#no hat bc... have mercy on me

[hachiibun]

The 3rd of January is a certain Wan/der/er’s birthday, and well—a new vision must bring new issues with it, right?

If you like my drawings, please consider buying me a coffee ☕ ! I’d really appreciate the help!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

[peachyutdr]

i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D

[sunboki]

— MR. FIREFIGHTER.

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe

WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO

AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha

In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.

Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.

You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.

About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.

Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.

“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.

“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.

Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?

Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.

And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.

“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.

He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.

“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”

“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.

“Scared?”

“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.

Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.

Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”

If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.

Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.

“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”

Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.

“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”

Momentarily, surprise etches his face.

He grins.

“Nah I’d—”

You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.

“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”

Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.

His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.

A man with a deadly duality.

Charming.

“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.

He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.

“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”

Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.

“I don’t know, am I?”

Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.

No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.

As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.

Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.

“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.

Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.

“In case my house burns down?”

“That’s a plus, yep.”

“You’re awful.”

Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[pinkaditty]

Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)

tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers

hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume. 

a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!

summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words. 

cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!

“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”

You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of  a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory. 

Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense. 

However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.

“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”

Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.” 

You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”

“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does. 

Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened. 

You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”

“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy. 

His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.

You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet. 

“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”

You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.

“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.

“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”

rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!

a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!

[tavina-writes]

I have been pondering the recent rash of "post canon NHS and LXC would never ever reconcile bc even if NHS wanted to have Er-ge back, LXC would never ever forgive him for [insert reason of choice here]" type of posts + the "do you think NHS thinks very hard about how much Da-ge would hate him for becoming [the way that he is now] by choosing to seek vengeance" type of posts, and I think fundamentally the reason these posts do not jive with me is that we have no indication, in the show or in the book that uh, NHS gives a shit about either of these things very much anymore?

The first type of post is predicated on the assumption that LXC's forgiveness or lack thereof some some sort of either extension of mercy (which NHS obviously does not deserve <- or so assumes the post) or some form of punishment (which is obviously the correct answer) but the last scene we get with NHS both in the book and the show make no indication that this is a thing he wants? Or cares about? Book NHS has *sauntered off* with his little hat trophy and Show NHS walks off screen after saying something along the lines of "What is my responsibility I won't shirk, what isn't my responsibility I won't care about." Now, arguably, show NHS is having a worse go of it emotionally, but shows no real inclination or interest in either apologies or making up and being friends again with LWJ, LXC, WWX, or other people. Book NHS seems pretty pleased with the outcome of the events as a whole?

The second type of post is predicated on the fact that NHS finds Da-ge's judgement a horrible burden to bear at this stage in the game, which! He might! But again especially in the book we get no indication that he has any fucks left to give about what Da-ge may or may not have wanted since Da-ge is dead. In both the show and the book, NHS went about revenge taking very specific and complicated actions with the desired result of JGY dying, but he certainly took the scenic route getting there, which, he didn't need to? As I've written about before, JGY didn't see him as a threat. If he wanted JGY dead he could've arranged to poison JGY's tea like, 10 years ago and had done with it instead of his complicated Rube Goldberg life ruining scheme. If he is still sickly anxious about how Da-ge might feel about the scheming and the trouble causing and the whole everything, that's certainly possible, but he must've decided it was worth it anyway regardless of that, and I don't know that it necessarily would've changed just because he got what he wanted at the end.

Overall, I think as a fandom we think a lot about like "will and should this relationship ever be repaired or similar to how it used to be?" and "does this character deserve/not deserve the forgiveness of people they've hurt or abandoned?" which can be interesting questions! I do feel like these are often taken as "is a character morally good (deserves to be forgiven) or morally bad (deserves to rot in hell forever never forgiven ever ever)" and based entirely on if Character is the meta writer's blorbo. Under this paradigm the concept of "Character did bad things to get exactly what they wanted and were happy about that and no relationships were ever repaired and the emotional detachment of people they used to care about no longer matters to them!" is uncomfortable.

It's just that for NHS I've increasingly come to the conclusion that canonically, I don't think NHS thinks he has anything to apologize for, nor is he super interested in being forgiven! He got what he wanted the way he wanted it to happen. Which is potentially supremely unsatisfying but I think is very sexy as a narrative concept.

[grandlinedreams]

| for @eelnois bc I said I'd do it 😎 save a horse ride a cowboy ok bye time to hide

[!]: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI.

[Heads up!: Ace is hot (literally), pet names used (babe, sweetheart, pretty boy), gn!reader, dom-ish?reader, unprotected sex (make informed decisions kids!), floor sex lmao ouch]

With your legs slung on either side of his hips and his hat on your head, Ace thinks you've never looked more stunning to him than you do at this moment.

You catch the quiet, starry-eyed look of admiration on his face and the blush of your cheeks darkens. "What?"

"Nothing," Ace says, makes your heart flutter at the way the edges of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, reaching to caress your too-warm cheek. "You look good in my hat, sweetheart. That's all."

You reach up to toy with the floppy brim of the item you'd snagged from him earlier ㅡ and tilt it at a jaunty angle. "And now?"

"Stunning."

"You're just saying that," you chastise, and Ace laughs.

"Hardly. I just happen to think you look good in anything. Or anywhere." Ace's tone is soft, though his expression shifts to something between thoughtful and mischievous. "Beside me, beneath me...definitely above me..."

"Ace," you admonish as he snickers, reaching to pull you down for a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to dominate the kiss despite being the one pinned to the floor, and your head spins pleasantly with both the heat of his mouth and the wander of his hands.

Fingers splay across your back and up, bunching your shirt until you pull away to blink at Ace. "We're on the floor," you start, "do you really want to do this here?"

"Good as anywhere," Ace answers, unbothered as he tugs your shirt up and over your head. "I just want you, babe."

Though it's not the first time Ace has said that, it still makes your heart stutter in your chest. "I want you too," you murmur, watch his eyes light up as the blush of his cheeks darkens.

"'m all yours," he murmurs before he tugs you down. He doesn't have to ask if you feel the same when you respond so eagerly to his touch, when you laugh the way that you do, gravitating towards him like it's second nature ㅡ you love him just as much as he loves you.

It doesn't take long to shed your clothing, the quiet hiss from Ace when you settle against him again, this time bare ㅡ and he stops you when you go to remove his hat, squeezing at your hips. "W-Wait, keep the hat on. It looks good." He bites his lip. "Really good."

Ace will be the death of you, you swear ㅡ in the best of ways, of course. Your hands leave the brim of his hat, and you lean to kiss him as his lips curve.

His hands skim over your back and down, squeezing handfuls of soft skin and admiring every dip and curve, imperfections made perfect and loved for the simple fact that they're yours ㅡ he would never, could never fault you for them. They deserve as much admiration as the rest of you, something he takes pride in doing whole heartedly and without condition.

The inward slip of his fingers is expected given that he's far from fond of the idea of hurting you in even the slightest bit ㅡ much less when you're intimate. You muffle your moans into his shoulder at his practiced touch, the way he knows you well enough to sense when you're getting impatient.

Your fingers splay across his chest as you sink down onto him, the upward press of his hips to help him bottom out ㅡ and the handful of breathless seconds as you adjust before you begin to move.

Though he'd been telling the truth about enjoying the view of you on top of him, Ace isn't as accustomed to being the one at your mercy as you ride him, his hands trembling as he grips your hips to help you.

Your rhythm is steady despite the ache already building in your thighs, mesmerized by the way Ace's face contorts with pleasure. You've had the privilege of seeing a thousand expressions cross his face, but these are definitely some of your favorites.

"Pretty boy," you coo as you tug at a nipple, breath hitching at the way his hips buck in response. "You look good underneath me."

And he does ㅡ tanned skin flushed and sweat slick, dark hair splayed beneath him, Ace is living art, down to the kiss swollen quality of his lips. He groans at the praise, head tipping back and giving you prime space to suck a mark into the column of his throat.

"Babe," he warns as you move to repeat the motion, the slow drag of your tongue making him hiss a soft curse under his breath. "G-gonna make me cum if you keep biting me like that."

"Doesn't sound like an issue to me," you answer, tone low and sweet in his ears as you shift to kiss over his pulse point. "Go ahead, my pretty boy. Wanna see you fall apart for me."

He chokes at your words, strained whimper as the tension pulls tight in his lower stomach before it snaps and he tugs at you, drags you down tight against him as he cums. You aren't far behind him, the added stimulation making him groan at the feeling of you tightening and adding to the sticky mess between the two of you.

You stretch out above him as your muscles give out, listening to the rapid tempo of his heartbeat, a synchronous match for your own. "Gonna have to let you wear my hat more often," he rasps finally from where he's treading the post-sex haze, and you laugh softly.

"Liked it that much, huh?"

"Yeah," he answers, grinning as he kisses your shoulder. "I did."

[bonafideyapper]

THE TRADER'S DAUGHTER - cooper "the ghoul" howard x female!oc (part 4)

*THIS IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF PART 3** (guess what? I LIED when I said it would be past/present/past/present, enjoy whatever this is.)

Warnings: language, badly written smut, mentions of body hair (has to be a normal occurence in fallout bc theres no razors out there????), dbf!cooper, P in V sex, unprotected sex, ghoul fucking, unprotected irradiated creampie, Rad Away as birth control, as always not proofread

a/n: Alright! I’m not fully happy with this, but I DID promise a part 4 tonight so here she is in all her glory. Still bad at writing smut, deal with it. (Even tho I’m bad at writing it this is basically just smut with like, small plot points strewn about.)

Word count: 2.1k

previous part - masterlist

Previously, on The Trader's Daughter...

“Ohh, ya want me to touch ya, huh?” Cooper spoke in a hushed tone so as to not alert to her father in the next room what was about to happen. “What happened to you’re too young for me?” He squeezed her thigh with a strong grip, a wide grin coming to his face as he coaxed her thighs open. 

“Coop, I-” Daisy breathlessly whispered, overwhelmed by the man and his voice and his hands. Lord have mercy, his hands, those hands that she had dreamed about touching her in ways that would make angels cry. The hands that had strangled a man to death for threatening her. 

“I want you to touch me.”

“Well now darlin’, I can touch you however you want me to. But this ain’t gonna be no casual fuck. If I touch you now, you’re a marked woman.” Cooper whispered against the shell of Daisy’s ear, his scarred hand scooting closer to where she craved him most. He could tell she was flustered, and he loved that even after years of being hardened by the wasteland, he still had that panty-dropping effect on members of the fairer sex. 

“You sure you want an old man like me to irradiate that pretty little body of yours, flower?” Cooper kept his voice low, fully aware of his friend snoring less than ten feet away. 

Daisy’s mouth was dry and she would kill for some water. Somehow she managed to whisper back, “I’ve been on the surface a long time too, Cooper. I can handle a little rad poisoning. Got a good supply of Rad Away stashed away.” 

Cooper ran his tongue over his cracked lips, intrigued by the spice coming from the sweet little lady falling apart and he hadn’t even started to touch her yet. “Yeah? Sounds like you’ve been waitin’ a while for a moment like this, sugar. Hell, if I’d’ve known you’d been waitin’ for me this long I would’ve made my way back to you sooner. Could’a gave you another pretty little gift.” His hand reached for her necklace, letting his large calloused digits linger around the little white pearl. He could feel the breath trapped in her chest and swore he could hear the thumping of her heart trapped behind her ribs.

