#time to rig in after effects!!! shit!!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING! i was wondering if you would do the kisses prompt #44 with patrick zweig? <3

*I'm not currently taking any more prompts from this list

44. Tentative kisses given in the dark

This wound up being much longer and far hornier than I originally intended

Warnings: Horny Chaos Gremlin Patrick; there was only one bed; dirty talk; masturbation; grinding; cumming in pants; enemies to enemies who fuck; smooches

Rating: Explicit, 18+ - minors, please get off my lawn

You'd been in a tight spot before, sure, but you never thought it would be this bad. Your mind was racing as you tried to imagine what people said when you turned up together, watched you get out of his car.

You'd been chagrined when he'd reached out to you on Tinder with a proposition, but as much as you hated to admit it, it had seemed like a decent idea. He had made good sense—you needed transportation, and you both money. Meeting up with him had cemented it further.

"Our styles would complement each other," He'd leaned across the bar as he'd insisted it, wholly ignoring what you'd considered your personal space, "We'll split the costs of the motel room and gas, take down the mixed doubles competition and split the prize money."

"And then what."

"And then you won't need to see me again. You'll want to, though."

His shit-eating grin had almost been as bad as finding out that the only available motel only had a single room available. Patrick hadn't even feigned an offer to take the floor, and there was no way in hell you weren't getting a good night's sleep before the first day of matches.

The first night hadn't been so bad—the two of you had managed to keep to your own sides of the somewhat narrow bed, and gotten ready without incident the following morning (though that likely had something to do with the fact that you got up to get ready at 5, and Patrick rolled out of his bed somewhere around 7:30, grumbling, only moving at your insistence that you didn't want to be late for check-in).

The two of you hadn't fallen into sync on the courts right away, but by the end of the day, you'd found a consistent rhythm. Every grunt of his, every encouraging yell of, "Let's go," every high-five, hip-pat, grin shot at you from beneath the sweep of his long lashes made your more and more grudgingly attracted to him.

You'd tried over and over to talk to Patrick about your form and tactics over your rest stop dinner, but he'd ignored you in favor of stuffing his face and cranking up the car radio.

Now, you felt him shifting beside you. It wasn't the first time—he'd been tossing and turning for the last ten minutes. It was another moment before he settled down. You drew in a deep breath, relieved. Finally, you could sleep. All you needed was a little peace, quiet, and stillness—

The sound and sensation of Patrick moving again made you clench your hand into a fist.

"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to stop you to the bed," You warned.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Zweig."

"I can't sleep."

"You've made that abundantly clear."

Another shuffling shift, and you felt the hot push of Patrick's breath against your neck.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"I'm begging you to shut the fuck up."

His quiet chuckle grated on you as much as it stoked the flare of attraction on your belly.

"We're not gonna talk?"

"I tried to talk to you in the car."

"I don't mean about the game."

"What else would we talk about?"

"Anything."

"Like our favorite ways to fall asleep?"

Patrick's teasing little hum made you realize that it was a stupid thing to say, but it was too late.

"I'm pretty fond of a good fuck."

"Of course you are."

"Or rubbing one out—Not as effective, but still a pretty good option."

"Uh-huh."

"...Okay." He shifted around again, and you felt the covers shoved away. You hesitated before you peered over your shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Rubbing one out."

"Right here?"

"Easier this way. I can fall right asleep after."

"You're just going to—Right next to me."

"Sure." Then, "You could, too, you know."

"I don't need to."

"Sure you do."

"Excuse me?"

"You need to loosen up. You're so uptight—it's throwing off your game."

"Bullshit."

"It isn't," He chuckled again, but it was different. There was a breathy edge to it now, and an undeniable soft shushing of his fist working in his boxers. You swallowed thickly, eyeing the opposite wall as you tried to ignore the heat rising in your skin.

"You're a real ass, you know that?" You gritted out.

"Keep going."

"What?"

"Keep talking."

"Just hurry up."

