't you say you were sick of me being clingy?” you asked, pretending to be focused on the words that, obviously, you weren't reading.

“Yes, and I am, you're a pain, (Y/N),” Donna said with a hurtful tone that your heart quickly dodged, you knew she was just nervous.

“So what's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be relieved because I left you alone?” you asked with the same gloomy tone.

The lady laughed nervously again, running a hand through her hair, but relaxing immediately.

“Yes, I'm very happy to be able to breathe,” she said with a mocking tone, with a dark look.

“I see that,” you scoffed. “Shh, be quiet, I want to read.”

“Arrgh!” Donna growled, clenching her fists tightly on either side of her hips. “Have a good time!” she shrieked, walking quickly towards the hallway again.

“You too, my love!” you shouted in a tone devoid of annoyance, ignoring her shouts. “And don't be mad, you look very ugly when you are!”

“Vaffanculo!” she shrieked from the hallway with an angry growl.

“What does that mean?” you asked in a whisper to Angie, who looked at the scene in astonishment as if she were watching a tennis match.

“Do you really want to know?” the doll asked, in her usual mocking tone.

You laughed amused, turning a page and shaking your head.

“Mm, I don't think so,” you whispered, arching your eyebrows.

“Hey, silly girl, start talking,” Angie said, putting your book down again and climbing onto the couch.

“Mm?” you murmured, frowning.

“I know you're up to something, and I don't like it at all,” she hissed, pointing her finger at you, staring directly into your soul.

“Me? I'm not up to anything,” you said passively, looking at the hallway where Donna had gone, wondering if she had really gotten that angry and above all, why.

“Liar...” the puppet hissed. “Be very careful, silly girl, Angie is always watching.”

You smiled with an innocent look, returning to that book, or rather, to your thoughts.

Your strategy had been a complete success. The lady in black had been completely disoriented and confused by your change of attitude, and that was what you wanted. Her irrational rage only told you that you didn't have to worry, she loved you, but your incipient insecurities made you continue with that behavior for a few more days.

The lack of affection, hugs, caresses... Took its toll on you, but, determined to prove to yourself that she liked the clingy way you were, you wanted to pull the rope a bit further.

There were no romantic breakfasts or visits to the workshop, there were no cuddles, affection, kisses... There was nothing. The brunette's attitude was distant, as always, but with a touch of annoyance, anger.

Bearing that cold look was increasingly difficult. Not giving in to your impulses to go down and cuddle Donna was already unbearable. Reading no longer served as a distraction so, during one of those afternoons, you decided to leave the house for a walk in the woods.

While you walked, you meditated on your actions, you thought about Donna, about whether she was really suffering as much as she seemed.

You thought you were just being cruel, that you were torturing her, but when you thought about previous weeks, about her subtle contempt, about her apathy, your desire to continue with that reprimand didn’t diminish.

You were never vengeful, you never let yourself be carried away by that dark side and you began to discover why. It was addictive, dangerously addictive.

The sun shone less intensely as you threw stones off the cliff. The afternoon had passed quickly. Thinking, planning, meditating... That made you completely forget about the time. At least the temptation to run into her arms had gone unnoticed by you.

You opened the door of the mansion and walked slowly. The silence of that place was always disturbing but... What you heard was even more so.

An agonizing sob reached your ears, making you stop in your tracks. Your legs trembled when you recognized it.

“Donna, Donna…” Angie's voice sounded calm, too calm. “Donna, no…”

“She's gone! Porca puttana! She's gone!” Donna screamed, making you freeze in fear.

After that furious scream, loud noises accompanied by a furious panting ran through the old walls.

“Donna, stop breaking things!” Angie yelled after another noise which revealed that something fragile had broken into a thousand pieces.

You shook your head with a hand on your mouth in shock. It had been a long time since the lady lost her mind like that, a long time. You couldn't help but think it was your fault.

“Donna, you cut yourself, you silly, silly Donna!” Angie shrieked, surely trying to control her owner's rage.

You took a breath and began to walk slowly, with shaky legs.

Your little reading corner was a mess. The table was upside down on the floor, the cups and books that were always there were scattered on the floor, broken in a thousand pieces.

Donna was in a corner, her back against the wall and her head buried in her knees, crying inconsolably. You approached slowly, not wanting to draw her attention.