A decade of yearning had led her here, and Daisy was latching on. “Can I um, can I tell you something, Coop?” She felt like a teenage girl again as she looked up at the ghoul inching closer and closer to her, until his knee was slotted between the two of hers. If her father were to walk out now, they could probably play off the position as platonic, as an old friend leaning closer to get a good look at someone they hadn’t seen in years. A wave of nerves rushed over her as she watched him nod, calming herself as she thought about how he was much less of an intimidating figure without that old cowboy hat perched on top of his head. 

“You’re like, the guy I modeled my dream man after-” Daisy froze when she heard a shift to her father’s snoring pattern, bringing her awareness back to her surroundings. Cooper swiftly grabbed her chin to force her attention on him. “Uh uh, attention back on me, sweetheart. It’s just us. Now, you were sayin’ about how I was your perfect man?” As he spoke, his hand crept closer to the belt still fastened around her waist, taking his time and being disrespectful in his slow movements to pop her pants open. With each point the woman listed about how he was the model, he dipped one more finger down the front of her pants. 

“W-Well yeah, you’ve always been a very honorable man. Always take care of the people close to you.” Daisy tried to keep the conversation as casual as she could but still put up no fight as his fingers dipped below her waistband. She cautiously scooted herself down in the chair to widen her legs for him, blushing when he clicked his teeth, “That’s a good girl. You gonna keep bein’ a good girl for me, flower? Keep tellin’ me ‘bout myself.” Cooper smirked at her, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach.

Daisy swiped her tongue over her lips, desperate for some kind of moisture in her mouth. She’d gladly accept it if he spit in her mouth, and actually, she wanted it. She’d do anything for him, especially if it would keep his hand sinking further down. “I think that you’re a good protector, a great shot back in the day. I’d totally outshoot you now.” She had to throw in a little jab of attitude towards him, wanting to see where it’d get her. “Like the way you talk, always callin’ me some kind o’ pretty-” 

Cooper could’ve lost it right then and there when his fingers slipped through the soft curly bush coating her puffy lips, “Look at that, sweet girl, you’re soaked and I ain’t even really touched you yet.”  He bragged, letting his finger tap against her clit a few times to watch her twitch, “And princess, as much as I wanna hear that sweet voice of yours scream my name, gonna need you to be quiet for me. Think you can do that?” He whispered to her as he sunk two thick digits into her dripping hole, shoving the same fingers on his other hand into her mouth to silence her when her jaw went slack. “Bite down if you need to; I won’t mind.” 

Daisy was on cloud nine, needing to grip the table to hold herself together. She couldn’t tell if this was really happening, not until she felt his weathered fingers brushing against that little spot inside her, building up a tight knot that he was eager to coax from her. She wrapped her pretty little lips around his fingers and then Coop thought he was on cloud nine— he’d get those pretty little lips wrapped around something else soon enough, but right now he was committed to teasing her and making her cum with his fingers. Y’know, had to see if he still got it (he did, he was shocked to find that it took less than five minutes of manipulation for her to gush in his hand with a muffled moan as he clasped his hand over her mouth.) 

Daisy closed her thighs around his hands and tried to let her head tip back, half-lidded eyes staring up at his as he dug his fingers in her mouth and pulled her head up to look at him. She whimpered at the loss of his fingers and watched as he licked them clean, a bright red tinge on her cheeks. 

“Sweeter than any peach I’ve ever tasted, flower.” Cooper ran his finger over her lips gently, letting her taste herself on the digit. She damn near couldn’t see straight and here he was, still egging her on. “Now, princess, think you can stay quiet for me?” 

Any kind of strong-woman act that Daisy had created for herself in her lifetime had dissolved in an instant, turning to putty in his hands and feeling like she was a virgin all over again as she begged him to fuck her. “Please, Cooper, please- I’ll be quiet, I promise. Please, please-” She whispered, keeping her eyes locked on his to show she was being serious. “We can go downstairs, won’t have to worry about dad.” 

Cooper pushed himself back from her and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take. “Come on then, pretty girl.” Daisy was quick to stand on her shaky legs, not seeming to care about the wet spot that had formed between her legs. She grabbed onto his hand and essentially dragged him down the stairs, pretty eager for a grown woman. Hey, again, Cooper reawoken her teenage dream, Daisy is in no way to blame for her actions. Without having to think about his actions, Cooper easily tossed the girl around like a ragdoll. Their bodies combined in a mixture of clashing teeth and lips and limbs blindly grabbing for each other. Daisy slung an arm around his neck to pull his head closer to her, channeling a lifetime of desire behind her kiss. She’d never been kissed like this before, none of the boys she had messed around with during her girlhood had ever touched her the way Cooper had been 

She didn’t have to be told twice, Cooper had barely muttered a “get these off” while pulling at her pants and she had dropped them down around her ankles. She kicked them off and smiled wide when he put his hands on her again, this time to easily lift her up onto the countertop. Daisy locked her legs around his waist and whimpered softly when he broke away from her, already begging for him again, “Coop, please don’t stop yet-” “Aw, darlin’, I’m not stoppin’ shit.” Cooper cracked a sideways smirk, “Not gonna keep you beggin’, either, even though you sound sooo pretty.” he let her dig her hands between them, watching her eagerly take his belt off in the dark backroom of the storefront. He made short work of pushing his pants down, reaching down to grab her thighs and pull her closer to his front.

Daisy helped him out a little by scooting her hips forward, just barely hanging off the side of the counter. She couldn’t help but notice how large his hands were against the flesh of her plump thighs as he grabbed on her, wishing she could see more of him in the dark. She wondered how the years of radiation exposure had affected his dick, but didn’t have to spend long on that thought before he had lined himself up and thrust into her. “Oh fuck-” As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth in a moan, Cooper had that hand slapped over her mouth again.

“Nuh-uh, none of that now, flower. Gonna- fuck- gonna wake up your old man. Don’t want that now, do we?” Cooper whispered against the shell of her ear, barely able to hold himself together now that he was inside her and damn-near feral. He smirked as she nodded against him, her eyes still trained on his. “Good girl.” he whispered as he painstakingly pulled out of her to just the tip, only to slide right back in and bottom out with his hips flush against hers.

Daisy whimpered against his hand and reached up to hold it firmly against her mouth, not wanting to risk not being his good girl. (Also not wanting to risk her dad walking in, but to be honest, she wasn’t thinking much about him when Cooper was between her thighs.) She couldn’t think straight, her mind was completely occupied with himhimhimhimhim. Part of her still felt like this was a dream as she mumbled something against his hand, something along the lines of “don’t hold back.” She figured he could understand her because instead of that painfully slowwww process of teasing her, he started fucking her. And this wasn’t like any of the meaningless fucks she had before, this was with a grown man, a man who had been changed by the immense suffering he had been through before he fell into her life. He was fucking her like his life depended on it and she was drunk on every second. 

Cooper didn’t know how long he’d be able to last with her walls gripping him the way she was, with her pretty brown eyes locked on his the entire time. It was much more intimate than he had intended for this to go, he had wanted it to be a good fuck but not one that would leave her wanting more. He had things he needed to do once he left her in the morning, and he hoped that this would be enough to tide her over until he could come back to his Daisy. 

Unbeknownst to him, she’d be joining him in his next adventure, whether he wanted her to or not. 

“Fuck, darlin’, where do you wan’ me to fin’sh?” Cooper groaned out softly, digging his scarred fingers into the soft skin of her hips, hard enough to leave bruises to remember him by. His words had started to slur together more than usual with that accent of his. Daisy whimpered as she leaned up to press her lips to his, gripping onto the back of his head to keep him close to her, “Told you I got enough Rad Away to stock a Super Duper Mart, where d’ya think I wanted it?” She still had that snippy little attitude to her even after Coop did his best to fuck it out of her (although that hadn’t been the primary goal, it’ll continue to be his goal as long as he continues to fuck her.) 

His smirk lit up his face as he bottomed out in her one last time, his hips faltering a bit as he happily pumped her full of his unfruitful seed. He kept his eyes on her face as he watched her- what, third? orgasm take over her. He had lost count after he made her cum the first time with just his fingers. Gentle in his movements this time around, he pulled out of her slowly, taking a second to lean back and watch the cum leak from between her thighs. A satisfied smirk never leaving his face, “Where do you keep the Rad Away?”

gif credit @thesoldiersminute

divider credit @cafekitsune

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser @fallout-girl219 @imtherain @looneylooomis

(I'm trying to compile my taglist from both accounts, so I hope I didn't forget anyone!)

[beanghostprincess]

Auntie Buggy anon, back again bc you are my soul twin (no romo) and you Get Me

Consider an AU where Buggy comes out relatively early on in life but only really PUBLICALLY transitions later on. She is happy and safe under Roger's wings and so she feels secure enough to ask Crocus questions and look around and talk to Roger, Rayleigh, Shanks - Shanks is the first to know anything. He goes from "wow he's so pretty" to "wow she's so pretty" with barely a hiccup.

The crew is aggressively supportive. Roger especially made damn sure NOBODY would be mean to his daughter ((both bc he's Protective and also bc AAAAAAA HE HAS A DAUGHTER)).

Hormones weren't safe or feasible for her at that age - she was young enough for puberty blockers maybe, but the notion (and supplies) were just Chemicals to her. She could think of far more interesting chemicals to play around with - explosive ones!

Add in her devil fruit and an instinct to split at a prick or slice, she wasn't really good for injections. And she was so wild that the idea of having a routine for medication was laughable. It didn't matter, bc her dad and her crew and her Shanks were there for her, even if some people (cough cough ROGER) got a little too excited when she came out.

(Though in his defense, she DOES look cute in a ballgown. She just didn't need him to buy out the entire boutique. No, really, Captain, stop-!)

When Roger realized the End was here, that he'd done what he Had Wanted To Do, he gave the kids gifts - things for them to carry on with them in lieu of himself. He considered them his children, and so he passed on what he could as smth of an heirloom.

To Shanks, his Hat - his Legacy. Not to be the next Pirate King, not at all, but to live freely, happily, and to embrace the Seas as a sentinel. Shanks was the sky, limitless and without shackles, and Roger would not tie him down to a set path or a pre-written journey. Smth Big was coming, after all, and Shank always loved a good adventure.

To Buggy, his Initial - she was less inclined to battles than Shanks, though by no means was she weak. No, Buggy would do better nurturing the next generation, putting her mind to use and plotting the course to her own treasures. She was the one who he could see as the driving force, the energy, the charisma, the catalyst to the New Beginning. She was a D. in all but blood (and maybe even then that can be argued - their blood types were compatible, and he had definitely donated some to her before.) Where Shanks was the sky, she was the sea - bold, unapologetic, merciful and cruel, dynamic and unflinching even as it carried so many currents, too many to count. But just as the waves calmed when held in hand, she too benefited from security. She would be safe, and she would be his, a last little claim for his baby bug.

((And maybe, Roger, knowing how much she FEELS everything, knew she would love with all she had. Buggy loves love, even if it scares her. He would never be able to clip on her veil or call her a beautiful bride or walk her down an aisle or make sure the man/woman/whoever (or more) she married would be good enough for her. He wouldn't BE there, but he could give her this, a piece of him, his past, his roots, to help her grow in the future, to connect them. It was the best he could do in that moment))

So Buggy comes out early on in her life.

After Roger's execution, the Marines and the press make assumptions when she makes waves, calling her a man; Shanks, Rayleigh, Crocus, anyone who KNEW, they are furious but won't out her, not without her permission - something impossible to get.

So when Buggy eventually DOES come out, even years upon years later, it is to knowing smiles, Seas apart and still so painfully fond.