"You don't wanna talk? S'okay, you can listen—Mm, fuck," He groaned. Your stomach flipped at the sound, your thighs squeezing tight as your clit throbbed. "You wanna know what I'm thinking about?"

"Yourself, I assume."

"Those pictures of you on Tinder...I looked at 'em last time, too."

Last time. Why was the idea of Patrick jerking it over his phone as he swiped through your pictures so hot? "Nothing like having you here, though...You smell better than I thought you would."

"You smell like a pig. You act like one, too."

"Mm, but you like that."

"What the fuck makes you think that."

"You think I don't see you squirming over there?"

You bit your lip at the accusation, fingers curling and uncurling in the sheets. Damnit. You had been sleepy, but now you felt wide awake and wired. There was no way you'd be able to just doze off now—not quickly, anyway.

"Spent half the games today staring at your ass," He went on, seemingly uncaring of the battle you were mentally waging. "And when you ran back for that lob, your tits looked so—Mm, god. I thought they were gonna pop out. I wanted them to, right there in front of everybody...Show 'em to me?"

"What?"

"Bet your cute little nipples are so hard. C'mon, just for a second?...I can suck 'em if you want."

You drew in a deep breath, trying to steady your pounding heart. You weren't going to give into the goads, you weren't going to—

You rolled onto your back, shoving your nightshirt up with one hand as you grasped his hair with the other. Patrick moaned, rolling over and curling into you. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling it with his tongue as he began to shamelessly rut against your hip. You whimpered brokenly, arching up into his touch as you rolled your hips, grinding against the seam of your sleep shorts. Patrick lifted his head as he pushed himself to settle fully between your spread thighs.

"Can I touch you?"

It seemed like a silly question coming from the man that had just had his mouth on your breast, but you could feel the way he was holding himself over you—hips carefully still, despite the feeling of his cock twitching between the layers of fabric separating you.

"Yeah," You nodded, propping yourself up on your elbows, your chest brushing against his. "Yeah. Can I—"

"Yes." Patrick shoved his hand beneath the band of your shorts, groaning as he felt your slick, plumping pussy beneath his fingertips. He lowered himself closer, the heat of him almost crushing as he began to lay frantic kisses and sucks across your neck and breasts. You reached down, palming his ass and hauling him closer as his rough fingertips swiped your clit.

His lips skimmed your chin before they brushed against yours. The two of you went still, hands freezing in place as you seemed to reassess. You leaned up just a touch, pushing your lips against his more firmly. Patrick sighed, teasing his tongue between your lips as his fingers picked up their pace. You gave his ass a squeeze as he rutted against your thigh.

Patrick sloppily broke your kiss, panting against your lips as you chased his touch.

"Fuck, c'mon," He murmured, "I wanna feel it—I wanna taste you."

"Shit—" You shuddered as the familiar coiling in your belly snapped, sending your hips bounding against his fingers, pussy clenching as you came. You'd hardly felt the last wave of it before Patrick was pulling his hands up from your shorts, smearing his cum-slicked fingers against your nipple and taking the slicked skin into his mouth. You whimpered, stunned, as Patrick teased and toyed with the skin, his hips juddering against your thigh. You could feel the heated spill of the cum through his boxers, feel the hum of his groans against your skin.

You sagged back against the pillow as he slowed, rolling off of you. It was absurd to suddenly miss the heat of him, or to watch the retreat of his back as he went to the bathroom. You let your head loll back as you tried to center yourself, trying to ignore the slick, lingering pulse between your thighs as you pulled in deep, steady breaths to calm yourself down. You were so sleepy—you could figure out what the hell you just did in the morning.

You expected the dip of the mattress to be chased by the feeling of Patrick tossing and turning again, but he settled down, drawing in a deep breath.

"Night," He murmured, and you laughed, unable to help yourself.

"Night, Zweig."

[bowieandqueen11]

Seductress / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: Hi i was wondering if you could do an izzy x reader where lucius purposely tries to make izzy jealous (it works btw) the rest is up to you also could the reader have gender neutral pronouns so everyone can share the fun! Thank you for fueling the hyperfixation fire! Lots of love 💕

Aww lovely that's so kind of you, thank you!! I love writing Lucius being a little shit (affectionate) towards Izzy lmao we love a flirty bestie!

