#sorry it took so long lmfao

[crunchy-rocc]

three of them

@anon-lemon

[mirrorhouse]

baldur's gate 3 ✨ characters (insp @wizardskissing)

[transsexualhollyleaf]

Cinderheart?

the original bisexual disaster

(design requests are still open)

[bsxcrxts]

comfort

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

word count: 5.4k longest oneshot I've ever written whoops

Contains: Luke being sad and hurt, mentions of blood and bruising (not in detail), reunion between reader and Luke post-Dagobah training and Cloud City duel, angst just due to the whole situation in general, a whole lot of tension, blowjobs, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected sex (don't do this irl unless you want a baby idk what to say), somewhat subby/needy Luke, he's pathetic. a wet cat of a man in this and I love him

A/N : This is self-indulgent, soft, nasty, and probably poorly researched. Reader's not a nurse or a doctor, just a concerned gal with a crush, and Star Wars medicine is made up anyway. I have no idea why she's on the Falcon at this point but fuck it, we ball!

You find yourself trailing after Luke in an effort to get him to rest; whatever the hell he just went through in Cloud City initially had him almost feverish, tossing around on the cot in your little makeshift medbay and muttering about things you didn't understand, things about Ben and lies and Vader. But when he sensed the latter, he shot out of bed and right back into the cockpit of the Falcon, open wounds be damned, apparently.

He just doesn't quit, you thought to yourself, momentarily enamored with his strength and somewhat miffed he's left, but then your stomach sank as you also realize you don't even know how bad the rest of his injuries even are.

You and Leia had managed to fit him with the stabilizer on his right arm before she had to excuse herself to help navigate the Falcon away from the Imperial Fleet, and you didn't get much further on assessing Luke before he snapped out of whatever fervor he'd been in and followed her. You didn't run after him, too busy trying to scour the pitiful excuse of a medkit on the Falcon for more supplies and knowing it would be a lost cause anyway– he can be incredibly headstrong when it comes to helping his friends. But you've made the jump to hyperspace now, you've felt the engines shift. It should be safe, and you're pretty sure he should really, really rest.

Creeping into the cockpit of the Falcon, you see Luke slumped in one of the second-row seats, clutching a blanket around himself. He's not speaking in hushed tones to himself anymore, but in the blue light of hyperspace, his eyes look so tired. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It's not the first time you've touched him in months, but it feels like it is– you had cradled him in your arms for a moment when Leia ushered him into the room for the first time a half an hour ago, but Luke wasn't focused then, and he definitely wasn't well enough to hold conversation with you. And the last time you saw him before today was many moons ago, before he left to become a Jedi.

Luke's face snaps up to yours. Your hand is warm and welcoming on his arm, and he wants more than anything to lean into your touch, but he still feels uneasy, like he's unsure if that would be okay with you, for some reason. The recent revelations about his parentage have left him uncomfortable with himself, even if you don't know yet. If you'll ever know.

Meanwhile, your eyes rake over his features. His lip is split and he has a gash and an impact mark across his cheekbone just under his left eye. The reunion between the two of you is soured by defeat and injury, but despite yourself, when he gazes up at you, part of you insists he looks good. Really good. You linger too long on the cut on his mouth before you force yourself to snap out of it.

"Hey," you whisper. For some reason, you're embarrassed. You haven't spoken to him in a long time.

Luke has the audacity to crack a tiny smile up at you from where he's sitting, just for a moment. He breathes out your name and leans his head against your side where you're standing next to him.

"I have a headache," he says, more like he's thinking out loud than anything. It's an excuse he's made for himself to lay against you even for the briefest time, but it's also true. His head pounds.

Luke pulls away and lifts his face back up to look at you again. There's an emotion that you've never seen before behind his eyes. "Sorry," he says quietly, like it's an afterthought. Only he seems to know why he's apologizing.

"You should go lay down again. I-I can help you with the rest of your injuries and you can rest," you say.

"You’re right," Luke sighs, and stands up shakily. He doesn't stumble, but you put a steadying hand on his back anyway, just to remind him that you're there.

The short walk back to his cot is silent. It's awkward. You know you shouldn't ask about what happened, that Luke will tell you when he's ready, but you don't know what else to say, so you say nothing.

When you do start speaking, your words just sort of tumble out. You're talking to fill the space. Luke has never been this quiet before.

"Here," you gesture, "sit on the edge of the bed. I know I said you could lay down, but I'm worried you're concussed, so maybe you shouldn't fall asleep. You said you have a headache. Do you think you have a concussion?" you ask, as if he'd know.

For his part, Luke just shakes his head at you. "I'll be alright," he insists. He doesn't know if he believes it, but he can't think of anything else to tell you to make you feel better.

Right, you think. Stubborn. Luke occasionally has a sense of over-confidence about himself, you've seen it when he talks about piloting or whatnot, and he's never been wrong about his limits, just cocky, but this time it seems almost put-on, like a show. You let it slide.

"I know," you say, and softly smile at him. When he halfheartedly returns your smile, it pulls on the cut on his lip, and you remember why you're here.

You retrieve a wet cloth and start dabbing at the sticky, tacky blood decorating his face. You take his chin in your other hand, and Luke closes his eyes while you wipe at the near-dried blood. His eyebrows knit when you get too close to a bruise, but he doesn't outwardly complain, and you move on swiftly.

Your heart is beating far too quickly given Luke's condition. He is seriously injured, and clearly went through something not only physically horrible but also mentally taxing back in Cloud City, but he's gorgeous right now.

The way his hair is parted and tousled reminds you of what he's looked like in the past, under much more pleasant circumstances. You don't know what you are to Luke; you have an absolute raging crush on him and he obviously likes you too, but he leaves to go off on his own. A lot. The two of you never talk about it. If you acted on your arousal, it actually wouldn't be the first time you'd have slept with him after he narrowly escaped death, but this feels... different.

Luke breathes out a little sigh as you glide the cloth across his cheekbone. Your stomach ties itself in knots, and you freeze.