((And if she ever gets married, Rayleigh may show up with a familiar sash, decades old but lovingly protected. It's worn, soft, and there are spits where the color has been bleached by the sun. Somehow it even still smells faintly of a familiar brand of rum, an old recipe no longer being made, sea salt and caramel and something almost like ozone, an imprint of Haki so familiar it brings tears to blue eyes. And Rayleigh smiles, nods to her silent question.

Roger left many things for his children, but some were for special occasions. Who better to trust with such things than his first mate?))

I have so many emotions about Buggy in GENERAL and the Rogers and trans Buggy and just aaaaaaaaaaaa too many feelingsssss

You are my soul twin too bestie <3 You get me !!

Using the same reasoning I use for transfem Sanji, fem Buggy makes sense because Roger has SO much girldad energy. He'd be so so supportive. Like, extremely. All the crew would, but he'd just be so proud of his girl and he has no idea how to talk to or treat women but he's excited anyway. And Shanks literally just changes pronouns in his head so damn easily lmfao he just sees Buggy as Buggy he doesn't care if she's a girl or not or whatever, what matters to him is that she's happy. And if she's a girl, to him she's the prettiest girl in the world and he's ready to fight whoever says otherwise.

You didn't need to make the initial thing so damn poetic, do you want me to start crying??? It's so-- Okay. Shut up. It's just too beautiful because people often portray Roger as this guy who ignored Buggy and preferred Shanks when he quite obviously loved both a lot and,, And I am sobbing. Roger not being able to see her getting married but Rayleigh showing up-- I am inside your walls. Stop- I- Okay. I don't want to make this about Shuggy but I am making it about Shuggy and saying that Shanks would be so damn emotional marrying Buggy. Like, he'd see her in a dress and he'd just start sobbing mid-wedding and Buggy would be so tired of him because he's pausing the whole thing only to cry. Fucking sap (she loves him a lot).

The Roger Pirates would be so protective of their girl because, well, that's basically their only girl, lmfao. If somebody dares to disrespect her, they're probably ending up dead or very very wounded. Good luck trying to make fun of her.

I also can't stop thinking about Buggy growing up surrounded by men and feeling a bit too much left out, but then Toki shows up (thanks Oden, we love you bestie), and that kind of changes Buggy's life completely? Trying to think about this before she comes out to the rest of the crew and she's just starting to think about gender and what it means to her. And Toki is right there, being all feminine and gorgeous but strong and extremely smart and Buggy admires her a lot. And she starts spending a lot of time around her and she helps her so much to understand herself,,, Sobbing.

[lewmagoo]

little lambs and big, bad cowboys | rhett abbott

description: in which you find yourself entirely at his mercy

warnings: STRICTLY 18+, consensual non-consent, corruption kink, kind of predator/prey, fingering, unprotected piv sex, choking, overstimulation, daddy kink, light bondage, squirting, size kink, creampie, subspace, aftercare bc it's important, i think that's everything lol

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader (fem pronouns used)

notes: this was so much fun to write. i haven't written much cnc so bear with me here. if you can't handle this sort of thing, don't feel obligated to read! be considerate of your own limits and well-being first and foremost

Your hands were trembling. 

The energy thrumming through you had you on edge, buzzing with excitement. You kept glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes until closing time. 

When the clock struck 5, you would close your quaint little bookshop and eagerly await your husband’s arrival. Except, he was not your husband in this scenario. No, he was simply Rhett Abbott to you, a man whom you’d only encountered a few times.

Together, you had planned out the entire situation. He would walk into your shop right at closing time, under the pretense of finding a specific book. Innocent enough, but what would follow was far from innocent. In fact, it was utterly filthy, and just the thought of it made you clench your thighs together beneath the flowy sundress you wore.

It was his favorite dress of yours, which was specifically why you’d donned it that day. The hem brushed loosely against your mid-thigh, and the neckline plunged only just so, enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of your chest. Modest enough that no one else would really bat an eye, but Rhett would be drawn to it like a fly to honey.

It was ironic, really. In this scenario, you were behaving like the one he’d lured into his sticky, sweet trap, when in reality, it was you who had him wrapped around your finger, to the point where he would willingly try something like this.

You had discussed it in depth before this moment. It was not something you took lightly. You needed Rhett to be on the same page as you, and you took the time to set up very clear boundaries. You could stop at any time. All that needed to be uttered was a single safe word from either of you and the scene would be over instantaneously. 

Rhett’s willingness to participate in this stemmed from his deep trust in you, and yours in him. You both knew you would never do anything to hurt the other, at least not without explicit consent. That was why it was so easy for him to agree to this. He’d never do such a thing with anyone else. Only you, because you made him feel comfortable enough to express his desires and kinks without fear of judgment. 

He made you feel the same, which was why you’d brought it up to him in the first place. And that brought you to the present moment, where you excitedly awaited his arrival through the front door. Your eyes continuously flickered to the clock on the wall, ticking away. Had time started passing slower than normal? It sure felt like it. 

You busied yourself with monotonous tasks. Wiping down the counter. Clearing out the cash register for the night. Tidying up the book display shelves. And finally, at 5:01 p.m., Rhett Abbott walked through the door of your bookshop.

You caught his gaze, and he offered you one of those crooked smiles of his that made you weak in the knees. Out of respect, he took his hat off of his head. “Evenin’, miss. Just need to pick up a book.”

“I-I’m afraid we’re closed, Mister Abbott,” you stammered, already slipping into the part of the timid church mouse you’d pledged to play. 

“Oh I ain’t gon’ be more than a few minutes, I promise. I would’ve come earlier but I was busy.”

“Okay. Just please make it quick, I really should be getting home soon.”

He raised a brow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Why? Your daddy have you on a curfew?”

“Something like that,” came your whisper.

He gave a single nod, and turned to peruse down the aisles. But you didn’t miss the way he turned and locked the door as he did. It made your heart flip in your chest, and your breath catch in your throat. 

While he searched for whatever book he was looking for, you made your way back to the counter, clasping your hands together when you realized how much they shook. You felt silly, being as giddy as a schoolgirl, but you couldn’t help it. That was the effect Rhett had on you. Always had been.

A few moments later, he appeared at the counter, and his presence made you jump, because you hadn’t even heard him come up. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No ma’am, I didn’t.”

“Do you know the title or author? I could always look it up for you.”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I’m lookin’ for the Encyclopedia of Knots and Ropework.”

Of course he was. Even outside of this roleplay, it was a fitting book for him to be interested in. He was always trying to improve his rope techniques, not only because it was useful for day-to-day, but also because it was useful in the confines of your bedroom.

He held your gaze, his eyes intense and sharp. Had they gotten even bluer, somehow? You didn’t miss how those same eyes shamelessly flickered down to glance at your chest. They widened slightly when he realized what necklace you were wearing. Delicate gold, words small enough that one might not realize what they said unless they looked closely. Daddy’s Girl.

Rhett had gotten it for you as a joke, because you called him daddy within your dynamic. But it had quickly become a turn-on for both of you whenever you wore it. Like now, for instance. He swallowed as his eyes shifted back up to yours. You didn’t miss the bob of his Adam’s apple as he did so.

“Actually, I think I have that book in the back,” you managed to speak up. You were warm with need for him already and you’d barely even begun. “If you’ll just wait right here.”

You turned on your heel, stepping into the back storage room to search for his requested book. Although you’d instructed him to wait outside the room, he followed you anyway, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you. 

You knew he was there, so you purposely moved so your dress rode up, exposing your bare ass beneath it. Rhett gritted his teath at the sight, unable to tear his eyes away. When you bent down again, he caught a glimpse of your pussy, and he couldn’t bite back the groan that rumbled in his chest.

You gasped, whirling around. “M-Mister Abbott, you shouldn’t be back here,” you squeaked.

He smirked, the blue of his eyes darker now. “Sorry, I got impatient. But I couldn’t help but admire how pretty you look. All sweet an’ innocent, like a little lamb.”

“Oh…th-thank you?”

Rhett stepped forward, boots heavy on the floor. “Mm,” he hummed. Another step closer. Instinctively, you stepped back, but he kept coming, until your back hit one of the bookshelves. 

You gasped, eyes widening as you reached back and touched the cool wood. “Mister Abbott, sir, what are you doing?” But you knew full well what he was doing.

“Admirin’ you up close.” He reached a hand up, running his fingers over the cool metal of your necklace. “This little necklace says you’re daddy’s girl. That what you are? You his innocent little girl?”

You shuddered as he nudged a thigh between your legs. “Yes sir.”

“Huh,” he remarked, hand moving to play with the strap of your dress. “It’d be a shame if someone were to come along and ruin his pretty little girl. There’s a lot of bad men out there, y’know.” And I’m one of them.

“I-I don’t think—”

“Shh,” he shushed, pushing his jean-clad thigh further against you. You could feel the rough denim against your cunt. Surely your pooling desire would soak through the fabric. 

The hand that had been playing with your necklace wandered down, skilled fingers toying with the little bow at the neckline of your dress. You watched, chest heaving slightly as he pulled the tie, and the top part of your dress came down, revealing your breasts. 

You whimpered, but quickly remembered you were meant to remain in character, so you lifted your arm to cover your chest. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” you whispered. 

A positively Cheshire grin spread across his face, and you felt very much like a poor, innocent mouse in the clutches of a cat who liked to play with his food before devouring it. “Why not? Nobody’s going to walk in. I locked the front door. So we can do anythin’ you want, sugar.”

Warm fingers brushed over hardening nipples, and you took in a breath, head falling back against the shelf behind you. “N-no one’s ever touched me there before,” came your whimpered confession. 

Rhett made a sound deep in his throat, and he began to lightly pinch and tug at those buds. In the meantime, your hips involuntarily moved against his thigh. He could feel your arousal soaking through, and he growled. 

He was going to corrupt you, this sweet, unassuming lamb that trembled under his touch. 

“I can touch you other places, too,” he lulled, his face so close to yours your noses brushed. A large hand fell from your chest, soon resting over your stomach. Then, he trailed further down, until his fingers curled around the hem of your dress and he lifted it up to reveal your nakedness underneath.

You let out a gasp of surprise and pulled the fabric from his hands. “Mister Abbott!” You scolded.

“Just one little peek, darlin’. It won’t hurt anything.” 

But when he lifted your dress again, you were emboldened, and again, you snatched it out of his grasp. He raised a brow at that, and you jutted your chin out in defiance. 

“Stupid girl.” Then, he took both of your arms in his hold and forced you to turn, your back pressed to his chest as he wrestled you down across the desk beside you. You put up a bit of a fight, but certainly not enough to hurt him or slow him down in any way. He handled you in a great feat of strength, and it sent a jolt of desire through you.

Once he had you pressed into the oak, he yanked your dress up to expose your bare ass. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he pressed his weight into you with a grunt. “Hold fuckin’ still.”

“But sir, I-”

Then, he reached around, clamping his hand over your mouth. “Shut your mouth ‘fore I shut it for you.”

Once he was satisfied with your silence, he stepped back, hands gripping your ass so he could fully admire your glistening pussy. His fingers parted your folds, and he hummed, enjoying the view. “S’ pretty. Nobody’s ever touched you like this before, have they?”

“N-no sir. You shouldn’t be touching me there, either.”

Suddenly, he slotted his middle finger into you, and you gasped. Moments later, he added his ring finger to the mix, long digits easily locating that spot inside you that made stars glimmer behind your eyelids. 

You lost yourself for a moment, moaning lowly at the feeling. He knew exactly how to move those fingers to draw the most salacious sounds from you. 