Warning: Nothing too graphic but NSFW, some sexual innuendos and some strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @dizzy-izzy-hands.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

You should have known rightly from that tell-tale smirk that Lucius had nothing good planned.

The man had barely been able to sit still all day. He seemed to have taken it upon himself to be as much of a nuisance as possible: must have unwrapped himself from Black Pete's arms that morning, sat up with wide stretching arms and a smile as ferocious as the jaded depths of Davy Jones' locker itself as he decided, with an assertive nod to the rest of the crew, to cause as much mischief as he could that day.

After all, Lucius, the king of pickpocketing, was more than acute at spotting stolen glances from miles away. Of noting darting looks; that morning, as he had sipped his orange juice and observed Izzy over the rim of his glass, it hadn't escaped his notice how he had almost- god, so he had been so close to not losing his nerve. He had warbled, almost swaying from side to side as Izzy plundered the depths of his mind to try and find the courage to sit and have breakfast on your other side, but as soon as you had raised your eyes curiously to see what he had been doing, he jolted back as if electrocuted and scurried off back to the deck. Lucius' sigh had been frustrated enough to blow bubbles of juice out and splatter them onto your already scowling face.

Nor had he missed the lingering wistfulness shrouding Izzy's eyes that same afternoon: the way he had watched you from the rigging of the Revenge, clinging onto the rope as if for dear life any time you passed him by. From helping Roach roll more barrels of dried meat down into the kitchen, or nearly keeling yourself over the edge of the ship to avoid Edward and Stede's impromptu sword fighting lesson, Izzy had been almost... calm. Placated? Silent? Bashful, Lucius thought, as he had watched the man's fist squeeze so tightly into a ball he thought the leather might tear down the seams right there and then. With a hand on his hip and a huff in your direction, Lucius was getting incredibly fed up of being the only one to notice how bashfully Izzy tried to look anywhere else when your eyes met. How your voice cracked when he had come sliding up to you, hammer looking quite menacing as he thumped it against his palm and asked you why you had made it your life's work to cross Izzy's line of vision any time you could.

'This has been going on for weeeeeks, when are you two just going to stop pretending you don't want to slam each other into the wall until you're gasping for air every time you see each other', he had groaned, throwing his head back and trying to beckon Wee John over to give his concerns some backing. The man, too busy sewing a hole in his trousers back together, and having enough sense to fear for his life with the way Izzy was glaring daggers his way, quickly shook his head and buried it back down in the mottled fabric.

'I have no idea what you're talking about', you had replied curtly, effectively ending the conversation. Even if he had flared his nostrils and thwacked you teasingly over the head with the long edge of his sleeve, a blind man would have been able to see the glimmer in your eye as you looked hopefully in Izzy's direction.

No, this man really did not miss a thing. And it was beginning to drive you insane.

Thankfully, he had been gracious enough to already warn you ahead of time about his brand new spanking plan to get this idiot of a first mate to admit his feelings for you. About how, once Stede had informed the crew that they would be stopping off on a little island called 'Tangerine Grove' during the sunset, so he and Ed could have their daily constitutional through the silver gleams cast by pale tree light only the rock hidden away behind the tip of Blindman's Cove could bring, a lightbulb had gone off in Lucius' head.

Which is how you had ended up here: shivering under the growing violet wisps of dusk that splattered the spring sky, sitting alone along an unfamiliar stretch of beach, wishing you could rescind your acceptance of Lucius' excited plan and instead go join your friends as they ran, barefoot, through the wet grains and wrestled each other into the waves. Only Izzy was still standing apart, looking entirely uncomfortable as he rubbed his jaw against his shoulder. Without even realising, he found his heel to be tapping a thousand miles per minute upon the ground: a horrid itching sensation spiking its way up his legs as he tried his best to look nonchalantly towards the dipping curve of the sun. To look anywhere else apart from at you. God, he fucking hated the way you made him feel so... fragile. So stunted. Even Edward had encouraged him that morning to try and express his lingering feelings to you, but a harrowing hatred had pierced his heart and caged the words from escaping their writhing chambers.