He notices that you've paused your ministrations and opens his eyes, looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are the clearest you've seen from him today, and just as blue as always. You panic a bit, hoping he can't perceive your inappropriately-timed desire.

"I need to grab some bacta," you mutter, and remove your hand from his chin.

This time when you return, he keeps his eyes open.

Luke can sense something from you, but he isn't sure what. His relationship with the Force isn't in the best shape, but he knows you've been thinking very hard about something and he's almost afraid to find out what.

“You must be sick of taking care of me," Luke ventures as you carefully apply the bacta gel to a cut on his forehead. "Ever since you got to know me, I just keep getting hurt.”

He says it in that tone he uses when he's making a dry joke that isn't a joke at all.

“Hey, I’ll always help clean you up," you reassure.

"At least both sides of my face will be even now," he continues, referring to the scarring on his left side from the Wampa attack earlier that year.

"You look– you look good," you stutter out, finding yourself shy again. Luke doesn't even take the compliment before he keeps going.

“You’re not put-off?”

“By what?”

It's quiet. Luke doesn't answer. You realize he's talking about the fact he lost his hand in the battle. You sink down to sit next to him, forgotten bacta pack dropped to the floor.

"Luke, no, I don't think–"

“He said some things about me…" Luke trails off, and you know the unnamed he in that sentence means Vader. "I’m worried I’ll turn out like him. That I’ll fall to the dark side. But I can’t stand by and do nothing, I can’t,” he insists, passionate.

“You’re not like him."

Luke looks down at his feet, unconvinced.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, meaning to comfort him, watching a blush spread over his features.

"You're not him, okay?" you reaffirm, face feeling heated. Your hands slide over his arm and down his back in a reassuring motion. You intended to pull away to get more bacta, but Luke leans into you.

"Can I–?" he asks softly. You nod, and he catches your mouth in another kiss.

He's overeager, teeth clacking against yours as he licks into your mouth and tries to get as close to you as bodily possible. In contrast, you try to stay gentle, refusing to even playfully nip at him like you otherwise might. The gash on his upper lip splits open anyway, sending him a shock of pain that should stop his motions, but he just groans into your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"You're bleeding!" you exclaim as taste blood and break away from him.

"S'okay," Luke whines, protesting your concern. It's evident how much he doesn't want to stop; he follows you as you pull away, tilting forward. You ignore the rush of arousal flooding your system at his shameless display and grab a bit of gauze and press it to the scrape.

"Look, it's fine. See?" Luke asserts when there's hardly even a few drops of his blood on the cloth as you remove it. Obviously vying to kiss you again.

It's hard to resist him and his pleading puppy-like eyes. You press a quick peck to his forehead.

"Hold still," you say, "I need to put a bit of bacta on that so it heals." It's the justification you're using, because if he keeps kissing you, you're going to lose control and the little scrape will never heal. Luke decides to give in to you as the voice of reason.

"There," you state when you've finished with his face. "Now..." you trail off, eyeing the gashes through the fabric of his fatigues and once again feeling bizarrely nervous, "You should. You should take your shirt off next."

"Right," he sighs, feeling unsure. He reaches up with his left hand and starts undoing the fastens on his shirt.

"I could help you?" you offer softly.

"Sure," he nods.

You gently help him out of his shirt, careful of the cut in his upper left arm and scrape across his elbow that tore through even the fabric of the shirt. The shirt is falling apart, burned in places and ripped in others, and you sort of drop the fabric off to the side, unsure if it's salvageable.

When you look back up, the breath feels like it's been punched out of you.

Luke was always lean, a scrappy sort of muscular but this is new. You remind yourself you haven't seen him in months and that he's been off doing stars-know-what during his Jedi training. Behind the bruises and scrapes, he's built a bit of muscle, more defined than last time. Your eyes dart across his body; his arms alone have you biting your lip, feeling more butterflies in your stomach than ever before.

Luke catches you looking at him, catches you eyeing him up and down like you'd like to devour him, and he just gazes back at you. The blush on his cheeks from earlier never went away.

You convince yourself to slow down and wipe the dried blood off his arms and torso. There's no way to avoid how close the two of you are; you've practically wormed your way into standing between his legs as you dab bacta on the cuts and bruises that litter his midsection. Shamefully, you think about how good he smells, sweat be damned.

Luke audibly groans when you slide your hand across his shoulders in preparation to hold his arm up while you apply the medical salve. Your fingers dig slightly in to his sore musculature and he can't hold back.

"Sorry," you choke out, "want me to stop?"

"Mm-mm. Feels good, actually."

You feel another crack in your resolve form as you slather bacta along his cuts and bruises.

Luke is far enough gone himself, and you try not to notice. His breathing rate increased the second you started touching him, and he knows a hard-on would be ill-timed right now, but he kind of doesn't care that he can feel a tent beginning to form in his pants. It's a welcome distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, and he really, really missed you. The feeling of your hands on his body is unparalleled, so welcome and warm.

The logical choice of waiting even a day in order to prevent his wounds from re-opening is losing appeal for him.

You, however, continue to grasp onto logic. Not meeting his eyes as you finish applying the bacta, you step away from him and turn to fiddle with the medkit.

“Okay, I think it's alright for you to lay down now. I’ll go so you can rest," you say. You don't want to leave him, but it's the responsible thing. You'll go lay in your own bunk and mind your own business. He's hurt, he needs repose, he– 

“Don’t go.”

Not turning around, you go to answer. “Luke, you need—"

“I need you,” Luke insists, desperately. He reaches out and grabs your wrist lightly, like he moved without thinking.

It's very calculated, however, when you turn around and he raises your hand to his cheek and plants a kiss on the palm of your hand.

"Please?" he breathes, eyes wide, looking up at you and begging. His hand hasn't left yours where it rests on the side of his face.