“È colpa mia…” the doll maker sobbed, with a muffled moan. “She left because of me.”

Angie shook her head as she hugged her tenderly, trying to get her to come back to her senses.

Suddenly, the puppet turned her head and looked at you, gasping in surprise.

“Oh, you silly, silly!” she shouted euphorically, pointing at you as she jumped up and down on the wood. “Look, Donna, look, it's the silly, silly girl,” she insisted, pulling the brunette's hand, who slowly looked up.

“Donna, my love…” you sighed, with a sad, regretful look.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you, blinking quickly and breathing nervously. “(Y/N)!” she shrieked, crawling on the floor and grabbing your legs in a pathetic way, which made you step back. “Don't leave! Don't abandon me!”

“What? Oh, please, my love… Re-relax, I haven't gone anywhere, I was walking through the woods,” you said nervously, bending down to take her away from that pitiful hug, taking her hands and helping her sit on the couch “Donna, my love, react, come to your senses, my precious Donna…”

“You wanted to leave… You're gone,” she stammered, blinking erratically, shaking her head, unable to stop crying.

Your heart broke just like those tea cups, into a thousand pieces.

“Shhh, no, no darling, I'm not going to leave, I'm still, I'm still here with you…” you said, caressing her face, her hands, staining yourself with a red moisture that came from a wound, probably the cut Angie was talking about.

“Oh, wow, darling… you're bleeding,” you whispered worriedly, repressing your desire to cry. “Wait a minute, I'm going, I'm going to heal you. Angie, please, keep an eye on her.”

“Aye!” the doll shouted, taking your place on the couch.

There were no words. You simply healed that horrible wound in silence while the brunette sobbed more and more weakly, ashamed of her madness, unable to look at you.

“Donna, my love,” you whispered while you healed her, looking at her out of the corner of your eye. “How could you think that I had abandoned you? There's no place I'm better off than with you…”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she murmured, wiping away a tear, looking away, fighting back her sobs. “You don't want to be with me.”

“Oh, wow, so now you dedicate yourself to guessing people's feelings, huh?” you joked with a tender, amused smile. “Then change your job because you're not doing it well…”

“Stop with the stupid jokes, you know perfectly well why I'm saying this,” the lady snapped, removing her injured hand from yours.

You snorted, gripping it tighter again.

“Stay still, will you? I have to heal this,” you murmured, shaking your head. “Donna…” you growled when she struggled against your grip again.

“Leave me alone, stop pretending you love me,” she protested. “If you don't want to be here with me, tell me.”

“You're stubborn, huh?” you said, sighing, with a colder look. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense!” Donna shrieked, making you back off. “You've shown me this last week. You you don't love me anymore, you don't kiss me. You’re, you're not with me when I work on my dolls. It seems as if I disgust you…”

“I'm not disgusted by you,” you said in a serious, almost brusque tone. “I love you with all my soul.”

“Do you? Then why don't you show it to me anymore?” she asked furiously again.

It was time to be honest.

“I could ask you the same thing, Donna,” you whispered, shaking your head, passing a bandage over her injured hand. “I've always, always tried to give you all my love but you… You seemed to reject it. You always complained about me being too clingy, you hated it, do you know how it made me feel?”

“I don't hate it,” she murmured, with a different tone, with a dark but tender look. “I don't hate it… I don't hate it!”

You nodded nervously.

“I love your kisses, your hugs! I love when you come to see me, when you sit on my lap and say nice things to me! I love your smile, your joy! I love that joy I don't have and can only see in you!” she shouted nervously, confessing the truth you wanted to hear, one you ignored, one for which you caused all that suffering in poor Donna.

“Do you…?” you asked a bit surprised, relaxing Donna with your caresses on her cheek while she shook her head. “Do you...? Do you really the way I am?”

“Yes, I love the way you are, I, I like you being clingy. I love when you don't let me breathe, when you remind me that you love me... you always try to cheer me up… I love you, I want that light that I'm unable to transmit, I want the light in your eyes, the love you give me, the love I can't live without…” she said not looking at you, pressing her lips together to suppress her shame at those words, words that moved you.

“Wow, that's very sweet, Donna,” you said, smiling, bringing her face closer to yours to kiss her lips softly, lovingly, like you had wanted to do for so long. “Forgive me, I was the one who acted that way because… Because I thought it really annoyed you and…”

“You've never annoyed me,” she said, interrupting you. “If I've behaved like an idiot it's because… Because… I'm, I'm scared.”