But you remembered you were supposed to be in character. So you reacted like the damsel in distress you were playing. “Mister Abbott, please. This isn’t right. If my daddy finds out about this, he’ll—”

“He’ll what, sweetheart? He’ll beat me to death?” He leaned in close, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “You ain’t escaping me, lamb. ‘M gonna have my way with you whether you like it or not.”

His words sent you clenching around his fingers, and he hummed in satisfaction, wicked smile tugging at his mouth. “You like the thought of that, don’t ya? The big, bad cowboy takin’ what he wants?”

“No sir!” You cried. But you did. You loved the idea. Loved that Rhett had agreed to do this with you. 

“The way your pussy’s squeezin’ my fingers tells me otherwise.” He fucked those same fingers into you harder, faster. The sound of your growing wetness was obscene, and it went straight to his cock. 

When you squirmed again, he pressed his weight into you, inhibiting you from moving, from escaping. The fact that you couldn’t see what he was doing behind you made it all the more erotic. You didn’t know what to expect and it sent a thrill through you. 

But he paused for a moment, and suddenly, a warm, gentle hand was pressed against your spine. “Color?” He asked, in a tone that could only be described as your Rhett. 

“Green,” you sighed. His fingers were still inside you and you were in heaven. 

A soft kiss to your shoulder blade, and then it was back to business. Those fingers inside you curled upwards, and you whined, shivering. It was pathetic, really, the way you were literally dripping around those thick digits.

All too soon, he slipped them out of you, and all at once, those same fingers were tapping at your lips. “Clean up your mess,” he gritted.

“No,” you refused, turning your head away. 

He grunted, hauling you up and turning you around. With his clean hand, he gripped your jaw. “I said, clean up your fuckin’ mess, girl.” You let him wrench your jaw open, and he shoved his glistening fingers past your lips, allowing you to taste yourself. 

Once he was satisfied, he removed his fingers from your mouth, proceeding to smear the mix of your cum and spit all over your lips. The gesture almost made you come right then and there. 

Then he kissed you, hand holding the back of your neck, blunt fingernails digging into your skin. When you parted, he spoke again. “Lay down on the desk.”

You almost obeyed immediately, but a positively delicious thought came to mind. Without warning, you dropped your weight quickly, and it surprised him enough to loosen his grasp on you as you went down. As soon as he did, you scrambled to your feet and rushed out of the room. 

Rhett grunted in surprise, and his heavy footfalls could be heard behind you. But you were faster than he was, and you ran up and down a few aisles of bookshelves until you stopped in the middle of one, dead silent as you listened for him. But suddenly, the surrounding area was dead silent, save for your rushed breathing.

It gave you pause. Had he stopped following you? 

Just as you thought you were safe, the creaking of a floorboard got your attention, and you whirled around, just in time to see your cowboy stalking toward you. 

You tried to slip away, but he already had you, hand shooting out to catch you. He was much, much stronger, thanks to upper body strength that was unmatched. Blame it on riding all those bulls and hauling heavy bales of hay. 

“No!” You cried as he wrestled you down to the hardwood. You struggled in his hold and he let out a growl. 

The clink of his belt buckle drew your attention, and he quickly pulled it from its loops, binding your wrists together behind your back. “Woulda brought my fuckin’ rope if I knew you were gon’ try to get away.” He cinched the belt and made sure it would hold. But a moment later, his tone softened. “That ain’t too tight, is it?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just right.”

So, back into character he slipped. 

You heard the telltale sign of him unzipping his jeans, shoving the rough denim down his thighs. Work roughened fingers were at your slick opening again, and when they brushed over your clit, you jumped. 

“Feels good, huh?”

“No.” Yes. 

“Keep lyin’ to me, girl. I’ll have you creaming all over my cock soon enough.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, pushing your ass up toward him. Behind you, he shoved his jeans down far enough to free his hardness, stroking it firmly in his hand before he shoved your legs apart and pulled your hips back. 

“I don’t know if it’ll e’en fit inside you. Wonder if you’ll be able to take the whole thing.”

The plush, pink head was dragged through your dripping wetness, and you whined at the feeling of it catching on your entrance but never quite slipping inside. 

Feebly, you continued your facade, though you were moments away from throwing in the towel and begging your husband to fuck you. “W-we can’t,” you whimpered. “Please, Mister Abbott.”

He lowered himself so his mouth was against your ear again. He seemed so big, hulking above you, and it made you feel helpless in the most thrilling way imaginable. “What? Did’ya really think you were gonna save yourself for someone special? Soon as I fuck you, this pussy belongs to me. You’ll be ruined for any other man.”

“Don’t.” But please, do.

Again, the head of his cock slid over you. You were so wet it was almost embarrassing, and Rhett admired the way you glistened. He could clearly see that this was turning you on to no end. He was in the same boat. He hadn’t realized just how much he would get off on this, but he was enjoying every minute of it. It felt so forbidden, so naughty. And it was thrilling. 

He knew he couldn’t handle teasing you any longer. So, without warning, he pushed his hips forward and filled you in one thrust. The sudden intrusion surprised you, and you cried out, jolting against the floor. 

He was so fucking big, and from this angle, he somehow felt even bigger. His cock was thick, so the stretch was almost uncomfortable, but it felt so good all at once. However, you knew how much he loved making you feel small, so you decided to get him going. 

“I-it barely fits. S’too big,” you squeaked. 

He groaned deep within his chest, jaw going slack. “And you’re gon’ lay there and take every inch of me, lamb.”

He shunted his hips forward again, and you whined, eyes drifting shut. Feebly, you put up a bit of a struggle, trying half-heartedly to pull yourself out of his grasp. But he shoved you back in place. “Fuckin’ take it.”

“No! Get off me!”

A rough hand came up to cover your mouth, and again, he thrust into you, rough and deep. He built a steady rhythm, and it wasn’t long before you were gasping and moaning pathetically against his hand at the feeling. You weren’t sure that you even had it in you to fight against him anymore. It felt too good to pretend you didn’t like it.

Above you, he grunted deeply, and the way he fucked you was almost animalistic. He was heavy against you, overcoming your every sense. 

You could feel him. The bump of his cock against your spongey walls. The roughness of his jeans against the backs of your thighs. The softness of the flannel he wore against your back. You could smell him. That simple cologne he always wore. That heady, natural scent that could only be described as Rhett. And you could hear him. Short groans and sighs. Barely contained growls when you clenched around him. Like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

He’d finally lowered his hand from your mouth, pressing his palm against the floor to brace himself. It allowed your wild, unbridled moans to spill forth, filling the entirety of your little bookstore. If you got any louder, surely a passerby outside would be able to hear. But neither of you cared. 

Suddenly, his hips slowed, and you felt his hands on your own. “Wanna watch your face while I have my way with you,” he rasped before he undid the belt around your hands, tossing the leather aside. He soothed your wrists with his fingers before he pulled back, leaving you empty.

You whined, but he shushed you as he turned you over onto your back. You were thrumming with the warmth of desire, so much so that it took everything in you to keep up your act as you spoke again. “Mister Abbott, p-please just let me go.” But don’t. Don’t you ever let me go.

When your hands weakly pushed at his chest, he grabbed them, pressing them above your head. His face was hard set in a scowl. He looked so angry, so dominating, and it made you shiver. But as if a switch was flipped, he softened, free hand coming up to brush over your quivering bottom lip. 

“What’s your color, chickadee?”

You hummed. “It’s green. Neon fucking green.”

He couldn’t help but grin at that. “Glad to hear.”

Then the switch was flipped again, and his entire demeanor changed. His jaw was hard-set, brow furrowed. “Don’t e’en bother trying to fight it. You know you want it,” he taunted, and you felt the heat of his cock against you again.

He slipped into you for a second time with ease, pulling your legs around his hips so he could go even deeper. He watched the place where your bodies met, enamored with the way you took all of him. It set something off within him, and he picked up the pace, jarring your entire being as he fucked you.

Then he brought his hand between your thighs, fingers rubbing against your buzzing gathering of nerve endings. Then, he released the hands he held above your head, and wrapped that hand around your throat. 

He knew the exact amount of pressure to apply. His fingertips pressed firmly against either side of your neck, slowing the blood flow and making your head spin. That’s when you lost yourself. Rhett hadn’t been expecting it to happen so soon, but he could clearly see it in the way your eyes rolled back and your body arched off the floor. 

Moments like these made you feel like you were having an out-of-body experience. It was as if you were hovering over yourself, watching the scene unfold. 

It was also a surefire way to make you come. Which, in the heat of the moment, Rhett had forgotten about. You let out a strangled cry, and suddenly you were gasping out, “c-coming! Coming! Daddy, I’m coming!”

That was it for you. Your reluctant facade was gone. The character of the innocent little lamb, as Rhett would say, was forgotten. Now you didn’t even care. You just wanted him to keep going. Wanted him to fuck you until you were incoherent. 

And as you came, your husband watched in awe. Your mouth parted in a silent scream, your eyes locked with his, and you convulsed beneath him. Your cunt tightened around him like a vice, and he let out a determined growl. He wasn’t about to fall apart this early on. 

Instead, he focused on you. As you came down from your unexpected high, he eased his hand off your throat, mindful that you would be a bit dizzy from the rush of blood. 

He’d stopped moving, instead lowering his weight to rest gently on top of you. His lips brushed against your own. “You okay, sweet thing?”

Your eyes, still glossy and unfocused, flickered up to his. “Y-yeah. That was…I didn’t mean to come that fast.” You might’ve been embarrassed, but Rhett gave you no reason to be.

He smiled. “S’okay. I ain’t finished with you yet, anyway.”

Then his lips were on yours in a dizzying kiss, and he slowly built his rhythm back as he rolled his hips into yours. You whined into his mouth, hands fumbling for purchase at his shoulders. All muscle and sinew, strong from hard labor.

He wrapped your legs around him, bringing him impossibly closer. With each press into you, you could feel the coarseness of the neatly kept hair that gathered at the base of his cock, brushing against your oversensitive clit. 

When you caught his gaze, he looked at you in amusement. “Where’d all that fight go, hm? Few minutes ago you were beggin’ me to stop. Now you’re taking it like a good girl should. Decide you like it all of a sudden?”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. 

But you couldn’t voice an answer. Your words died in your throat each time he fucked into you. He pulled up to shove your legs up further, knees toward your chest, which gave him a better angle, hitting it impossibly deeper. 

You let out an unabashed wail at the feeling, and Rhett grunted at the feeling if your desire quite literally dripping from you, down the shaft of his cock, and further. 

The sound as he pushed into you was obscene. A filthy, wet squelch that might’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t thrumming with need. 

It only spurred your husband on. He fucked you harder, faster. His fingers applied such delicious pressure on your clit. His mouth nipped at your breasts, tugging on pert nipples. And it wasn’t long before you were catapulting into him, coming unraveled around his dick all over again. 

He watched you, amazed at just how sensitive you were. “Shit, this really got you going, huh?” He breathlessly remarked after you’d come down. 

You smiled, a little dumbly. “Mm,” you squeaked. 

Rhett took a steadying breath, willing himself to last just a little longer. “What do ya need, chickadee? You wanna keep playing? Or do you just need me?”

“N-need you, Daddy. Just you,” came your slurred response. 

He nuzzled into you, nose bumping against yours. “Yeah? Already goin’ small on me?”

But you couldn’t answer. He could tell, though. Your eyes were glassy, almost tearful, and you were pawing at him like a little kitten. So he soothed you, kissing you slowly, tongue delving into your mouth, which you sucked on gently. 