“Oh, baby,” you sigh adoringly, your heartbeat in your throat and your determination to let him alone long gone as you return to stand in between his spread legs. You'd normally settle down on his thighs and grind against him, where you know Luke likes you best, but right now you're sure to be gentle as you can. You're a bit worried about whatever unknown bruising could be beneath the pants he didn't even get off before he couldn't resist you anymore.

“Kriff, it’s been so long. Missed you,” Luke mutters against your mouth between kisses.

"Yeah?" you ask, losing the brain capacity to answer coherently as Luke buries his face in the crook of your shoulder and sucks a kiss into the juncture of your skin.

Any gentle peck you try to give Luke turns dirty as he doubles down in passion every time, almost refusing to let any kiss end until the two of you are gasping for air. He's desperate to touch you, and yes, your hands are cradling his face and he loves it, but you're still somewhat leaning away from him, standing over him as he sits in front of you. He wants.

It's accidental, what happens next. You feel a sudden pressure against your lower back that nudges at you until you tip forward, catching yourself just inches before you would have fallen against Luke, your knee coming to rest in between the junction of his legs. In your new position, he immediately grinds his hard cock on your thigh, the drag of his sizeable length suddenly against you. It's accidental, but it's what he needs.

You break the kiss and gasp. The Falcon hasn't shifted out of hyperspace and you're not off-balance.

"Baby?" you inquire, the question unspoken. Did you just use the Force to move me? Many of Luke's abilities are new. If it was him, it was a recent development, at least in your experience.

"'m sorry," Luke whines, "I didn't mean to– I don't know what happened," but even as he says it, he's practically fucking himself against you, the strain of his bulge in his khaki pants borderline painful.

You're too turned on to even admonish him. You wouldn't if you could. You liked it, liked how his growing desire for you was overwhelming him to the point of losing control.

"Need me that bad?" you tease.

You hardly expect a response, but Luke keens and thrusts hard against your leg, his cock aching and his voice catching on a moan. "Ah-h!! Angel, I told you I do," he mewls. The flush on his face is as red as you've ever seen him.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo as you sink down onto the floor. Unable to resist, you shove your nose against Luke's clothed cock, inhaling his scent and mouthing at him over his disgusting khakis.

"Oh that's– you don't have to–" Luke starts, squirming.

"Want to," you answer, kissing and licking at his bulge until the fabric covering him is damp, from his dripping cock or from your mouth, you aren't sure. His dick throbs, straining painfully against his clothing. "Wanna see your pretty cock even more though," you continue.

You don't have to tell him twice. He scrambles to unzip his pants and you help him, pulling his flushed cock from the confines of his underwear. It bobs against his stomach and smears pre-cum across his torso, across his newly-defined abs. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and lick a bit of the pre-spend off of him, which only makes his erection kick and leak more.

You place an open-mouthed kiss to his cock as you move lower, and then take him into your mouth.

"F-fuck! Your mouth, oh, you ffeel s' ohh," Luke exclaims, incoherent when you first take him into your throat, fisting the rest of his cock in your hand as you bob up and down on him. He almost thrashes, hips jerking forward and hand coming to rest in your hair, not pulling just there, a guiding weight that has you moving at an even pace, sucking at the head of his cock and popping off of him every once in a while to kiss the underside or tip of his member and make him writhe underneath you. Your cunt clenches around nothing when he moans or squirms for you.

As you slide your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip, his body jerks. He fucks his cock against your lips and his hips stutter against your mouth, like he can't take one second without you.

"Stars, baby, like my mouth that much?"

"I like all of you that much."

His declaration is unbearably hot, and you reward him by deepthroating him as far as you can take him, throat constricting around him and your eyes watering.

Luke inhales sharply, surprised by your sudden action.

“S-stop.”

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pulling off of him, immediately conscious of his delicate state and concerned he's started bleeding or something like that.

“'m close. Almost came,” Luke admits shyly, looking off to the side and not meeting your eyes. He still isn't quite comfortable with how fast his body finishes with you, even though you've told him several times how much his eagerness and sensitivity turned you on.

“That's the point, right?” you affirm lightly, running a hand up his thigh. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Luke looks at you, blushing fiercely. “I don't wanna cum yet at all," he whines, softly guiding you up from your kneeling position on the floor. He kisses you, absolutely claiming your mouth before he nuzzles his face into your neck, "I don't want this to be over," he confesses, and he sounds both desperate and a bit sad.

"Doesn't have to be," you say, settling into a somewhat more dominant role, but keeping your tone is still gentle. He's liked it in the past when you take the lead, so you try it out. "Tell me what you want."

The shift in your attitude has Luke suddenly shameless, pressing himself bodily against you until the two of you can't honestly get any physically closer.

"I wanna be inside you. I-inside your pussy,” he whines.

His words send shockwaves up your spine and you bite your lip, clenching around nothing.

"A-and," he chokes out, rutting against your thigh like he's an animal, "I want you to make me wait."

You won't make him clarify the last part. You're plenty aware that's his way of asking you to edge him, to control his orgasm so he doesn't finish 'too soon', a game you've played before with him, and he's already shy about it. It makes sense right now, especially since you're basically letting him use you like a distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, that he doesn't want this to end.

"Ask me nicely," you urge.

"Please can I fuck your pussy?" Luke gasps.

"Fuck yes, oh my god," you answer, kissing him and shoving your pants and undergarments off and straddling his lap. "Need your fingers first though. C'mere," you grab at his hand and pull his digits along your slit.

Luke almost wants to groan in protest, feeling suddenly very impatient, but he practically chokes as he runs his fingers through your wetness. His eyes roll back in his head when he slips a finger inside of you, shocked at your state of arousal, and you loosely wrap your hand around his dick. He starts grinding against your hand immediately and you know you're going to have to slow him down eventually if he wants to last.

"Shit, u-um," he throws his head back to look up at you. "You're soaked. Just f-from having your mouth on me?" he ventures, feeling like he needs reassurance in this moment for some reason.

“Mm! Been– been getting like this since you started making those cute noises while I was patching you up.”