“You're scared…” you repeated in a soft whisper.

She nodded.

“I'm afraid of letting myself be carried away by your addictive love and that, that one day you won't... won't be by my side,” she said with a sad tone, taking your other hand. “I know, I know I don't... I don't know how to love the same way you do, I know I'm a grumpy fool but it's just that... I've never known what love is until... Until I met you.”

“I understand, darling,” you said with an understanding tone, kissing her again. “Relax, it's all over now... I'll give you all those overwhelming affections that I now know you love...”

Donna smiled at your mischievous caresses, laughing at last, nervous and shy, lighting you up with the joy on her face, one that soon vanished, when the lady grabbed your hands tightly with a pleading look.

“Per favore, (Y/N), I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me again... Don't ignore me ever again, please...”

[fleurrreads]

pretty little rich girl

pairings: benny cross x fem!reader

warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)

author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.

Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.

You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.

"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.

You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.

Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.

You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.

You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.

"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.

Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.

Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.

"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.

"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.

Six weeks later, you married him.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

[penkura]

Scared of Doctors anon again.

I now raise you: Law during his time at Punk Hazard finding y/n while they're still a subject.

Honestly I have too many thoughts about this. It's helping me wait for the dub to come out

Such good ideas though, omg. I'm thinking and more is coming to me for this, it's such a good prompt. There's so many ways it could go!

But for now...

Law had not intended to save you when he came to Punk Hazard. He had a plan, one that would hopefully bring down this Devil Fruit factory and help him get his revenge, it didn't include meeting and getting to know you little by little in the time he was there. You had run into Law by accident when trying to escape, making him curious about what was going on.

You look scared when you first run into him, having turned a corner abruptly and colliding with the young doctor, asking him for help.

"Please, help me get out of here!"

"What?"

There's a fear in your eyes he doesn't like seeing, while you grip his coat tightly and plead with Law to save you, somehow. He knew Caesar was conducting experiments, obviously with the SMILE fruit and everything, but he didn't know the extent, and now he's more curious seeing you.

You look perfectly fine and healthy, there doesn't seem to be a reason why you should be afraid of anything. Most of the people that Law has seen through the lab are willing participants, or they've been bribed by Caesar with something for him to use them. You don't seem to fit either bill, unless there's something hidden that even he can't see.

But his powers should tell him, right? The brief scan he does shows nothing is wrong, though he can see some kind of drugs in your system. He'd have to do his own testing to figure out what they are and what they're for, but you're interrupted by Monet a moment later.

"Oh, I see you've met our oldest patient, doctor."

Law's concerns grow when you immediately remove your hands from him, looking towards the ground with more fear than before. Monet explains you'd been sick with a highly deadly virus three years ago before she and Caesar took you in, away from your home and family, and have been working ever since to find a cure. He watches as you back away bit by bit, turning more into yourself and apologizing, before turning around and running back where you'd come from. When he asks Monet at the illness was, she beats around the bush and doesn't give a straight answer, Law knows something is wrong with this situation but he's not in a position to figure out what it is.

Not until the Straw Hats and the Navy show up anyway. The distractions provided by them allow him the time to find you again, though you still seem fearful of him. He holds his hands up where you can see them, making you tilt your head.

"I won't hurt you. I won't touch you at all. I can use my powers to see about your illness."

"...why bother? I'm gonna die anyway."

How strange, to hear words he'd said so long ago said to his own face, but in such a different situation. After Law explains how his Devil Fruit powers work, you consent to letting him do a proper Scan, and you're confused when he tells you there's no sign of any illnesses in your body. He still sees those drugs in your system, but he doesn't have the time to check what they are yet.

"We're going to destroy this place. You'll have to come with me if you want answers from Caesar."

You really don't know if you should trust him or not, he hasn't given you much of a reason not to apart from being a doctor, like Caesar and Monet had claimed to be. Your voice is shaky when you ask Law if he promises to find out what happened, and when he does, you're almost crying as you nod. Law lets you take his hand, once you've calmed down and agreed to go with him, he starts to lead you to a safer area.

"I won't let anything happen to you, all right? Not until we get you the answers you need."