Hatred at how foolish he felt running away. Hatred at how Edward teased him, despite seeming like a lovesick idiot for a stupid twat that would be seem like shit scraped off the bottom of his boot compared to you. Hatred at how vulnerable he felt. Hatred for himself. For how he had been the harbinger of his own ruination. How, in the end, his misery was no one's fault but his own.

'Well now', Lucius enunciates in a sing song voice, clucking his tongue at the end. You almost jump out of your skin as he appears before you, drawn away from watching Izzy's face contort in flashes of fury as Lucius' torso replaces your view. His furrowed brow and pursed lips almost endue him with a sage like intensity, as he dips his head and shoots you an almost sympathetic frown.

He waggles his eyebrows as he perches down on the cragged rocks lining the shoreline next to you. 'What do we have here, then? Little Y/n, sitting here on this god forsaken rock with stupid arse over there too emotionally gagged to come keep you company. How tragic. Do you think the stick up his bum stops him from walking over here? Or maybe it's-'

'Lucius, you really don't have to do this.' You grab onto his arm, almost pleading with him through the frantic batting of your eyelashes, but Lucius just pats your fingers and intertwines them within his own. Laying your hands on his lap, he cocks his head and carefully strokes a path down your knuckles.

'Anything for my bestie', he winks, before glancing rather conspicuously behind his shoulder to trace Izzy's path. 'Besides, if that man doesn't just admit his feelings, one of us is going to end up kicking him up the arse. And as much as I would love that to be me, I want one of my favourite people in the whole world to be happy more. Trust me, I’m fantastic at forcing two knobheaded people to admit their true feelings for each other.'

’Oi, I'm not a kno-’, you try to retort with a roll of your eyes, but are stopped short by Lucius grabbing the bottom of your chin like crab pincers digging into your skin, and has already turned your face so your nose is lined up directly with his mouth.

'You know, it's been a long time since I sketched you.' His fingers dart up your face, walking their way up your cheek until Lucius brushed his knuckles back down to your jawline. 'If you like', he leans closer to you and purses his lips, 'we could fill the rest of Stede's journal right up.' He makes sure his voice is loud enough - sultry enough, that even Roach perks his head up from where he's laying starfish on the shoreline.

There we go.

Bingo.

A muscle in Izzy's tense jaw jumps: a minute twitch, but enough to let a far too smug looking Lucius know that he's on the right track.

'Or if that's not your jam, I know something else we can do', he leans in closer so his lips move against the shell of your ear with each word, and despite yourself your back rolls with shivers at the warm blows against your inner ear. 'Roach clued me in to some hidden compartments Stede had built into the ship. No more audience - just us, if you catch my drift', he finishes with an accentuating wink and kiss to the back of your hand.

The sound of a high pitched whistling even made Frenchie and the Swede pause their scuttling in the dirt for starfish, whipping their heads under their arms and burying themselves in the sand as they waited for the cannon fire to land. Nothing came, though. Instead, the sound only grew louder... and louder... until everyone was glancing uneasily up at the puffy clouds, waiting for a cleft to appear through the weaving pink breeze.

Only you and Lucius knew to look inland, rather than up at the heavens.

And there he stood: the incoming hit. The seething tempest. The washed up wreck.

The poor man was already fuming. If he bit his tongue an inch harder, the blood would begin to pour out of the corners of the man's mouth as if he had willingly swallowed arsenic, and was allowing it to fester in the recesses of his heart. Anything, anything would be better than letting it tremble. So blood it is. Down the poison willingly goes.