"Yeah?" Luke is soaking the praise up, working his fingers in and out of you and across your clit with as much focus as he can. He's inexperienced with his left hand, but you'd never guess. Your cunt is dripping around him down to his wrist.

"You make such perfect sounds, baby," you promise him. "Ah-h!" you exclaim when he brushes up against that spot inside you, "fuck, baby, keep going."

Luke nods against you. "Keep talking? Please?" he asks, so sweetly.

"I never get used to how big you are. You have such a pretty cock, Luke. Helping me first so I can even think about taking it."

He sinks two digits to the knuckles into you cunt and presses hard on your g-spot.

"Ohh-!! Baby!" you shout, caught off guard. "You're so good– so good, such a good boy f' me."

"C-close," he whines. He's already that far gone, even from this uncoordinated dry-humping half handjob, face a mess, dick literally twitching in your hand from the praise you're directing at him. You take your hand away from his cock since he asked to be denied. He makes no move to stop his motions on you, so you let him finger you open with his hand and play with you for a while longer.

When he's calmed down a bit and you do sink down onto him, your combined juices make a disgustingly lewd wet noise and you both breathe out moans. There's still a stretch; Luke is bigger than most, and you haven't had anyone since he left. You haven't had anyone else since the first time with him, at all.

“I-I was bad," Luke suddenly states as you work to take his length inside your dripping core. Any position takes work to fit his cock in your cunt, but riding him takes the most.

“Oh honey, no, you feel amazing for me,” you reassure, both remembering his insecurity earlier and thinking about how full his cock is making you feel.

“Nno I– don't mean. I mean..." he breathes and pauses, "I thought about you whi-while I was training. I wasn’t supposed to."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently.

"Not 'posed to have attachments. Feelings," Luke gasps, thrusting up once into your soaked cunt before his hips settle into a slow grind. He's toying with the edge of your shirt that you forgot to take off earlier, running his hand tentatively under the seam. He's shy, not meeting your eyes again even though he's literally inside you right now. In a way, you understand that he's confessing something very secret to you and you're reeling a bit.

'Missed you," he says earnestly for the second time this evening when you don't say anything back right away. His gaze finally lands on yours and something is electric in the air. He's practically given you his love confession several times in the last hour but this feels different.

"I don't think that's bad," you say, barely above a whisper. "Not at all. I missed you too," you kiss him again, rolling your hips.

And then, “What’d you think about?” because you can't resist.

Luke's hips go back to a stuttering pace, alternating between grinding up into you and the occasional rogue thrust, like he's holding himself back.

"Uh-uhm," he falters, fighting self-consciousness at sharing his fantasies, but the words start spilling out of his mouth anyway, "The way you smile at me when you're f-flirting. What it feels like to kiss you. A-and I thought about your hands and what they feel like on me. When you hold me, or... or when they're wrapped around- ugh m-my cock."

You gasp, but Luke continues without pause.

"How I wanna fuck you slow in bed in the morning. I'll be good. I-I can make it good f' you. Worth waking up early for," he promises. It's startlingly domestic, but before you can linger on it, he keeps going. "Missed your– haa, ah, your pretty tits, too."

"What about them?"

"How gorgeous they are. How you look when you don't wear a bra. C-can't look away."

"You wanna see?" you ask, surprised he hasn't asked you to take your shirt off earlier.

Luke whines, eyes hooded as he nods. "Please."

You practically throw your shirt off and unclasp your bra in record time.

You shift, pushing your chest towards him where he sits, as a desire to give him everything he's ever wanted burns inside of you. He deserves it. He's supposed to have been solely concentrated on learning to be a Jedi– and he clearly has been training– but on top of it, all he's admitting to focusing on not only just some ancient mystic wisdom but also on you, too. You think you love him.

You run your fingers across the nape of his neck and pull on his golden locks, guiding him towards your tits.

You roll your hips against him, pussy clenching around him as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and moaning with every breath.

"Fuck! D-don't move like that. I-I'll cum. M'gonna cum."

"Want you to," you say, but you stop your motions anyway.

"N-not yet," he chokes out. "You haven't– I want it to be good for you," drooling against your tits.

“Stars, you're so sweet. Look how good you’re being for me right now,” and he is being good. He’s being so good, so considerate, and your pussy involuntarily tightens around him again at the thought.

"O-oh shit, I can't take it, I c-can't fucking take it," Luke voice shakes, and in an impressive show of strength for his current state, he pulls out of you and flips your positions so you're laying on the cot and he rests on his knees between your thighs. He doesn't push back inside you; his cock rests against your clit, and he distracts you by leaning down to kiss you for a moment. It's his way of stalling; you know he needs a moment to hold back from finishing.

Even though it feels nice, the contact is not enough, not when you've had a taste of him inside your walls already, and you let yourself paw needily at him, trying to get him to slip in.

"You're as bad as I am, aren't you?" Luke huffs lightly, amused.

"Yeah," you breathe "I just want you, so bad."

“I– I thought I might've sensed that,” Luke says, almost sounding smug momentarily, happy with your response, "through the Force, but I- I wasn't sure if it was just my own desire," he drops that absolute bombshell on you before he mercifully slips back inside you and sets a rapid pace. Your hands fly above you to brace yourself against the wall of the nook.

"S-shit! Baby! Y-you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Luke groans, dropping his head and trying to formulate a coherent response. "Kind of. It's more like I feel... intentions, if you think really hard about something, I-I can sense–"

Your eyes flutter closed, and the way your cunt tightens around his dick cuts Luke off completely. You're rapidly spiraling towards your own high, his words and his cock wrecking you.

All your energy goes into projecting as much lust as you possibly can at him; you're running through every fantasy you've ever had, every dirty thought about him that's ever crossed your mind in an effort to get him to pick up on your emotions. It works, and Luke has to catch himself with his hand before he collapses on top of you.

"Haah, ahh," he whimpers, "That's- that's- y' feel like that about me?" he asks, his eyes rolling back in his head. He's positively losing control, his hips grinding into yours as he pounds into your pussy.