For some reason, you decide to trust him.

[naomistares]

since your art style has changed (and i love how expressive and mischievous? it feels now, idk if that makes sense but i admire the heck out of your growth) what does your process look like now? do you use the same brushes as before? do you want to talk about what you love about your work now? i saw your tag about tlt redraws now that you like your art and it made me curious. anyway love your art so much, nori!

hi!! thank you so much for this very cool question!! i guess before i just drew without much putting any thought to like... anything at all haha, only when i started doing comics was when i actively tried to make myself enjoy the process more.

i just thought about what I hated and tried to change it and just do a lot more art studies in my own time and try to really think about everything... like composition ! and like with colors, i didn't like how i only used to use desaturated tones, when i enjoyed more colors in other art i see.

or with poses, i didn't like how everything i drew felt very static to me, it still does but i'm getting better!! so i've studied dynamic-ness and whatnot.

i didn't like how "realistic" i would naturally go with proportions while drawing when my personal taste enjoyed more cartoon-ish and whimsical proportions, so i tried to be a little bit more loose with that but i'm not all there yet. for example, when i do some reference studies in my own time i find myself copying it 1:1 as it is, so now i try to incorporate it into a specific style without just copying it, it doesn't feel like i benefited otherwise!

i'm also trying to currently improve my lineart, i'm finding it much more enjoyable to draw with a thin brush! my lines were often thick and bulky and not super clean.

and yes!! i used to be loyal to like one or two brushes but i'm just trying new things constantly and it definitely affects the general vibe of the drawing, i've been obsessed with pencil brushes but i'm retiring it for a bit for a more jagged brush that i'm obsessed with now lol (still haven't posted anything with that, (working on it) but it totally changed the vibe.)

i feel like i often know when something looks right but i struggle on how to get there at times, but lately i've been seeing more right than wrong and just generally enjoying drawing.... drawing is my favorite thing.... i clocked in 9 hours yesterday on procreate.

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/lost-in-fandoms/762168056269144064/thinking-about-streamer-max-who-lowkey-does?source=share

Omg. Omg!!!! Streamer Max my beloved! What does Daniel do when he stumbles onto Max's stream? I'm just imagining him clicking on a random link or something and suddenly bam he's got a face full of this pretty streamer with slutty short shorts!

(Anyway love your work and hope you have a great day!! 🥰)

You are so sweet I hope you have a great day too!!

Some slutty streamer Max to try and have something good to end the day with

Daniel sighs, rolling over towards the bedside table and grabbing his phone, checking the time for what feels like the twentieth time that night already.

4:42 am.

Just twenty minutes after the last time he checked.

He sighs again, sitting up slightly to drink some water, resigned to the fact that he'll probably won't get any sleep tonight either. If he's lucky, he'll get a couple hours when the sun is rising and then sneak a nap in somewhere during the afternoon.

He knows that jet lag is not helping, having landed in Perth from Los Angeles just two days ago, but he's been dealing with this insomnia for way too long to lie to himself any further. Sleep simply isn't coming.

He's tried most things already tonight, from the relaxing herbal tea his mom had recommended, to the white noise machine, to the podcasts, to the meditation. Nothing has worked.

He grabs his phone again, going through some of his messages and emails before clicking on the twitch app.

It's something new he's been trying the past couple of weeks, doesn't even remember who recommended it to him, and so far it hasn't worked, but at this point into the night he's willing to do anything. Whoever it was who first told him about it had been speaking about ASMR streams and music channels, but Daniel has been mostly browsing around, not really finding anything that catches his eye.

Tonight, he moves past the few streams he has followed already, scrolling through the live channels without looking for anything in particular, until something catches his eyes.

At first glance the stream doesn't look like anything special, even if the game itself looks cute, just a guy in a dimly lit room in a corner of the screen, mouth moving to say words Daniel can't hear yet, but.

The guy is sitting on a gaming chair, leaning back slightly in a way that Daniel doubts is fully comfortable, legs splayed, his short shorts bunched up to leave milky skin on display. He's using both hands to play, but just as Daniel is watching, slightly transfixed, he laughs, probably at something in chat, and brings one hand away to lightly scratch at his neck and then down to his leg, pulling it more to the side, fingers grazing on his crotch.

Daniel swallows.