You would have been able to hear the sigh that blew out from Izzy’s flaring nostrils from the crow’s nest. Forget that: you’d be able to feel the burning steam radiating off his near vibrating body from the next continent. With each passing second Izzy could feel his heart decaying in pulsing oozes through his chest cavity. And with every smile, every lingering brush of someone else's fingers on your skin, the rot residing in his soul became that little bit more mutilating. The touch of Lucius' pointer finger against your cupid's bow finally goaded his insides to slither out in a body wracking convulsion: his heart finally mouldering out through the corner of his eyes in snaking tendrils.

He finds his feet pounding across the horizon before the rational part of his brain could try to keep up. Lucius barely has time to register the swarm of black buzzing in front of his face before claws have dug into his striped shirt and have hoisted him up like a ragdoll. The feel of Izzy's teeth baring against his nose is enough even to make Lucius' head recoil.

'Get your fucking little, dirty, clawed rat hands the fuck away from them.' Izzy spits at Lucius' boots, content only when the man grimaced and took a hop backwards and away from his lacerating fingers.

'What's your problem, Dizzy Izzy', Lucius hisses back, hunching down onto his haunches and resting his hands treacherously on your shoulders: far too close, as he squeezes you reassuringly. Too damn fucking close, for Izzy's taste. 'Just because it's not your fingers, doesn't mean you have to be so jealous. We don't own each other on this ship. If you're interested, all you have to do is say.'

'Who says I'm fucking jealous', he tries to shrug, but his voice is strained. Wracked. He's obviously trying to stop himself melting to your feet and placating himself at your shrine right there and then, ready to die under your heel.

Izzy glances uncertainly along the ground, doing his best to seem as straight laced as usual, but growing more and more discourteous in his manner at the way Lucius grins at his growing discomfort. 'Oh come on, you wouldn't mind if Y/n and I headed back to the ship right now, right? After all, Dizzy Izzy doesn't get jealous. He wouldn't care if he could hear screaming coming from-'

'You shut your fucking mouth.' He shoves a thick finger into Lucius' chest, nearly toppling over himself trying to get his arm in to separate the man from your back.

'Or what?', Lucius replies, trying to keep his grip by your neck while also trying to bat off Izzy's slicing hands. He manages to pull back and wring his hand out right before Izzy bared his teeth and took a chunk out of it. 'What are you going to do, Izzy? Give me a lashing? I'm sure you'd love to do that to Y/n. Or maybe for them to do that to you - I've always known you were a mas-'

'You little. Fucking. Tease.' Despite the ferocity of his words as he spits them out from his serpent tongue, the tenderness of his fingers as he reaches down to grip your wrist surprises you. He tugs you up, taking a step around your body as if to shield you from the gratified smirk Lucius is radiating.

'I could destroy you, you know, and everyone would thank me for it. Because that's what you do, isn't it?' He was trying his best to sound as bratty as possible, but there was an almost imperceptible shake in his fingers as he tightened his grip on your wrist. 'A proper little seductress. Using and destroying perfect things.'

'Perfect?', you whisper out from behind his back, your hand coming up to touch your lips as if you could taste the sweetness dripping off the word. Izzy's brows furrow as he curses himself. Fuck. He's fucking done it now. What kind of sap will you think he is? Standing there with knees nearly knocking before you, some kind of fucking pirate with his squeaky voice and thumb circling delicate paths along your wrist.

'Do you really mean that?', you ask, the eagerness in your tone enough to make Izzy's breath falter in the back of his throat. He nearly chokes on it, but finds just enough to pant out the truest words left in his rotten body.

'I... meant, what I said.'

You flash your eyes toward him in surprise, but the man is already staring directly at you. What you were surprised about though, were the tears that were shrouding the usual piercing glare of his irises. He looked almost… childlike. Mythical. Almost pitiable, standing on the long stretch of mist, feet crushing into the grains of sand as if he were willing himself to stay anchored, to not fade away with his tears into the spray of mist.

A man strung up by the tendrils of heart, doomed to stay wanting, waiting, fading into the rays of light.

It was almost phantasmal. And as you used your free hand to cup Izzy's cheek, it was almost enough for him to trick him into believing that he was alive again.

Even Lucius’ mouth drops down into a surprised ‘oh’ as a lone tear manages to tear a ragged path down the first mate’s sullen cheek.