"Yes," you insist, "god, Luke, you fuck me so good, don't fucking stop."

Luke's cute little whines are coming more frequently, his thrusts more erratic, but he doesn't stop. You know him well enough to know he's not going to be able to hold off much longer, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his thighs nearly shaking with effort. Your own high is rapidly approaching.

"Close?" you ask.

"Y-yeah, been close," Luke answers with a bit of humor. “Please let me make you cum first. I just wanna make you cum first,” he cries out, pussydrunk and unable to think of anything other than his and your impending orgasm.

He sits upright again, pulling you in one swift motion by your hips to meet his, then rubs at your clit, circling you. The last inch of his cock slotting into you and the extra stimulation is the only thing you needed to push you over the edge, grinding down on him and yelling his name.

When you come down seconds later, you're met with Luke's gasping moans and begging. He's lost any self control he was able to display before, falling apart in front of you and inside you.

"Ah-haah, fu-fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, am I allowed– can I cum inside you? Please can I cum in you?" he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers in his.

"Oh Luke, give it to me, baby, please!"

He groans, accompanied by a nearly incoherent mumbling of your name as he spills inside you, hand squeezing yours. His cock gives a jolt inside of you and the feeling of being filled by his spend makes you topple over the edge again, overstimulated. There's so much of his cum that you feel it drip down your thigh before he even pulls out and you wonder when the last time he let himself cum was at all. He curses and cries out under his breath when you tighten around him a second time, aftershocks still traveling through his body as he collapses next to you in the tiny alcove of the wall.

"Love you," he confesses in a hushed tone as he settles there against you, his face tucked shyly into your shoulder.

"Love you back. You have me," you answer with a quiet confidence. When he looks at you, you see the tiniest pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

"Hey," you run a hand along his back, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah," Luke nods against you. It will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I don't know how clear I've made it but when I was writing this I was imagining reader and Luke having a sort of on-again-off-again thing (due to the whole Jedi training and extended amounts of time apart) in the past, and that she'd mayyyybe also "comforted" him after Hoth, mayhaps one day I write a prequel to this fic? idk yall know me and following through so no promises lol

[pinktrashgoblin]

“I’m on my hands and knees,

I want so much to believe.” (/lyr)

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This chapter took quite a bit longer than I’d hoped ^^” had to deal with major art block, loss of motivation and several small crises in real life, but we are SO back! Hoping the next one doesn’t take as long.

btw, y’all can’t hold me accountable for everything that happens in this chapter. I am NOT LIABLE bc YALL SIGNED UP FOR THIS/silly

[angelsarrm]

ooh ya know whar my mind just had a genius idea. patrick and pete and andy and joe at the Aquarium (and patrick talking bout the marine animals 💕)

they love taking patrick to the aquarium LOL

[ask-garymiller]

do you ever miss heaven, or are you happier in hell?

(sorry if this is a heavy question for a silly askblog but i’m curious)

I wouldn't say I love it, but I don't regret the rebellion. It's what you people would call "the lesser of two evils" as funny as that is.

At least, I'm enjoying my freedom in Hell.

[colfy-wolfy]

Woe, Spider-Slug be upon ye!

spiderslug real

[petrodragonicapocalypse]

Magma

folk/acoustic cover by me and @bennie4twenny. original song by King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard.

me: vocals, violin, flute, tin whistle, bow bass

bennie: percussion, acoustic bass, mandolin, ukulele, kalimba, backing vocals, cover art, production

[bumpintheroad]

Could we see your toy collection?

♡ my pretty little play things ♡

[wuvrevue]

KING, QUEEN && JACK ALL JOIN THE FUN

rb & credit if using , happy birthday @lumieron

[hiro-doodlez]

Kidcore fresh request by @shynetyme06 HEHEHEHE

ALSO @jamfilleddrawlings requested like a month ago for fresh sooooo

[judeiscariot]

I recently started listening to CSH and famous prophets (stars) is one of my favorites out of everything I’ve heard so far. I’ve seen you mention it on here a couple times and I’d love to hear more about your interpretation of it! Only if you feel like it of course lol but I’m not great at lyric analysis stuff and I’m super interested

hi yes i’d love to talk about it!!! i’ve been wanting to do a line by line of this song for forever so thanks for asking <3 (fair warning though this is gonna be really long)

this song is sort of the last 'event' on the twin fantasy timeline, even though it's more of a summary. it's the culmination of everything that this story has been building up to. it's a breakdown in every sense of the word. like many songs in twin fantasy and will's body of work at large, it has an insanely ambitious structure that's hard to even nail down. it's made up of around six parts but it's basically impossible to even separate into choruses/verses/bridge, etc, so i'm just gonna go section by section:

much like the first track on the album, this song starts off with a really simple, isolated bassline before will's voice comes in softly. the first thing the speaker does is apologize to the idealized future versions of himself and his partner who he had become attached to. he had all these wonderful visions of what their life together might look like, but he's finally realizing that none of that is ever gonna happen, and things are quickly coming to an end. the 'ripping of the tape' could refer to an audio tape, a reference to how the original version of this album was a lot rougher in terms of sound quality, and will has said before that he prefers the smoother, more professional sound of face to face as opposed to the lo-fi of mirror to mirror. the tape could also be what's metaphorically holding the relationship together, and it's finally failing. the speaker knows the relationship is falling apart, but the realization doesn't make it any less painful. in the final line, he shifts the blame to the subject, in a coy and resigned sort of way.

the bruises represent the speaker and his partner - painful, brought on through trauma, lesions that the speaker carries around physically on his body. 'kicking the back of the seat in' probably refers to the fact that most of the vocals for will's early projects, including twin fantasy (mtm) were recorded in the backseat of his car, hence the band name. the speaker has sort of embodied the role of 'emotional punching bag' throughout the story (you can text me when punching mattresses gets old), and the bruises, or the pain the speaker was caused through the relationship, were something he wore with pride as though they represented the burdens he was willing to shoulder for love of his partner. but the bruises are fading now, healing, steering the speaker towards the metaphorical 'healing journey' he will embark on after being set free from the expectations and needs of this person. the vocals up until this point are soft, almost spoken-word, but here we crash into a jarringly intense instrumental that totally shifts the tone.