He taps on the screen, opening the stream without really thinking about it, finally letting the guy's voice play through the speakers.

"...just for 40 more minutes. No, you cannot bribe me for one hour, Kiks, not even if you use the cute emote. I have work."

He has an accent, a lisp that comes out when he says Kiks, bright blue eyes and a lovely smile. And a hand that is still on his dick.

Daniel's eyes fall on the name of the stream, Farming some slimes, which tells him nothing, and the name of the game, Slime Rancher 2, which tells him that at least he's not in some sort of secret porn category, before going back to the camera square.

The guy is now playing again, hands just barely in view from where they're wrapped around the controller, and Daniel takes a breath, trying to gather his bearings after feeling like he's just been hit over the head with an hammer.

The chat is scrolling by slowly, his 236 viewers obviously not all interested in talking, so Daniel has no problem catching the last few messages. It's mostly people complaining about the guy leaving early, the person he was talking to earlier, KicksforKiks24, offering to gift some subs if he stays longer, and Daniel wonders if he is the only one noticing the absolutely sinful thighs on display here.

Nightnectior: What if I ask really nicely Max?

The new message pops up in chat, and Daniel watches as the streamer, Max apparently, laughs again, shaking his head.

"No, Night, I told you, I have things to do early in the morning."

Okay, maybe Daniel is the weird one here. Maybe he is the only one thinking about Max's legs and reading his posture wrong. Maybe he is the only perv in this chat, and everyone else is absolutely normal.

Severson: would love to see you do /things/ in the morning

Daniel chokes on his spit.

He's expecting Max to ignore it, or to delete the message, or to have any kind of reasonable reaction, but Max.

Max grins.

He blinks slowly, shifting on the chair almost casually, bringing one foot up to rest on the seat, shorts bunching up so much Daniel can see a hint of pubes, the outline of his balls and dick now fully visible, and then sliding a hand down his thigh to rest on his lower belly, fingers grazing his crotch again.

"Would you?" he asks, voice low.

Daniel has forgotten what Max's asking about. He's forgotten about anything that isn't the desire of sinking his teeth in the meat of his thigh, to have them wrapped around his head, and the knowledge that his dick is half hard already.

"I don't think that's how it works," Max says, in response to a message Daniel doesn't even care to look at right now. He's barely aware of the chat going faster now, more messages popping up in a rapid succession.

"Oh look at all of you, coming out to play."

Max's hand slides lower, now fully on his dick, as he giggles, a sliver of his stomach exposed too. Daniel's heart is beating in his ears. He doesn't know what's happening.

There's a new sound on the stream, something that startles Daniel out of his daze enough to realise someone has just donated €50 just to call Max a pretty boy.

Daniel wonders how hard it is to figure out how donations work. How much he can donate without his bank blocking his account. How much it would take for Max to do something.

He swallows, feeling slightly insane.

Max's fingers squeeze once.

Daniel's breath stutters in his chest, his hands twitching, wanting to touch himself too but so transfixed he doesn't dare moving.

And then Max shifts, grabbing the controller again and sitting up a bit, shirt falling back into place. Even if the outline of his dick is still clearly visible, something in the spell breaks, letting Daniel breathe again.

He can still feel his heart rabbiting in his chest, his mouth dry. His dick is hard under the sheets.

With a trembling finger, Daniel presses follow.

[cdbabymp3]

ur writing is so chefs kiss omggg 🤍 would love if you could expand on the part in your hc fic on where a sex scene comes up and hamzah gets super nervous omggg

MDNI 18+ expansion on my editor!reader hc's (tysm for the kind words !!!<3)

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ to be fair, both of you did not do research on the movie currently playing in front of you. it was rated R, but for what reasons neither of you cared to check. hamzah sort of just put it on and beckoned you to couch after you'd been editing for a majority of the day. it was smooth sailing for the first 45 minutes or so, until the two main love interests finally get each other alone. anticipating what's to come next, hamzah clears his throat and gets up to get more popcorn from the kitchen. he's gone for longer than he should and once he returns, the two characters finally start going at it.

"jesus christ..." he mumbles, pretending to check a notification on his phone as the two characters grind against each other.

it's graphic. not just a brief little love scene. no, god, no. the main girl whimpers and pants, riding the main with so much force that their bed rocks against the wall. the man grips her ass, spanking her roughly as she begs him for more.

your face feels like it's on fire and you can only imagine what hamzah must be feeling. he lets out a nervous, breathy laugh, adjusting his pajama pants not-so-discreetly.