He smiled against your mouth as he broke away. “Here, suck on this instead of my tongue,” he urged, sliding his thumb into your mouth, which you happily accepted, suckling greedily. 

He picked up his pace again, sinking back into your impossibly slick cunt. He was considerably more gentle than he had been. Gone was the rough, mean cowboy who held you down and told you to take it. 

Instead, he was replaced by your tender husband, so attentive to you when you were like this. He always knew how to get you to this state. A small and pliant state of mind, where you’d do anything he asked of you, because you wanted to please him so badly. Wanted to be good for him. 

It hadn’t started out this way. Getting to this point in your dynamic has been a journey. Rhett had struggled with assuming a role of dominance. Not because it didn’t interest him, but because he was afraid. Afraid he couldn’t be what you needed. But you’d worked through those insecurities together as time passed. Now, you shared a healthy relationship and a balanced dominant and submissive dynamic. 

It made you feel safe enough to be like this with him. Vulnerable. Emotional. Raw. 

It all shifted then. There, in the middle of your little book store, sprawled out on the hardwood floor, the desperate, intense fuck melted away into lovemaking. 

Rhett stayed close to you, keeping his movements predictable so you wouldn’t spiral. The feeling of him inside you, filling you in the way that only he could, sent tears springing to your eyes. 

He kissed you again, and whispered words of encouragement. “Takin’ me so well.”

You held tightly to him, arms around his neck, keening with each push and pull of his heavy cock within you. You could feel him pulse and spasm, feel the fullness of his balls pressing into you. God, you wanted all he had to give. Wanted him to spill into you, to leave you full of his cum. 

But you couldn’t find the words to beg for it. All that came out were pathetic whimpers and incoherent babbles. He gave you his fingers to suck on again, pacifying you. 

“Gon’ give you what you want, chickadee. Promise.” He knew what you were whining for. And he was so close. Especially when you clenched around him the way you were, your sensitive walls fluttering in anticipation of another orgasm that would soon wash over you. 

The heat of eroticism surrounded you both, and it felt like the room was engulfed in flames, stoked by the intensity of your oneness. 

You let him take you, let him use your body to chase his own pleasure. And in the midst of it all, your hypersensitive body plummeted over that edge again, soaking him with your release as you wailed brokenly around his fingers, a muffled “Daddy!” bubbling from your hoarse throat. 

And Rhett couldn’t handle it any longer. Buzzing electricity crackled at the base of his spine, as if he’d just been struck by a bolt of white hot lightning. 

His jaw fell slack, and his head dropped to the crook of your shoulder. You moaned, sobbed, pleaded with him to give it all to you. And he did. 

He came with a raw, gravelly moan, hips stilling slightly as he pumped his seed into the very center of your being. You took all he had to give, your hands tangled in his dark locks as he trembled against you. 

A few more pulses of his cock within you and his rapture came to an end. His chest heaved against yours as he caught his breath, and a moment later, he lifted his head to fully look at you. 

“You okay?” He asked, voice wrecked. 

“Mhm,” was all you could muster. Tears were gathering on your lash line, and before you knew it, they were trailing down the sides of your face. 

His face softened with concern. “Oh, sweet thing.”

“‘m okay, Daddy,” you squeaked, “j-just felt really good.”

Carefully, Rhett slid out of you, leaving your aching walls empty. You made a sound of protest, but he shushed you, moving to sit with his back against the bookshelves, and helping you settle against him. 

You ended up straddling him, your face tucked into the curve of his neck, your chest pressed to his. You needed this, the intimate closeness after such an intense scenario. 

Rhett’s hand ghosted along your back, grounding you as his fingertips drew patterns. “Did so good for me,” he praised. 

But after a moment, you let out a distressed whimper. “Making a mess,” you despaired as you glanced down, realizing his cum had seeped out of you and onto his thigh. 

He shook his head, guiding your face to look at him. “It’s okay. I brought some stuff to clean up with. Let’s go get it.” He knew you couldn’t bear to be separated from him, and certainly not here, out of the comfort and familiarity of your own home. 

So he helped you stand, pausing only to yank his jeans back up, leaving the top undone. He guided you to the back room, despite the fact that you were walking on the legs of a newborn fawn. 

He helped you take a seat on a spare chair before he began rifling through a bag you hadn’t even realized he’d brought in. Soon enough, he retrieved a pack of gentle wipes. 

Moments later, your legs were parted as he tenderly wiped you clean. He could see how swollen your delicate folds were, so he was as gentle as could be. 

Once he was finished, he grabbed a folded blanket from the bag and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Gon’ get you home in a minute so I can take care of you proper,” he assured you with a squeeze to your thigh. 

You hummed sleepily, watching as he went about gathering everything. He knelt to put your shoes back on your feet, which had been lost in the scuffle, mysteriously. 

Then, he helped you stand and smoothed your dress, adjusting it so you were covered again. The entire time, you were hardly present, fading in and out of a blissful state, allowing your husband to care for you. 

He finished closing up shop for you so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, and then, he led you out to his truck, which he’d parked around back to avoid prying eyes. Sometime during your tryst, the sky had gone dark, and night had fallen. 

Once he had you situated in the passenger side, he came over to his own side, climbing in beside you. Immediately, you scooted across the bench, needing to be closer to him. 

He wrapped an arm around you and kept it there as he drove. You let your eyes drift shut, comfortable and safe, trusting that he’d get you to your distination. 

And he did. He pulled into your driveway, and eased you out of the truck’s cab, guiding you across the front of your property and into the house. 

He looked after you for the rest of the evening. Getting you ready for bed, making you a quick dinner, giving you water so you wouldn’t become dehydrated. And you let him, because it gave you such comfort to be cared for by him. 

By the time you were in bed that night, you were feeling a little more grounded, and able to speak. 

“Thank you,” you said as he climbed into bed beside you. “For taking care of me. For acting out that fantasy with me.”

Rhett’s mouth quirked into a smile, and he lifted one brawny hand to cup your cheek. “‘course. Had a lot of fun with it. More than I was expecting.”

It was your turn to smile. “Me too. I really liked feeling all helpless under you like that. Kind of embarrassing how much it turned me on.”

But he shook his head. “Nothin’ to be embarrassed about. We both enjoyed ourselves, that’s what matters.” He leaned in to kiss you, and you melted into his warmth. 

“So this means we’re definitely trying this again?” You asked as you broke apart, resting your head on his bare chest. 

“Mhm,” he eagerly hummed. “And again. And again.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

He shifted to kiss the top of your head. “I ain’t done corrupting my sweet little lamb yet.”

“Well, she’s all yours for the taking, whenever you want.”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

-

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[zablife]

The Swimming Lesson

Finn Shelby x Adeline (OC)

Summary: Adeline makes a terrible mistake when she underestimates the vengeful nature of the youngest Shelby brother.

Author's Note: A lovely anon requested a dark!Finn fic. I included the John love triangle bc it added motivation. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: dark fic 💀, drinking, misogyny, murder

“Finn, say something,” Adeline urged her friend, the confession of a budding relationship with his brother John still hanging in the air between them.

Attempting to forget the refusal of his kiss, Finn stopped pacing along the bank of the pond as an irresistible notion came to him. “Will you go for a swim with me?” he asked.

Adeline paused, “So, you’re not upset about John?”

Finn shook his head as he proclaimed, “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. I’d like to have some fun with you instead.”

Adeline held her breath as she felt him take her hand in his, wanting to believe he was happy for her. However, something cried out within her at the rough grasp of Finn’s touch, the distant look in his eyes which had turned dark as obsidian glass. “You want to go in there?” she asked carefully, raising one eyebrow in a look of uncertainty.

“Why not? Are you afraid?” Finn taunted with a mischievous grin.

She peered down into the cold, murky water and gulped. “You know I can’t swim."

“You going to let that stop you when you have me with you?” he urged. Placing a hand to her lower back, he pushed her closer to the uninviting water.

“I suppose a quick dip couldn’t hurt,” she conceded as she removed her shoes.

“That’s my girl,” Finn praised, relishing the sound of it on his tongue. He watched with lecherous delight as she stripped her stockings down her legs, discarding them beside her hat and shawl before tentatively slipping her toes beneath the water. Modestly gathering the hem of her white dress in one hand, she tip toed forward, a pathetic squeal escaping her lips as she felt a fish skim against her calf beneath the thick green algae.

Finn went first with his back to the pond, holding her hand as she ventured into his waiting arms. He was captivated by every intake of breath and needy squeeze of her fingers against his. She was at his mercy and he relished every second of it. When her foot faltered along the slimy bottom where it sloped downward into greater depths, she cried out “Finn, I’m slipping!”

“S’alright, I’ve got you,” he replied confidently, flexing the muscles in his arms for her benefit.

“Can’t go much further,” she warned, biting her lip. The look in her eye begged for understanding, a sliver of mercy, but Finn only tugged at her wrists more insistently.

“Let’s try a lesson, shall we?” he said with a look of amusement.

“No, no, please!” her voice trilled anxiously.

“C’mon, you’re a big girl, you can do it,” he insisted, hands moving to clutch her waist and pull her into the center of the pond with him. She released a frightened cry as he did so, grappling onto his shoulders as she felt herself become weightless. 

“Finn! Finn, this isn’t funny!” she wailed, realizing she could neither see nor feel the bottom to ease her fears.

“Relax,” he commanded firmly as he pried her hands from around his neck. He chuckled inwardly at the way her nails clawed at his bare back and forearms, thinking of the suggestive tales he could tell.

Without warning, he turned her onto her back in one swift movement, hushing her whimpers as her hair dipped and swirled in the water. “I taught all my nieces and nephews this way,” he informed her, patting her dampened locks down gently. His fingers slowly crept along her arms, unfurling them from her chest so they reached out from her body like a crucifix. She couldn’t say if it was the chill from the water or his hands dipping perilously close to the curve of her breasts, but she shivered beneath his touch.

To her surprise she found herself floating easily, ears submerged below the water line listening to the muffled sound of her heartbeat thumping in her chest. Finn’s face hovered above her imposingly and a nervous twitch pulled at her cheeks. She watched Finn’s mouth moving out of synch with his words she could barely hear through cotton stuffed ears. Her brow furrowed as she tried to connect the words she thought he'd said, “I loved you." They made her chest rise and fall quickly with uneven breath, disturbing her balance. Something about the slight sneer of his lip and the intensity of his gaze made her tense suddenly, muscles clenching until her middle began sinking downward precariously.

Then Finn reached a large hand beneath her lower back to support her. With his opposite hand grasping under her chin, he elevated her face toward the heavens so she might breathe evenly again and she sighed in grateful relief. Eyes fluttering against the breeze, Finn swore she batted her lashes at him in that moment. “You’re so beautiful,” he couldn’t help mumbling, his Adam’s apple bobbing in desire. Despite their proximity, he wondered if he had actually said it aloud. The moment of perfect silence stretched on as he cradled her into him adoringly, not a ripple to be seen all around them. 

The peace soon shattered with the force of Adeline’s impish laughter which forced her chin from his hold. Finn’s jaw clenched as he suffered the indignity of her rejection for the second time that day. The shred of affection for her dissipated with the faint echo of her voice as it skipped over the water. His resolve returned as he became more certain than ever of his decision.

Adeline bit her lip as she noted the look of displeasure cross his face and wiggled beneath Finn’s grasp.  Attempting to right herself in the water was a useless endeavor, however, as Finn kept her prostrated before him. Recapturing her cheeks with his long fingers, he pressed into her flesh slightly as he scolded, “Wait, we’re not finished." Then he queried softly, "Do you trust me?” 