this part is buried beneath the instrumentals, almost inaudible, but it's so important. i see this as the speaker encouraging his past self, who this album is sort of dedicated to, not to spend too much time lamenting over the end of the relationship, because everything is gonna turn out alright even though it feels like the end of the world. even still, the speaker knows his past self wouldn't listen to this advice if he could hear it.

an experience like the one conveyed through this album is very much confined to teenagers/adolescents. it's essential that the speaker and his partner are fumbling young people with underdeveloped brains. there are certain emotions and ways in which we see the world as teenagers that inevitably dampen when we become adults. even if the speaker and his partner, now grown, were to touch each other like they used to, they wouldn't be able to access the emotions that were conjured by their teenage brains. the speaker and his partner are no longer in contact, sure, but they've lost access to one another in more ways than one. the speaker likes to think that he remembers what it was like to be with his partner physically, but he gives just about the vaguest and most generic description of a human body that he possibly could, literally trailing off at the end like he can't name anything beyond a few body parts. he doesn't actually remember specifics about this person at all.

the speaker questions whether the deterioration of the relationship was his fault, if he could have done something different, been better, saved it somehow. at the same time, he's realizing that he couldn't have, and wondering if this whole thing, that he dedicated all this time and stress and agony and love and joy to, was a complete waste of time, simply because it was destined to fail. throughout this verse, the speaker is coming to terms with the end of the relationship while simultaneously resisting it. it's pretty clear that there have been a good few 'breakup scares' at this point, and the speaker isn't sure if this is the real, true, final end. is this how life is going to be from now on? waking life feels like a bad dream, and he's walking around wondering if this person is, or ever was, his, if they're truly gone. 'the great silence' is the enormous canyon that opens between two people who have just ended a relationship as intense and intimate as this. they go from indescribable closeness to functioning like complete strangers, and it would give anyone whiplash, but especially a teenager who had never felt truly loved or understood before this person. this relationship has been so unsteady that even once significant time has passed since the end, he still sometimes wakes up with the hope that he might roll over and see his former partner next to him.

will refers to himself as both 'nervous' and 'a wreck' multiple times in this album, and in several other places throughout his discography. it's kind of a recurring motif. this may also be a callback to 'the bell jar,' one of the first tracks will ever released, before he was even making music as car seat headrest. as far as 'naming names' goes, this is probably a reference to the fact that he did in fact call cate wurtz by name in famous prophets (minds) in the mtm version of the album. cate wurtz is a comic artist and the author of the lamezone series, and she may or may not be the subject of twin fantasy. i find theories about the real life person who might be the inspiration for this album largely irrelevant and uninteresting, nevermind unimportant to my personal interpretation of the album, so i'm not gonna linger on that aspect of it. the last line is probably a reference to this song's counterpart. famous prophets (minds) ends with a spoken word recitation of 1 kings 19:11 - 12. the actual final lines of the verse are as follows: "But the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper." in the song, the final line is changed to "And after the fire, a sound of sheer silence." right before will says 'silence,' the music cuts out completely.

by this point in the song, it seems like the narrator has fully accepted that the relationship has come and gone whether he likes it or not. this person has faded into and subsequently out of his life, as people often do. there's nothing more to be said, it's all over, there's no getting around this.

now we slide into the seminal refrain of this song. even though in the previous verse, it seemed like he had fully accepted the end, now he's crying and screaming and begging to go back. the end of a relationship like this is obviously going to cause some extreme inner turmoil and it's not gonna be a smooth transition for the people involved. the vocals here are kind of agonizing - it gets more and more intense until he's more or less howling. even after the final repetition, he goes on yelling and crying under the instrumentals. what is the speaker even begging to go back to? when the relationship was new and full of promise? before the two of them ever met in the first place? if he could go back, would the speaker do things differently, or does he just want to live out the events of the relationship again exactly as they happened, so he can cling to the fleeting moments of joy and hope that were there, even though he knows how things are going to end? at the end of all this, he asks his former self again not to spend too much time on it, which is somewhat ironic. once he's done yelling, the instrumentals quiet down almost entirely to just the bassline that was present at the beginning, with the occasional guitar note.

the speaker didn't want his partner to develop too high an opinion of him. even though this whole album is literally about his ridiculously high opinion of this person, he's anxious at the idea of his partner thinking of him the same way. he doesn't want to disappoint him. the speaker also asks his partner not to joke about his own death - this is the only person he's ever felt truly loved or understood by, and the speaker desperately doesn't want to lose him.

the speaker urges his partner to keep it together. because he cares about him deeply, yes, but also because he's not sure if he'll be able to give his partner the support he'd need if he truly lost it. the 'art' he mentions is likely a reference to the art of cate wurtz, but like i mentioned above i'm not interested in diving too deep into that whole deal.

now we're back to the seminal refrain of twin fantasy itself. the whole 'beach' theme is a frequently recurring motif in will's work as far back as the numbered albums. the 'grave' is the place the speaker is trying to lay his feelings for this person to rest, and the ocean is...everything. life, the universe, any given day-to-day experience that might bring up feelings of this person again. no matter what the speaker does, this situation affected him so deeply that his feelings will keep resurfacing over and over again long after the relationship has reached its conclusion.