"we can-um, we can watch something else if you want." you suggest, grabbing the remote and turning down the volume to the main girl isn't screeching in your ear.

hamzah shakes his head, mouth full of popcorn, "nah, it's fine. i'm sure it's almost done."

boy, was he wrong. the scene lasted about 5 minutes and little did you know, hamzah was internally a fucking wreck. being a single guy, was one thing. sure, he got horny pretty frequently. but, being a single guy living with a single girl who he thought was the hottest woman to ever grace his presence......it had him praying you couldn't read his mind in this moment. if you knew what he was imagining, the dirty fantasies of throwing you on the bed the way the characters did.....he doesn't even want to think about how much you'd probably hate him.

"are you okay?" you nudge his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance.

he blinks a couple times, swallowing the chewed popcorn that had just been sitting in mouth, "yeah, no-sorry. i was trying to disassociate so this damn scene would go by faster."

a lie. a blatant lie that he hopes you'll believe. but you don't. how are you supposed to believe him when he looks all flushed and awkward, scratching the back of his neck while he avoids eye contact. he's a terrible liar, you giggle to yourself. however, for the sake of your work relationship, you just shrug and lay back against the couch.

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @nativegirltapes @etherealval + let me know if u wanna be added !!!

[oldmanjenkins985]

TW for pedophila since I mention it very briefly at one point I would like to clarify, with all the Tessa age shit that's been going on, that my intent with this was not to prove that Tessa is an adult so she can go on to be sexualized and shit like that. My intent was to prove it was ambigious by showing all the evidence is circumstantial with explanations that both sides could use. And if you boil down *any* character, ambigious age or not, to sexualizing them, that's a completely different issue and one that very much matters. I very much do not care for that stuff, and yes I did have a crush on Tessa once. I was 17 at the time though, meaning that even if she was as young 15 that'd only be a 2 year age gap, so don't you *dare* try and accuse me of being a fuckin' weirdo or anything. I've moved on to other characters now, that being N and Uzi.

Now then, to go along with that, anyone who is uncomfortable with explicit remarks made towards Tessa or Flesha are *completely* allowed to do that regardless of her age. Whether in ambiguity or if she eventually gets confirmed to be an adult, you are *allowed* to be uncomfortable with that. You're allowed to do that with 40 year olds even.

A lot of you who were saying constantly that Tessa is a minor as if it was canon are yourselves minors. So I completely understand why you'd feel this way. The two examples I can think of are @/nuvimuvi and @/kittydragondraws (Don't wanna ping cause I don't wanna bother you with this crap). Your feelings on this are valid and there's no need for you to say Tessa is a minor as if it's confirmed canon when it's not and even one of the people in the Glitch Inn can't give a definitive answer. I don't care that he's not the end all be all, if he has just as much info as the rest of us then why would he come to the conclusion it's ambigious if he could look and see she's "clearly" a minor?

So basically: You're allowed to headcanon Tessa as a minor and be uncomfortable with explicit content surrounding her and Flesha, but that does not mean Tessa is canonically a minor and that people are pedos for saying stuff like that.

Oh, one more thing since we're here. I wanna touch on the Bite Me music video render to clear things up.

So, I've seen a lot of people saying this isn't a "sexy" pose (sorry for lack of better word), but it just...is. And no, that doesn't mean they're sexualizing Flesha, I'll get to that in a moment.

So if you just look up "sexy lean back sitting" on google, you'll find a ton of pictures of people posed extremely similar to Cyn. I'm also pretty certain I've seen pin-up drawings of when in this pose. And one final example: Widowmaker from Overwatch. *The* character who's sexualization is a big part of her design. Her sitting emote is this exact pose. And for as long as I've known this is just *the* sexy sitting pose for women. I don't know where I got that from, just that it's been in my brain for years now.