“I-I do,” she affirmed, not knowing how else to respond. She screwed her eyes shut in concentration before exhaling shakily, “What are you going to teach me?”

Finn smirked at her obedience, knowing she’d sink like a stone without his aid, her fate literally in his hands. Leaning over to brush his nose against the shell of her ear, he whispered, “Oh, this is a lesson you won’t forget.” He allowed himself a moment to savor the feeling of his lips pressed firmly to her temple the way he imagined he might after making love to her. He swallowed harshly as he realized that could never be. Adeline did not want him. The hours spent in her company had been a lie and he felt like a fool. With that thought, he released her to the murky depths where she belonged.

Her eyes shot open in abject fear as she felt herself falling, mouth gaping in shock as she felt his strong hands shove her toward a watery grave. The air from her lungs escaped to the surface in massive bubbles as she attempted to cry out. Arms and legs fumbling in uncoordinated panic, she resurfaced momentarily. Her hands desperately grasped for a hold, fingertips brushing Finn's ever so slightly. "Now you want me?" he taunted.

Swimming an arm's length away to watch the look of betrayal and horror on her face, he felt righteously vindicated. Closing his eyes, he listened to her jagged screams pierce the air, sending the birds from the trees in alert. Then he paddled back to the shore, barely registering her torturous fight, thrashing in the dark waters until exhaustion overtook her weakened body.

Sitting upon the muddy bank, he witnessed her final struggle as she silently slipped beneath the algea, white dress billowing above her like a cloud. The ripples left behind by her futile attempt at survival, beating against the shore in one last, quiet protest. Finn’s breathing came calmly and evenly as he thought of walking home to sit by the fire. His sopping wet clothes clung to his body in the way her perfume still hovered in cloying sweetness and he longed to be rid of the sensation. 

The late sun had gone, dipping below the horizon in tranquil undulations of pink and orange. As Finn looked over the hazy water with a blank stare, a surge of pride swept through him. The powerlessness he’d felt earlier, washed away with the mocking sounds of Adeline’s laughter. As he gathered his shirt and cap, he closed his eyes to relive the sounds of the splashing and screams, trying not to forget their satisfying melody.

---------------

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[case-almost-closed]

Hey, I would like to ask a Gin x fem reader. Here's my idea and it's okay if you don't have time or inspiration for it!

Maybe some "critical" scenario in which he's about to get shot or badly injured (perhaps she's already on the organization and was very reliable to Gin, which is weird since he doesn't trust anyone, but then something happend and made him be suspicious of her; another idea is that she's not with them and that she has helped Akai, Conan, etc. Therefore she knew beforehand their plans on shooting him) and she kind of gets in the way or pushes him, therefore saving him? (Weird as well because he has even shot himself lol but maybe a bullet that was meant to go straight to his head). I know it may seem off character (or maybe we just haven't seen enough different scenarios of him), but maybe he shows appreciation, or is kind of surprised? I wouldn't know how to end it though.

The main thing was her saving him from anything and creating a better relationship, the other things were just ideas. It's so hard liking a character that's kind of like a cold wall, just... write it in your own way (I think you do it really well). Maybe make him show like- the closest thing he would demonstrate as gratitud or affection... I would gladly take something romantic but seems impossible with him and it makes me want to cry.

And sorry for making you write for him bc he's actually hard to represent but- there isn't enough writings about him I guess and it's making me anxious, at this point it's not even funny lol.

Playing with fire

Gin x fem!reader Words: 2.1K Warnings: Toxic "relationship", manipulattion, very toxic, it's Gin what did you expect? A/N: I am so incredibly sorry!! I totally forgot that this was sitting in my WIPs!!!! I hope it's okay, how it turned out though I'm not quite sure, it's that good. I tried the romance thing, but like you said, it's Gin.

She had known from the start that it would not be easy. Her mission - infiltrating the black organisation - was one that had failed many before her, many whose intention had not been to spy and eliminate the other members one by one. And yet this had not been the most difficult part. Nor had it been the hardest part to convince the other members of her loyalty. At first, she still remembered the face of the man she had had to kill, but by now she had to admit that she could hardly remember his features.

No, the hardest part had been keeping her priorities and true loyalties straight.

No one had warned her how much something like this could tug at your nerves, shake your mind until you no longer knew which way was up and which way was down, what was right and what was wrong. And the mysterious, silver-haired man in the hat certainly didn't make it any easier for her.

She had been warned about him. He would know no scruples, no mercy, no emotions. And she had loathed him, oh she had hated him, truly. He epitomised everything she had sworn to destroy. And yet time seemed to tear down her walls, hard and high, and every time he entered the room now, her eyes were glued to him. Every time he looked in her direction, her pulse quickened and her heart beat in her throat.

Every time he laughed, that small, knowing, dark laugh, she felt hot and adrenaline shot through her body, making her jittery.

She hated the feeling and loved it at the same time. It was wrong, it was poisonous. But, oh, it felt so good. Gin had her in the palm of his hand and he didn't even have to do much for it.

And yet, there was this one, this ethical, part of her that resisted it devastatingly.

That didn't want to accept that Gin had an effect on her, that was the only obstacle between Gin and control over her. And she clung to it desperately.

But today her dilemma was to come to an end. It was all planned and, from the looks of it, it would be successful. She, Gin and a handful of other members would meet in a remote, abandoned building to negotiate a deal. And if all went according to plan, it would be the last one Gin would sign.

She knew exactly where the sniper would be, where Gin would have to stand and from which direction the shot would come. One little movement of the finger on the trigger and she would finally be rid of these tormenting thoughts about Gin. After the other members, no more than two, were killed, she would fake her own death and go into hiding. The FBI would make it look like an accident and she would never have to worry about this organisation.

And yet she couldn't shake off this unpleasant, queasy feeling as she waited with him on the roof of the building. "You're distracted, Madeira." After all these years, she was already more familiar and comfortable with that name than her own. Gin didn't even look at her as he lit a cigarette, just stared at the door to the staircase entrance where the others would soon appear.

She endeavoured to look calm and impassive and leaned her arms on the railing, letting her gaze glide over the city. For a moment, she thought she saw a flash in the sniper's hiding place, but she was sure she had only imagined it. "It's not exactly interesting up here."

Gin still didn't look at her, just blew smoke into the cold night air. "It's not supposed to be interesting. Just beneficial." She could hear the rebuke in his voice and straightened up, now facing the entrance as well. "Of course." Discreetly, without moving her head, she looked down at the watch on her wrist. Ten minutes to go until the planned murder. Although, could it be called murder if it was for a good cause?

She struggled to look as normal as possible, to keep her heartbeat steady. Gin was excellent at reading her, even if she didn't know how he managed to take her pulse without even looking at her. Another five or six minutes passed and she was beginning to think they weren't going to turn up when muffled footsteps and laboured breathing sounded from the stairwell. She immediately straightened up, while Gin didn't change a bit. The only movement was the rising and falling of his chest, which was soon to stop forever.

She knew it was necessary, even right, but she felt this incredible urge inside her to do something about it. To push him aside, to warn him, just anything. Instead, she stood impassively in the background while Gin took up the negotiations. Well, that sounded like the other men had a choice. They didn't. Gin dominated the conversation as usual, subtle yet effective threats and even from a slightly further distance she could see the sweat of fear glistening on their foreheads. What the conversation was really about, however, she didn't know. Her gaze kept wandering back to her wristwatch, the hands of which were approaching the big 12 on the watch face far too quickly for her liking.

"We're done here." She glanced up from her watch - twenty seconds to go - and saw Gin satisfied, or at least as satisfied as he could look, accept the case and turn towards her, only to tilt his head slightly. "You're pale. Something's wrong."

Ten more seconds.

"I - " she faltered, the lump in her throat not allowing her to get any more out. The narrowing of his eyes was palpable, even if she couldn't see anything through the curtain of hair. Eight seconds.

"Spit it out," he ordered her and she flinched, not because of his rebuke, but because she had spotted the small red dot dancing across the brim of his hat. Five more seconds.

"I..I..." Gin snorted dismissively and turned away.

What happened next was so fast that she didn't quite realise what exactly happened, only that it had happened and that she had ruined the FBI's carefully devised plan. As if in slow motion, she saw the second hand on her watch creep up to twelve and something inside her stirred. Something that protested that it was wrong, not right, to kill this brilliant, intelligent man in front of her.

Her body reacted before her mind could follow. She leapt forward and crashed into Gin, causing him to stumble back at the exact moment the sniper in the building across the street pulled the trigger. It was silent, fast and would have been fatal without her, but instead of Gin's head, the bullet pierced her shoulder. As if in slow motion, she could see Gin's face contort, but not in shock or fear.

His face was an image of total satisfaction, the likes of which she had never seen on him before.

But as soon as the bullet had left her shoulder on the other side, she felt as if time was running twice as fast. She didn't even have time to scream in pain before she fell to the ground and banged her head against the railing. Black dots began to dance before her eyes and the last thing she saw was Gin bending over her before she lost consciousness.

~**~

It hurt a little when the man pierced her skin one last time with the needle to stitch up the wound, but she didn't make a face, her eyes still fixed on the floor in front of her. Anything to avoid looking into the corner where Gin was leaning.

The doctor - well, she didn't think he was really a doctor anymore - bowed slightly and left the room. She was tempted to call after him, to beg him to stay and delay the impending conversation with Gin even longer, but she remained silent.

The talk was unavoidable and the longer she kept him waiting, the worse it would get, she was sure of that. Because it was clear that she had been exposed. She had half-consciously overheard Gin talking to someone about the fact that she had revealed her true loyalties, which would be punished.

She wasn't stupid, she knew what punishment meant in the black organisation: death. If she was lucky, she would be shot in the head and it would be over quickly. If she wasn't so lucky, which she suspected she was, her death would be delayed and made as painful as possible, probably with an interrogation about her connection with the FBI. For the life of her, she couldn't explain why they had patched her up.

The door closed silently and they were alone, the only sound her heavy breathing, fuelled by the pain in her shoulder. She could feel his burning gaze on her, but she kept her own gaze lowered and remained silent. For a few moments, there was complete silence, which further strained her nerves, but she didn't dare let a sound escape her lips.

"That was stupid." Gin's words made her flinch slightly because, despite the fact that he was almost whispering, they seemed loud to her.

"But I don't have to tell you that, you already know that, right Madeira? Or should I call you agent instead?"

Still silent, she lifted her gaze to look him straight in the eye in defiance. If she was going to die, then not without putting up a fight, even if that fight consisted only of a glaring look. With his next words, however, he knocked her completely off balance.

"I already knew it. We all knew it. Well," he grinned slightly. "The important ones knew." His words drilled into her like more bullets, only they hurt more than the sniper's bullet ever could have. They had all known. All her work had been for nothing. She didn't ask 'how' because she doubted Gin would tell her. Besides, it was no longer important. Still, she couldn't hold back a few questions.

"Why?" Her voice sounded raspy and rough, though she didn't care. "Why didn't you kill me directly?"

Gin tilted his head slightly before taking a few steps towards her. Her body instantly stiffened on the cot. Far too close, he stopped in front of her and looked down at her. His hair had fallen so far from his forehead that she could see his eyes and there was something almost maniacal in them that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Because I knew you could be won over." One of his fingers grabbed a strand of hair and twirled it. "By the time we found out, several months had passed. The situation was starting to fray your nerves then. You were becoming easier to read and it was more than obvious to someone like me that you were starting to lose your focus, your loyalty." The strand fell back against her and Gin began to walk slowly around her, his shoes making a clicking contact with the ground.