the refrain continues in the background as the instrumentals build in intensity and will starts to shout over himself. when an artist’s work begins to gain recognition, whichever piece it was that initially drew the attention of large crowds of people may become their 'holy grail,' so to speak. if a particular song gets a singer famous, or a particular painting gets a painter famous, they might lean on the themes and techniques they used when creating that particular piece in an attempt to create another piece which draws similar attention. this leads them to 'descend into cliché' and create work with less creative integrity. the grave symbolism continues, and now at the emotional climax of the album, the speaker says he might ‘fill it in,’ signifying that he has reached some sort of emotional resolution. he is hammering in the nail to ensure that the coffin remains shut tightly, so he can finally move on with his life and walk away from these emotions which have consumed him. 'i could give you what you deserve' may be a reference to the oft repeated line ‘art gets what it wants and art gets what it deserves,’ which pops up throughout will's work. the speaker comments on the fact that he could continue to make music about this relationship, that he could ‘watch the hammer swerve,’ as he attempts to metaphorically nail the coffin shut, i.e. watch himself fail in his attempts to move on from the emotions he has drowned so many times in.

the mirror symbolism is a direct reference to the original version of this album, with the 'mirror' symbolizing the relationship between the speaker and his partner. i've talked about the 'mirror to mirror' vs 'face to face' images before, but i'll summarize it again here: the first image is one of two mirrors facing each other, creating an endless tunnel of reflection between two people who can only see themselves in the other. the face to face image is one of two people regarding each other, recognizing the other while existing as separate bodies. the mirror breaking is the transition between mirror to mirror and face to face. the fantasy is shattered, and will is now at a very different place in his life than when the original version of this album was written. he's decidedly beyond his adolescence, and he no longer sees his partner as a mirror. he wouldn't trade anything for this absolutely necessary change in perspective. 'blackstar' is probably either a reference to the david bowie album of the same name, or the radiohead song of the same name. 'painstar' is explicitly a reference to cate wurtz's work. basically, it's a concept from the lamezine comics of a star/entity which only comes around once every thousand years or so. when you touch it, you feel unfathomable pain, but only for a split second. i see the concept used as a metaphor for the pain of the relationship - was it worth the agony the speaker is currently in for the joy he once had? the vocals here once again grow increasingly intense as the speaker begs...someone, for something.

as the vocals descend in intensity, will mutters this, which is probably a reference to the bit in high to death that includes an audio sample from the movie adaptation of ray bradbury's 'all summer in a day.' it's a science fiction story which takes place on a planet where the sun can only be seen once every nine years. the main character, a girl named margot, is originally from earth, and remembers what the sun looked and felt like. the other children don't believe her, and lock her in a closet before the day the sun is supposed to show itself. when the sun does appear, the other children forget about her, and she remains locked in the closet. the sample included in the song is her calling "william! let me out! william! william! let me out, william!" margot is a stand-in for the speaker's partner, who is begging will by name to release him from the fantasy will has him trapped in. now the roles are reversed and the speaker is begging his partner to let him inside the locked closet. despite all the speaker’s efforts, the two of them still somehow end up on opposite sides of the door. will wants his partner to let him in, so that they may at least be in the dark together. 

the instrumentals quiet down once again so that will is singing over a simple piano tune. this verse replaces the lyrics in the original version of famous prophets which called cate wurtz by name. in the original version, these lyrics were buried, whereas these are at the forefront, accompanied by almost no instrumentals. it's impossible for the listener to miss these. in the first ‘descend into cliché’ verse will mentioned that he could 'sing another song' as a sort of coping mechanism or way of dealing with the end of this relationship, so the 'music forsaking you' could refer to the speaker's coping mechanisms not being enough to comfort him in the aftermath of the relationship. rolling the stone over the grave is the same deal as will 'hammering in the nail' in an attempt to seal off his feelings about the relationship. this also evokes some biblical imagery, with how the entrance to the tomb of jesus was blocked with a huge stone. on the other hand, he could stare his feelings in the face, confront them head on and learn to cope. 'when the levee breaks' is probably a reference to the led zeppelin song 'if the levee breaks.' it seems like will is referencing several well-known musicians while thinking of his own 'prophecy' for his music career. this could be a reach, but the stone line might also be a reference to the rolling stones if we're going with this interpretation. the final line might refer to the fact that, even though these bands were and are incredible famous, the music industry is a cyclical entity and all famous bands will eventually fade out of the spotlight.

that 'what happened to you' might be a reference to leonard cohen's 'death of a ladies man.' will is a big leonard cohen fan and references to his work pop up fairly often. but other than that this verse fades into a soft instrumental where the fractured pieces of what will eventually be the spoken word outro start to fade in:

these are snippets from 1 corinthians 13, and reesa mallen is the actress who played margot in all summer in a day. this is a direct quote from the verse, but will shifts the order of the lines around to depart from the original meaning. the intended message of this verse is basically that love is the key to everything, and that one cannot access great and miraculous things in the absence of love. this arrangement of the lines sort of suggests the opposite - that love enters your life and wrecks you on its way out, that no matter what sort of effort you put out, when love goes it will leave you with nothing. i'll talk a little more about the use of this verse when we get to the end.

this is the true ultimate climax of the song, and of the story as a whole. it's a fractured, distorted sample of my boy, the first song on the album. i can't even describe how crazy this actually sounds you gotta just listen to it. i've talked about this before but my boy is a pretty hopeful and optimistic way to open this album, and throughout the story all that optimism and hope has pretty much been crushed. to me, this part is where the speaker has a breakthrough of sorts and truly, truly understands that it's over, even though his feelings for this person will keep resurfacing, the relationship is crumbling in his hands and soon there will be nothing left at all. the only line from my boy that's not present here is 'we won't be alone,' so do with that what you will. this section is just so insane, the instrumentals and the desperation and rawness of the vocals, there's one or two moments in here where will's voice blends completely with a guitar note, it's incredible. one of the things i love most about twin fantasy is how it manages to take this experience that would generally be regarded as frivolous, unimportant, childish, naive, etc, and successfully convey how deadly deadly serious it feels in the moment. like when we break it down to its bare essentials this album is about an online relationship between two teenagers in 2009. yet it somehow adequately conveys the absolute utter and complete long lasting devastation a relationship like this can feel in a hormone-addled teenage brain. the emotions of teenagers and adolescents are very often brushed off as overdramatic and kinda made fun of in media in general, but just because adolescent emotions are affected by teenage hormones or whatever doesn't make them any less real. in fact i think being a teenager often makes interpersonal relationship experiences similar to this all the more visceral and painful. this part of the song is where that really comes through for me and i find it so incredibly cathartic. the sheer grandiosity of the instrumentals ties it all together, and the horn arrangement in particular is amazing. will uses horns a fair amount in his work and it's always beautiful, but something about this instance specifically just shakes me to my core, man. it's like he's wailing in agony with all the choirs of heaven behind him.