Now then, let's get back to what I said earlier about this not necessarily meaning it's meant to be sexual. I just went over how it is clearly sexual, so why the fuck am I saying it's possibly not? Very simple, it could be a joke. I've done the "Sexy pose" as a joke for years now. Even when I was 16, 17, hell even maybe as far back as 15, I've done this *exact* pose as a joke. I'm a man, so a pose like this isn't the "sexy" pose most would think of for males and that's why it worked as a joke because it was like "oh, I'm so girly" Now that doesn't mean you *have* to be a man to make it ironic and funny rather than actually sexualizing. You can just be a girl or say...an eldritch horror wearing a girl's skin. Something that horrid looking could be seen as funny when doing a pose like this since it's not exactly something you expect to see. And an even further way to say it isn't sexual: It just...might not be intended that way. It could very well just be how they had her sit. Like I said before, this is *the* go to sexy pose for women, but that doesn't mean every woman sitting like this is intending for that to be how she's percieved. They could just be...sitting.

In conclusion of that, yes this is a sexy pose, stop saying it isn't, but that doesn't mean the intent is that Flesha is supposed to be attractive. It could very easily be a joke or have no intent behind it and that's it. So once again, like most stuff surrounding this, it's completely up to the viewer to interpret it as it's ambigious.

[natsunenuko]

TW // mental issues, mental absue, harassment, surgery/blood

I'm sorry this one is so long, but please carry on reading. It's a chance for me to not only speak about the situation but let out some steam too. It is unfortunate this announcement comes at the same time the flood occurs on the south of my home country (Poland) and I'm in the endangered zone, luckily so far safe, as I feel my head can't handle more stress.

It's been so long since I've been this personal online. I realized how I didn't feel the urge to vent for 3-4 years by now which is a sign of improving mental health. But my healing is still a process, and I'm afraid it's too hard to carry this rock alone at this point. I fought my thoughts if I should do this and I think just as deeply as I write right now. Yet, I know it's better late than never and I thank deeply my friends for helping me out recently as well as in the past in my lowest. I wholeheartedly owe my life to you.

I couldn't ask for better friends. As years verified, even long lasting relationships might be nothing but a mask and I had to learn the hard way. I ended a friendship of 13 years at the time over a misunderstanding. Other person I put my trust on was nothing but a groomer with morally corrupted sexual tendencies who would take advange of a group of minors while being the only adult among them, yet acting like a person much younger than all of them and pressuring all their mental issues on children instead of seeking help. The latter, I might speak of more in detail when I'm ready.

Long time ago I tried calling out for help but back then, the intrusive thoughts won; "Others have it worse, just work harder.", "No one will give you anything for free, no one will care.", "What people will think of you?". and I would only speak about these things in a closed circle of my friends.

I tried my best in silence by not giving up on my creative passion, working restlessly for years, improving. Hoping I could reach the point I can sustain myself purely on what I make.

But the problem is not being self-sufficient. And it's not about my art...

All of my life it has been me, my momma and my granny. The other two important figures weren't there for us, by choice. (which is hard to say if losing someone you loved is worse than not being cared for in the first place) My rather young self at the time didn't put much thought about it as I didn't understand it but something always felt wrong; my only issues at the time was being "that weird, quiet kid with little to no friends". But despite the hardships, my momma has always been my hero, working without a time for a break or rest so we could live happily, to afford something special from time to time.

However in 2014 my momma has been hospitalised and almost lost her life to wrongly treated ovarian cyst (cyst rapture), with enough blood loss to require emergency surgery...

From that point on things went downhill and the result of that we feel to this very day. To stay afloat we fell into a severe dept. (We didn't have any savings, could only rely on borrowing money or loans) And since I was a child as all of this happened, I've only learned about it all throughfully as I entered adulthood, so I wouldn't need to worry about anything and "just be a kid". Which I really understand, but it doesn't make it easier to handle.

And by now, for several years I keep on trying to earn money, so I could free my momma from this chain and let her live, not survive. I always wanted to get through this quietly, because I never, ever wanted to burden anyone with my home problems. But it grew to a point I might need to grab anything to climb towards the light

The goal is $10 000... which is scarily large number.

I list all the options but Kofi is preferred to keep track of the funds!

My commissions are HERE! (the sheet will receive a slight update in upcoming days) My Kofi is HERE! (Level 4 Tea is free headshot drawing every month!) HERE's other services I do (adopts, brushes, etc) I plan to do paid requests for my friday streams on occasion! Anything else I come up with I hope to include in here! Every person who donates will be part of "Thank you" list where I hope to shoutout everybody, cause every penny matters. I want this situation to end...