He snorts, raising his eyes to the piercing blue skyline and trying to blink the tears back past his eyelashes. It's when the whining starts: the soft, pitiable howls of a kicked man being held for the first time of his life, that the patchwork mould surrounding what's left of Israel Hands' inner sanctum begins to crack away. He burrows himself into the warm, welcoming palm of your hand, allowing the water to flow over the bud of his nose.

Before your feet could even register that they were moving, Izzy has dragged you away from Lucius and into the shade of a nearby orange tree. A few fireflies began to peek their heads out from between the stout leaves at the disturbance: like honey dripping down from bowed boughs, brushing kindly against Izzy's glowing cheeks and making him seem almost saint-like as they gathered around his head. The sound of your shipmates begins to blur into the distance as the singing is replaced by the wretched pants of Izzy's breath.

He slams your back against the curved bark of the tree, sliding his boots in front of yours and leaning his body over you, effectively trapping you between the scratchy bark and the heaving muscle of his abdomen. You shiver, unsure if it's due to the champagne bubbles lapping their way towards your bare feet, or the feel of Izzy raising the wrist he's almost bruising above your head, no longer trying to hide the fact he's holding you in place against his body.

'Why do you stay around such unsavoury characters.' The bastard bares his teeth at you. God, he was enjoying this far too much. Enjoying raising his knee until the bone nearly kneaded against your groin. Enjoying using his free hand to grip onto your jaw just as Lucius had done, but far needier. He digs into your skin as he tilts your head back, and you can feel his smirk branding it’s way into the bare strip of skin between the nape or your neck and the hollow of your earlobe as he leans down to whisper: 'A fine creature such as yourself should be careful of deranged creatures like that. They slink out of the depths like demons. So perverse.'

Fucker makes sure to run his lips from your shoulder blade right up to your pulse point first, though.

'You should thank me for saving you from his depravity.'

'Oh of course', you begin to smile, playing along with his little fable. His little knight in shining armour tale, so he didn't break apart so easily. 'I have to thank you. You've been watching me for a while, haven't you? Taking care of me from afar...', you take a chance while he's distracted breathing in your scent to dip down and nip at his earlobe.

His legs start to waver then, and with a quick reflex that had got you onto Stede’s crew in the first place, you manage to steady him with a hand placed around the firm muscle of his waist.

'I did my best to save you from that seductress.' His teeth clash against your bottom lip in an almost wantonly manner, hovering his mouth over yours. It takes almost all of his self control to seem like he’s seething as his nose pokes against yours; it takes every piercing shred of self restraint he has to not wet your bottom lip with his tongue.

As tough as he thinks he's being, he’s not incredibly subtle in his thoughts and temptations, if the way he can’t stop staring at your mouth is anything to go by. Something wild makes his eyes gloss over: a tightly leashed repression, a long tempered heartache burrowing their way out of his eyes until he can barely hold back the parasitic tears.

His mouth trembles as it falls open, 'you deserve someone proper. Someone better-', he swallows thickly, eyes darting quickly between your own and back down to your widening lips. 'Someone better than them. Someone better than me-'

He looks wonderstruck, and you can't bear just to see its ferity anymore. You have to taste it. And if the manic glint in his eye is anything to go by, Izzy is in exactly the same boat.

His words are quickly enveloped by your mouth. He gasps against your tongue, his own quivering as an overwhelming rush of pure love gushed through him like the rips of a storm. He wastes no time: afraid this was a trick, a prank, a cruel mirage, his mind still trapped in one of his restless, far too fleeting dreams. He lips frantically latch, smother, tug, overwhelm you until you can barely breathe. Can barely feel. Your eyes flicker close in bliss as he allows you a moment of respite from all his pent-up want, his all consuming need, planting a trail of open mouth kisses followed by wide planted licks down your throat.

The slide of your feet against the trim of his steadying boot is a welcome relief from the burn of Izzy's hand as he grips onto your waist like a man possessed. His fingers clench, nearly lifting your lower half up to grind against his abdomen, stopping himself only at the last second and lowering you back down into his unforgiving grip.