"Because I knew you found me... interesting. And I could see how far I could take advantage of that."

Against her will, she blushed and Gin laughed darkly. "Oh, no need to be embarrassed, Madeira. If it makes you feel any better-" he leaned down so that she could feel his breath against her ear. "- I've taken a liking to you, too. Everyone loves a new, shiny toy. And let me tell you-" his fingers ran over the back of her neck, "-you've been my favourite in a long time."

She had to swallow because a lump had settled in her throat. Gin was playing with her, that much was clear, after all, he had just told her himself, but she didn't know why he was delaying her death. Was it for his own entertainment? To give her hope that she wouldn't die after all, just to put a bullet in her chest? She wouldn't put it past him.

Gin seemed to read her mind as he chuckled harshly. "Oh don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. You saved my life and I'm not giving up my new toy anytime soon. You've ruined your position with the FBI. At least the boss isn't inclined to kill you immediately." He moved again so that he was standing directly behind her. She didn't feel comfortable not being able to see him, but she didn't dare turn around.

"You're asking why I didn't have you killed earlier and still don't? Do you want the answer?" He didn't wait for a sign from her. All at once, his hand shot around from behind, grabbed her by the throat, squeezed and pulled her head back. His face was right next to hers, so she felt his breath brush across her face as he murmured his next words, which sent a shiver of pure fear and excitement simultaneously down her spine.

"Because I want to prove to them that I can break you."

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

June 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Step By Step (Tues WeTV & Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I really adore the family/household dynamics in this show. All the relationships between siblings are so well executed. All the tension and sub text and covert glances in the first “modeling” sequence was so good. I really want to watch the BL within this BL. Bruce is THE BEST. Jeng shutting down everyone with a cool few words is genius (especially given the curt sharp flat way he speaks Thai). Why does nobody have parasols or sun hats or sunshades or sunglasses or anything? I’m actually not mad about seeing an attempted reunion with the ex, bc we are getting to see both that (and how) they once were good together, and also the cracks that drove them apart (and will not allow them to ultimately be together a 2nd time around). I do feel sorry for Jeng, he moved too slowly and lost the 1st round. The captions were not good in the trunk seen, but trust me it was totally hilarious. 

La Pluie (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - I finally figured out why I am so tense around this show. In openly taking to task and challenging the soulmates trope, this narrative is telling viewers not to trust it’s core trope - which means we cannot trust the main couple to end happily, nor can we trust those characters who believe most strongly in fated mates (Pat & Mai). This means I, personally, not only can’t rely on an HEA but (as someone who also does not believe in soulmates) I am not entirely sure I even WANT an HEA. This has NEVER happened to me before. It makes me uncomfortable because that’s a core part of my identify with these shows. I mean, good job La Pluie, but also.... huh. Back to this ep: Uh oh. The crush is obvious and the soulmate knows what’s up now. The sex scene twist was v interesting, v gay, and v unusual in a BL. Unfortunately it’s still a BL so the faen fatal just HAD to appear. Will there ever be one out of Thailand where this trope doesn’t show up? Next week is the tried & true uke damsels off into the woods alone. Sigh. 

Our Skyy 2 (Bad Buddy & 1k*) eps 12-16fin - Jimmy, baby, why so hot in an engineering smock? Please have mercy. Aw, Marc is back in yet ANOTHER BL. Definitely the current record holder for most BLs at any one time. (His filming schedule must’ve been insane at the beginning of this year!) PatPran are still great, and their eps this had me hooting with laughter (startling the cat). I forgot how much I enjoyed this show and cast. (Ohm looks great with longer hair, but also he’s lost a lot of weight. I hope he’s OK.) OhmNanon give pitch perfect LTR energy. Throwing EarthMix into the, erm, mix is fun if awkward. NO SINGING. 2 damsels in the forest! Also PatPran = geniuses at mock fighting. So much flirting. It was all quite adorbs. But me-thinks Chief & Tian have been eating moonlight chicken. Full review below. 

Be My Favorite (Fri YouTube) ep 3 of 10? - was enjoying it up until the last bit, why so digusted by smooches? Bad GMMTV no green tea for you. Trash watch here! Rollercoaster about to go DOWWNNNN. 

Luminous Solution (Sat Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - I still only like the high school characters + Dome (WHY so gorgeous?). Is he a magical spirit too? Also, the subs were well off kilter. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 10 fin - God they’re so cute. This show used the manga as a storyboard, so I knew the “crisis of faith over possibility of loss” would happen. Still in live action this felt tonally off. While understandable given Yutaka’s character, and ultimately particularly important for the dad and a relationship with the family, I don’t know we needed it in this BL. The book does have a better ending second scene, but it wouldn’t be possible to do it on screen easily. Ultimately, this show had a simple, touching, quiet end to it. That’s very like the show as a whole. I did love it - it’s been top of my list all along. Full review after the special airs. 

Love Tractor (Korea Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 8 - I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT IS EVERYTHING. SHUT UP I AM FERRIL FOR THE BEAUTIFUL CITY BOY AND THE YOUNG FARMER. Come on. Korea. SRS? Plus some language play? I just go die now. 

Star Struck (Korea iQIYI & Gaga) ep 7-8 fin - Man this was a difficult show for me. I know we’re supposed to identify with HanJoon but I really felt for YooJae. I’ve been in his position more often than I care to count, and it’s terrible to lose a friend because they caught feelings and you did not. It’s an awful thing to hold a friendship hostage on condition of a romantic relationship. Especially if the other person is not sexually interested in you! All that said, the boyfriend ep was okay. Not sure I believed in this relationship, but it was cute enough. The final ep was (how do I put this?) a loser. We spent a lot of time with terrible home lives and then a semi happy for now final scene? Whatever. Full review below. 

Vian the series (Vietnam YouTube ) ep 6 of 12 - somehow I keep missing this one, I’ll catch it next week. 

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - I think the Taiwanese boss is my favorite character. Japan rarely (if ever ) trots out the faen fatal trope. I mean I named it with a Thai word for a reason, it’s not from origin yaoi at all. Yet still there she is. Sigh. This show. 

Stupid Genius (Vietnam Fri YouTube) ep 1 of 6 - RL Studio (Stupid Boys Stupid Love) bringing us yet another high school set VBL. It’s actually not bad. I see a lot of common faces whom I’ve enjoyed in past VBLs. 

It’s Airing But ...

House of Stars (Thai Mon iQIYI) 12 eps - I bounced at ep 3. Will binge if told it is worth it at end.

Stay (Pinoy YouTube) 7 eps - It’s mostly in English and set in LA so I’m not bothering but the first one did drop.

Ever After (Pinoy ????) - I got nothing. 

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS and no, I have no idea where to get it, why would I? (Say it with me everyone: Oh Japan, must you?*)

Boys Love Omegaverse (Japan ????) - honestly tho? Who tf cares? You’ll still tell me if you find it, because inquiring minds... Irony of this airing at the same time as Takumi-kun. Full circle much, Japan? 

Tin Tem Jai Special (Thai ????) - honestly I checked Gaga & iQiyi in my territory (craptastic hotel) and neither had it listed so I quickly gave up. I mean OF COURSE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE Lee Long Shi in a bathtub, who wouldn’t? But... 

Just because I didn’t watch the special doesn’t mean I can’t gank Lee Long Shi wearing nothing but soap bubbles for you. 

I’m not a monster. 

Ended This Week 

Our Skyy 2 final 4 eps thoughts: This was an interesting combination, and don’t get me wrong I very much enjoyed it, but it felt like the story was carried by PatPran’s characters while the setting and narrative followed an ATOTS arc - ultimately disjointed. OhmNanon are so bold and vibrant they’re too stark a tonal contrast to EarthMix’s more refined and elegant approach, so for me the screen presences and the style of story clashed. It was like a bouquet made up of tulips & roses: they are both flowers and they’re both pretty, but I feel like they actually belong in different vases. Still, enjoyable. And I got a crying kiss. Always makes me happy. Definitely the best of this bunch, and probably the best Our Skyy (and I genuinely loved both the NLMG historical installment and SOTUS.) 8/10 

Star Struck. A friends to lovers story that felt more friends to tolerant yet disinterested partner. It was more about challenges with parents and class strife. I would’ve been disappointed if the show hadn’t come out of nowhere so I had no expectations. But as KBLs go, don’t bother. 6/10 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting:

6/15 Tokyo in April AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan Gaga) 8 eps - Based on a yaoi, this is a reunion romance that takes place in an office. Japan does Our Dating Sim? Yes please.

Still Coming - June 2023

6/22 About Us but Not About Us (Pinoy movie from 2022 on Prime) - A professor grieving the loss of his partner meets an ambitious literature student.

6/24 Why You (Khmer BL ????) - Billed as a horror romance, not sure if this is a movie or a series where it will air... nothing except that it exists.

6/24 Tie The Knot AKA Under the Same Sky (Pinoy movie on Prime) Trailer - I guess Prime is coming for our Pinoy BL? From OXIN Films (Rainbow Prince), announced for 2022 based on a true story, Briggs's family runs a bridal business but he has never had a chance to fall in love until he meets Shao, a groom to be.

6/25 Dinosaur Love (Thai iQIYI) Trailer 5 eps - from Ultimate Troop about a uni student, Rak, whose partner cheats on him with Rak's best friend. This gives bad boy hazer Dino an opportunity to hit on Rak at last. From The Yearbook people so I will not watch this as it airs. After Remember Me? Never again with them.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Bruce is so damn fantastic in this show.

Consent comes in all different forms. (both Step by Step) 

Fight fight fight!

Sex sex sex blow job! (both La Pluie) 

Smartest boy in the show. 

Not enough InkPa... never enough. Never never never! 

Love the suit.

All from the Our Skyy 2 BB + ATOTS cross over. 

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? IVE’s I Am

[pillow4t]

These are just my favorite/main headcannons tbh

• HEAVY on the they/them Moria

• Cassidy is a girls girl™ If he's out on a mission with (insert literally any woman in ow) and some creepy guy is hitting on her/touching her, he'll go over and defend her, pretending to be her boyfriend so they'll back down

•Trans Junkrat!!! Trans Sombra!!!!

•Roadhog had a wife and kids before he joined the AFL idc what anyone says

•Baptist calls lifeweaver "Flè mwen" which means "my flower" in Haitian Creole (I used a translator so let me know if I'm wrong <3)

•Pharah stole one of Cassidy's hats back in his blackwatch days when she was 13, she still has it (and sometimes wears it around the bass)

•Genji has a drink named after him at the bar he used to frequent when he was younger

•Junkrats mom spoke Arabic so that's why he gravitated to Ana when he was first around her, he hasn't told anybody tho

•Mercy loves to harp on Cassidy about his smoking habits like she isn't living off of coffee and cigarettes (and sometimes a bagel bc of pharah😌

•Cassidy got Ana a "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt for Christmas, he bought it as a joke, she wears it regularly.

•Junkrat can swallow something then bring it back up, it's a great party trick, he thinks, but it usually grosses people out. It's come in handy on missions tho

•When Sojourn brings Murphy to the watchpoint, she gets SMOTHERED with pets, kisses and love from everyone. The same thing happens when Brigitte brings Mitzi around.