now the instrumentals quiet down and an unfractured recitation of 1 corinthians 13 fades in. this verse perfectly sums up everything this story is about, and the whole idea behind remaking the album in the first place. the speaker and protagonist of the album is an adult now, and he's had years to process these events by this point. he no longer views them through that addled adolescent lens, but he remembers what it felt like to be shaken to his core by this situation. even still, he now sees the relationship for exactly what it is. he no longer sees others as a reflection of himself. he's able to regard the person who he underwent all this agony for as a separate, independent being and understand that his perception of them was false. no matter one's age, it's often borderline impossible to grasp the full significance of important life events as they're happening. only with time and reflection can we truly come to understand and process how events have affected us and how we are changed in their aftermath. the speaker in mtm is clouded by raw emotion, and therefore only capable of knowing 'in part.' the speaker in ftf is more mature, has garnered more life experience, and evidently spent many painful hours working through these events. therefore, he now 'knows fully,' and with the ability to know fully comes the ability to be fully known, to be truly loved and understood as he never could while operating under the delusions fueling this relationship. the instrumentals drop off entirely for the final line, which is a slight alteration from the actual bible quote. the original is as follows: 'And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.' this change allows for ambiguity as to which of the three remain within the speaker. the change could also refer to the two versions of the album which now exist, or it could refer to the speaker and the subject as people.

so that's famous prophets (stars). it's an absolutely incredible song and if you've never heard it you really really should. you can only really get the full affect if you listen to the whole album straight through, but i know not everybody feels like doing that lmao, same as many people don't feel like listening to a 17 minute song in the first place. but i think this song is best heard in your room, in the dark, at night, played over a speaker, while you're maybe just a little too high. can't recommend enough.

[casualavocados]

SHOW YOUR COLORING tagged by @milkpansa thank you nini 🥰

i work the most with color balance, vibrance, select color, levels, and brightness. i enjoy working with dark scenes. a lot. you'd think i'm a bit of a masochist, and i do love the challenge, yet tbh sometimes they're easier for me than scenes that are lit brightly! bringing color back into washed-out scenes can be tougher than balancing the colors in a dark scene. but i've gotten so much better and seen myself grow, even in the last 8 months. for example, in this set: gifs 1 and 4 were scenes i had previously colored, back in december '22. here are their predecessors 1 (gif 3), & 2 (set). you can really see the difference!!

the discovery that i'm also getting better at correcting scenes that are mostly yellow, is something that makes me really happy, too, because that's what i used to struggle with the most while gifmaking.

i'm so grateful to be able to create in a space surrounded by other talented people, where i can learn, and grow, and share! @willsilvertongue, @coredrill and @guntapon - my forever tag list. ♥️ @cal-kestis, @bo-kryzze, @userneos, @justafriend-ql i would love to see your work showcased, if you're in the mood to do this. 💝

[yinyuedijun]

Boothill's CN VA is rumored to be the guy who is Welt's and Zhongli's CN VA 🧍‍♀️

WAIT A MINUTE WELT AND ZHONGLI HAVE THE SAME VA?????????? HRLSJAMFSLSJEFK WHY DOES WELT SOUND 10X HOTTER TO ME???? is it because I don't need to baidu baike half of his lines 😞

this is actually sending me though because boothill's face does NOT match welt's or zhongli's voices LMAOOLFKSJ maybe the VA has range though who knows 😭

[general-kalani]

I wonder, do any of the Far Cry muses know how to dance? If so, what styles of dance do they know?

Under a cut since I have so many muses for Far Cry sorry LMFAO-

Characters excluded as not knowing how to dance: Buck Hughes (No interest in dancing) Cameron Burke (No interest in dancing) Cain, Ethan, Jacob and John Seed (No interest in dancing) Rook (No interest in dancing) Reese Spoon (No interest in dancing) Staci Pratt (No interest in dancing) Jerome Jeffries (No interest in dancing) Ivanova (No interest in dancing)

~` Far Cry 3 ~` Earnhardt - Can 100% tango, those kinds of classical dances that are kinda slow. S O good at it.

Vaas - Considering that Far Cry 3 (and I did a brief bit of research on this so I might fuck it up) takes place near Indonesia, the dances listed here would be ones Vaas is very familiar with.

Hoyt - If it is to be believed that Hoyt was born in South Africa, then these dances are what he is most familiar with and is willing to teach!

Sam - Having spent a LOT of time in Germany (especially as a kid when he'd moved to Germany) he got to learn a lot of the traditional dances. Schuhplattler is what he's best at. (Video of it here)

~` Far Cry 5 ~` Faith - Tends to do spin dancing! (Mostly because of what he does in game a lot) but she's amazing at it.

Joseph - Tango and waltz is what he knows best and that's only because he was taught by Annabelle on how to do them.

Nick - Dancing? He only knows embarrassing ones for his family.

Sharky - Same as Nick, only does embarrassing ones.

Annabelle - Tango and waltzes are her favourite types to dance and the ones she had taught Joseph. She'd waltzed with Joseph on their wedding day.

Everett - ALSO the same as Nick and Sharky, though he has a lot more fun with it than embarrassing. Mostly done while playing his guitar.

Miller - Country dances are most common with Miller. Simple, wild, but he has his fun!

~` Far Cry New Dawn ~` Rush - He does his best to keep the 'old world' dances going! Tango, waltzes, etc are what he keeps alive.

~` Far Cry 6 ~` Diego - To not be a disappointment to his father, he's had to learn many dances. Though originating from Cuba, they persist even in Yara.