You almost gasp when you feel your name roll of his tongue and reverberate through your neck in a hoarse moan. He tries to subdue his embarrassment by finally... finally reaching up and lacing the fingers clawing at your wrist within your own. If he wasn't too busy devouring the bare stretch of skin between your neck and your breast, Izzy perhaps might have felt embarrassed by the way his pelvis was bucking up wildly, leather slapping lewdly up against your inner thigh.

But he isn't embarrassed. He doesn't feel anything at all, except for a coursing rush of life flow through his veins for the first time in years.

He crumbles against you, surprisingly gentle as he claws and kneads and mewls into you, his lips dragging down and over to the side of your jaw now with quick, tempered nicks. His hand lets go of yours to trail down your inner palm, a shit eating grin branding its way into your chest as it traces down your arm, and then quickly falls so both hands are squeezing tightly into the meat of your waist. He bites down at your skin, incisors almost drawing blood against your pec. He swipes his tongue against the cut in apology, sucking against the skin as his trousers bounce up and tighten at the sound of you mewling. You scramble your free hand onto his shoulder to try and keep yourself in place, the man ravishing you so forcefully the tips of your toes could barely touch the ground.

Your full weight is resting on his torso, happy to let yourself flop over his shoulders and allow easier access for him to litter hickeys along the sinews of your throat. He does so gladly, making sure on his way to lift his hands and move them to slap down on your buttocks with a squeeze that leaves you reeling.

You're too busy whimpering at the feel of Izzy's inner thigh beginning to bulge against your crotch to feel the sting, his leather trousers beginning to tent in an uncomfortable way that made his biceps squirm as he wrapped them around your back. To mask the sharp barks that he begins to whine, he bites onto your bottom lip and pulls it down with his teeth, until he's satisfied that his tongue has full access to delve down your throat.

You quickly pull back and glance behind Izzy's head when you hear a sing-song 'you're welcome!' and vindicated hum of Lucius receding into the distance.

For someone who saw Lucius as such a threat, Izzy Hands could be quite the little seductress himself.

[reasaph]

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that your my savior."

Soshiro Hoshina x fem suicidal reader!

Summary: (name), a person who has no beliefs, no reason and will to live gets hospitalized after another attempt. There, she meets Soshiro Hoshina and has looked forward to waking another morning since.

TW: reader is mentally unstable, mentions of unhealthy eating routine, Injuries, Theres prob more

The title come from the song "sailor song" by Gigi perez!

Part 3!

You don't know how long you've been staring, not moving an inch, completely drilled to your place, feet rooted deep in the ground, limbs not daring to flinch. Hoshina was the first to regain composure and control the vast swirl of rigged emotions inside the interior of his heart, clearing his throat to rid of the lump thats been keeping his larynx silent. His action made you made you land back to earth in reciprocation, it splashed a fresh pail full of water on you, enough to awoke your self consciousness. You know the throb in your chest isn't normal, it's not the usual butchering ache that makes you wanna rip yourself apart, but rather a throbbing feeling of longing that has planted itself in the depths of your ribs. Thats the effect he has on you, you feel like chipping off one by one the atoms that form you as a whole and offer it to him as a token of your affection— no, love, a token of your love. It isnt so bad as you thought, atleast not yet. The optimistic feeling society calls love has taken you hostage at gunpoint with Hoshina Soshiro as the bullet, and your willing to take it anytime, welcome him to the bone.

"Ya alright? Snap out of it dummy." he flicked you on the forehead, disturbing the bundle of nerves underneath your skin, it hurts in all honesty. It hurts enough to make you exclaim audibly, you dont think he Added That nuch pressure when, maybe hes just really strong.

"Ow! What was that for?" You soothe the irritated skin, it stung and turned into a reddish hue.

"Aren't ya gonna treat me today? Lets go." Hoshina regrets his action, yet he doesn't want to admit it. He wants to apologize but he doesn't want to face that he's the reason of your pain.