•Symetera and Lifeweaver have completely opposite tastes in music so they were CONSTANTLY arguing about who gets to put on music when they shared a dorm (sym usually won)

•When Hanzo laughs he snorts

•Lúcio has real bad arthritis and his skates are more braces than anything, he also has knee, hand and back braces at the ready

•Tracer gets Emily a souvenir from every place she gets deployed to

•Zenyattas favorite color is Yellow

•JunkerQueen carries around hamster treats in her pockets when Wreaking Ball is with her "For when the champ gets hungry!" She always says(in reality she just thinks it's cute how hamsters eat)

•Torbjorn sometimes brings his (older) kids around if the original group of Overwatch is there, he trusts the others...just not with his kids and is really reluctant with Brigitte

•Roadhog has been teaching Junkrat how to properly write and read and it's really improved how Junkrat functions when they're not fighting for survival in the outback

•Illari is a jewelry girl, but she cant wear to much because it gets in the way of training/fighting, but her collection of gold accessories is off the charts

•Sombra took the username D.va on social media and finds it SO funny that Dva has to use a different variation of her gamertag

•I feel like Reaper still has the same sense of humor he did in over/blackwatch and will constantly make witty jokes to Widowmaker or Moria who just give him a blank stare, Doomfist usually finds them funny tho

•Kiriko and Genji literally cannot cook to save their lives and usually takes two of them to make a small microwave meal

•B.O.B had his voice box removed when he was working for Ashes parents and even after all the years of her offering him to get his voice back, he chooses to use sign language instead but the offer is always on the table, Ashe says

•Lúcio has a 10k DJ set up in his room, and gets violent if anyone tries to mess with anything, literally almost took Cassidy's other arm off when he moved a bunch of dials, he'll show you around the soundboard if you ask tho!

•Kiriko is Hanzo and Genjis Cousin (Asa is their mom's sister <3)

•Reinhardt snores. LOUDLY. Brigitte had to get him a sleep apnea mask so she was able to sleep in the same vicinity as him

•Reaper is from Michigan🫶🏻

•Soldier76 gets made fun of by D.va for being old, but the second he's like "me and Ana are practically the same age" D.va gets all defensive "you just called a woman old!"

•Mei and Tracer share a room, they both sleep better with company

•(Blackwatch)Moria and Genji had an anime night where they would watch 10-20 episodes of any given series they were on, but

---

RAHHH OKAY I LITERALLY HAVE MORE LINER UP BUT I FEEL LIKE ITS ALREADY A SUPER LONG POST

But yeah :) I'm incapable of liking something a little bit so yeahhhh

[running-with-the-feels]

Imagine our dear southern boy Kuai Liang dressed as a cowboy. Boots, hat, and all (probably something Johnny convinced him to do for funsies). Hanzo meanwhile has...feelings when he sees the outfit

It's for Johnny's halloween party and Kuai Liang only agreed bc Johnny promised to help him get something for Frost's birthday in exchange.

Hanzo shows up expecting Kuai Liang to have wormed his way out of doing a costume, so he doesn't even recognize him at first until Kuai Liang walks over

Kuai Liang, smirking: Well howdy there, darlin'

Hanzo, chokes on his drink: Gods have mercy

Kuai Liang: How're ya holdin' up? I know this ain't really your scene.

Hanzo, still coughing: Stop talking, you're going to kill me, fuck

They get about an hour into the party before Hanzo snaps, catching a glimpse of Kuai Liang's ass in the chaps he wore and dragging the cryomancer off to one of the guest rooms

[dizzybizz]

you have unleashed a demon. i warned you.

i don't think this is going to have any structure whatsoever but i will pretend it does for my own sanity.

i want to start with some behind the scenes stuff bc obviously i do

like i only named guy that because i didn't want to think too hard about names and he has always been a silly little guy. his farms name is sail away farm,,, like the enya song. that's where it came from but really it's a SSS reference cus i will bring other SIs into this somehow. (it was from one of the ai dungeon streams... when julia wrapped up yet another accidental psychological horror story by sailing away whilst listening "to the tunes of enya")

and with remy i had already planned on romancing harvey so i wanted a name i could make a funny shipname of. their shipname is harmy (ironic isn't it ^^). stowaway farm came from some thoughts i had about remy's life before moving to pelican town. where he didn't feel welcome and like the people around him weren't keen on being seen with him. and i just liked the ring it has to it :) the two of them both having farms with "away" in the name was accidental and didn't hit me until after it was too late to change it.

here they are at the character creation screen !!!!

GUY IS MY SILLIEST LITTLE GUY. he's like a hamster or a chipmunk or other small rodents

him asf ^^^^

he's also like ponyo to me, he is very ponyocoded. his theme song would be the full version of ponyo on the cliff by the sea.

he is a biter, a chewer. he's kirby, a chainchomper... he would snack on rocks if he could. he's the breakdancing sims cat. he has bad volume control. he is an octopus, a koala, a monkey. he names a lot of his farm animals after fictional characters. but his hens are named hip, hop, cherry and pop after the lemon demon song. he would take a sip of a joja cola and go "oh, that is vile" and keep taking sips like he needs to confirm it multiple times.

him and elliott are so silly..... their shipname is gull which worked out so well it almost seems intentional. they both got ties to the ocean and beach... we love to see it. they got together the day after elliott's birthday, not only that but it was also right before elliott's 8 heart event. so it was really like guy came in before his book reading, asked him out and then was all "THAT'S MY BF EVERYONE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH" during the reading... he is his biggest cheerleader

he is best friends with emily and shane. and when emily mentioned that she would make a good clown during the stardew fair, he said "this is why we're best friends. we would be the best clowns." and he ate three burgers in a row that day. one day during blackberry season he collected 93 blackberries and was just running around the town with them on his person. him and gus have history together which i will make a whole comic about some day. whilst gaming with abigail he ran into enemies twice and got himself killed. he accidentally bought a pirate sword from marlon. he has died once. he is trying to goad alex into actually shaving his hair off because of that one throwaway comment. HE HAS TWO GARBAGE HATS. (tootsies is SO getting the other one once 1.6 is out)

^ this is what he wore for spirit's eve, called it "farmer in a rush" (he literally just took off his shorts)

i have way less on remy cus he isn't as far along and has had a mostly average time in pelican town so far.

remy is just a big dog who is scared of most things. he is a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. he feels very out of place in social interactions. his limbs are too long for him. he is trying his best.

he can come off as very... displeased... his resting face just looks slightly ticked off. really he's a big softie. he has some real unfortunate luck too.. except the night of the egg hunt when he had a fairy visit. he holds onto that little bit of luck there. a glimmer of hope. he had a meteor crash in the middle of his farm, luckily his crops were safe and sound tho, small mercies. weeds damaged his farm the same night the scripted earthquake hit. one day in the mines he got so lost in the dark he had to give up for the day and head up to the surface again, he was one level away from an elevator. he is financially struggling. he names his animals after food. his theme song would probably be cave in by margaux or something.

harmy is a slow-burn, strangers to friends to lovers scenario. they're delightful, i can't wait to see their relationship develop. remy kinda wanted to ask harvey to dance during the flower dance but chickened out (totally not because i only had 3 hearts with him stfu) (also those two pages aren't canon in my headcanon cus i think both of them would be oblivious and dumb as a rock. i just wanted to draw it lol. i think it takes a whileeee for either of them to ever catch feelings.)

he doesn't know many of the villagers too well. he is taking his time settling in fully and is so busy with the farm and mines and fishing and whatnot. oh y'know when sam asks you what his next song should be about?? yeah, remy said trains which has planted the idea that he is a former train kid in my head. and that's something he and harvey can bond over- i think it's really sweet :'). train and plane autism couple. remy has a sweet tooth. he feels intimidated by most villagers. i have a whole hair arc planned for him where he ends up growing his hair out once he really settles in. it's gonna be so epic. he went through 3 of emily's heart events in a row which was wild.

his chest lineup >>>>>

here's an expression sheet i started and will hopefully finish one day

i think that's all for now- I TOLD YOU IT WAS GOING TO BE A LONG POST NO?? ARE YOU HAPPY??? I AM. INFODUMPING IS AWESOME.

i ain't proofreading this are you kidding me.

y'all summoned this. my mutuals summoning my infodump demon with their summoning triangle. feeding my hyperfixation.

[viilpstick]

I was gonna post this in my other acc but since I wrote this more like a vent and it's way more self indulgent than most fics that I wrote (also smaller) I decided to send it to ur inbox instead,,, anyway (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

•••

“Kalim?” Jeanne's voice made the boy jump, his red eyes widening as he quickly dried the tears off his face. The raven haired girl wasn't a fool though, he wasn't ok.

“What happened?” She didn't even want to ask if he was ok, the answer was clearly a no, and there was no use debating the obvious.

“Nothing, I just–” he paused, taking a deep breath and showing her his thumb. “I just cut myself.”

Jeanne used her hand to analyze his finger, scared her hook could accidentally make the scratch worse. It wasn't deep, but it probably hurt because it was big. She asked him if he knew where the first aid kit was, he said he didn't know, so – with much protest from Kalim’s end – she just ripped a part of her red sash(?) off, wrapping it around his hand. The boy sighed.

“...sorry.”

“It's whatever. I can get another one.” She said nonchalantly, finishing to tie it around his hand. “Now, why were you crying?"

“I already said it, I cut–”

“No, you wouldn't cry because of that.” She demanded, her blue eyes capturing his red ones and making him bite his lip nervously. “Listen, Kalim… you can be vulnerable with me, really. Even if it's something stupid – which I don't think it is – I won't laugh.”

The white haired boy stayed quiet for a moment, until he ultimately gave up and looked down, his cheeks growing red in shame.

“I… I tried cooking something small. Just for me, you know? But… I ended up not only burning it but also hurting myself.” He then pointed to the sink, where a burnt pan laid, whatever food had been inside it was probably thrown in the trash. It explained the horrible smell she felt when getting into NRC’s kitchen.

“I thought Jamil didn't let you use a knife, or a stove?”

“He doesn't know.”

“Oh.” With that, she looked at him puzzled. “So… you're crying because it went wrong?”

“N-no, not really, it's just–” he groaned, resting his arms on the table and his head on them right after. Jeanne could see his frustration from a mile away. “I'm tired of not being able to do anything right, Jeanne. I can't even hold a knife properly.”

Oh.

Jeanne rubbed her hand up and down his back, her heart aching because of his pain, which was so clearly obvious. Kalim was shaking, he felt useless, he didn't understand why everything he made went so wrong. It was incredibly frustrating. The worst thing? Probably one of the most independent people he knew had caught him crying over not being able to cook a meal.

He… just felt so much shame.

“Kalim, look at me.” Jeanne asked, and he hesitantly complied. He saw a gentle smile on her face as she slowly passed her hands through his short hair. “Let's do it again, together. I'll guide you, and you’ll be able to do it by yourself.”

“No, you don't– I don't want to inconvenience you…” Kalim immediately refused, but was quickly silenced by a tender kiss on his forehead. Jeanne's eyes seemed to lock his gaze, making him weak and at her mercy, as she usually did.

It was a shame he couldn't hate her for the power she held over him.

“It's not inconvenient. I want to help you.” She said, a smile on her face. She made a small bun with her own hair, going to the sink to wash her hand and her hook, looking for alcohol to disinfect it. “I won't interfere unless I absolutely have to, come on. Let's make soup or something.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, still worried, but only received a smile from his girlfriend.

“Absolutely.”

With that, Kalim finally chuckled, the sound music to Jeanne's ears.

“Ok… thank you.”

This felt SO princess and the frog codded

KALIM IS A BABY BC HE IS CUTE AND SWEET

BUT HE IS FOR NOT WANTING TO BE IN OTHERS EYES A BABY :(((

also jeanne is such a gentleman, throw my hat to her

what a woman, amen