"Just dont order the whole cafeteria." You shrug it off like its nothing, you dont mind. Because your bound to be hurt by him one way or another as long as you feel such a thing for him. But you dont mind, call it masochistic, if you will, but you dont mind if he's the reason of your pain.

As you two waited in line, disposable trays In hand, Hoshina cant help the weird obligation to just keep yapping to keep you here, to keep you entertained. He keeps talking and cracking jokes in fear that you'd get tired of his company, but that was just what he thinks. You could listen to his voice on a broken record, replaying itself numerous times like a mantra, like a chant, saying the same things aan your ear drums will consider itself blessed to hear such a soothing melody. You would heed every note in the soprano of his sounds if he gave you such a privilege.

"Have ya tasted their pancakes? They're delicious." Hoshina blurts out things randomly, no difference here. He's never actually tried the sweet fluff before. He's just desperate to keep talking, to hear your response, the soprano of your voice, the sweet sound of your larynx.

"No, but I'll take your word on it." It's gotten to the point where you'll take his word in anything. If Hoshina says the sky is a green hue, You wont see the sky In the same blue color starting then. You trust him and his silver tongue, you believe if his taste buds find something pleasurable to eat then it is, consider it a controversial opinion.

"Really? Gee, now I'll be responsible if ya dont like it." Again, he absolutely dles not know shit about what the pancakes tasted like. And Hoshina did not know you would take him seriously on that.

"I'll kill you if they taste like shit." You say those words so tenderly, Hoshina almost forgot they were meant to curse him.

The line kept moving forward, step sy step, the two of you inching towards the array of edibles displayed behind glass covers. The scent came rushing into your nostrils, so much you probably guess what's pleasurable to the tongue and whats not. When you two were finally the person in front and all had already llef, you went ahead and took your order of choice, as did Hoshina. The person who tended to the both of you was very nice, not the typical grumpy bitch you'd meet behind the counter. You dont know why but you were more used to that type of service, to that particular ttreatment, to being frowned and looked down upon even though your of an equal human being. The two of you got your food, payed and was excused out of the line so those behind you can have their chance to order what they wish.

"I dont see a table that's empty." So you guys venture further in search of a flat surface free for the taking. The whole cafeteria is oddly full to the brim, patients, visitors and doctors occupied every seat.

"Over there! Although its a bit in the corner." Hoshina was nudging to a disclosed table, its funny, the table resided in a cramped corner, no wonder no one seated on it. The table was left alone in result, no one living up to its purpose.

"I could care less, lets go." You went ahead infront of him, pushing through the compressed crowds, struggling to get past. Hoshina followed behind you, right behind your back. He thinks you look strong at this point of view, your spine stood up straight even when clearing a path. Hoshina just followed in your shadow, he doesn't mind at all, he doesn't mind if you'll take him as your counterpart behind.

Hoshina places down his tray on the flat surface and takes a seat, you reciprocate and sat on the opposite side of him. A particularly cramped space, but it would do. You dont care where, as long as its with him. Hoshina could invite you to the depths of the overwhelming oceans, the tightest room with only less than a meter of width, the very mantle of the earth and you would show up with smiles and a bouqet.You don't know how long you've been staring, not moving an inch, completely drilled to your place, feet rooted deep in the ground, limbs not daring to flinch. Hoshina was the first to regain composure and control the vast swirl of rigged emotions inside the interior of his heart, clearing his throat to rid of the lump thats been keeping his larynx silent. His action made you made you land back to earth in reciprocation, it splashed a fresh pail full of water on you, enough to awoke your self consciousness. You know the throb in your chest isn't normal, it's not the usual butchering ache that makes you wanna rip yourself apart, but rather a throbbing feeling of longing that has planted itself in the depths of your ribs. Thats the effect he has on you, you feel like chipping off one by one the atoms that form you as a whole and offer it to him as a token of your affection— no, love, a token of your love. It isnt so bad as you thought, atleast not yet. The optimistic feeling society calls love has taken you hostage at gunpoint with Hoshina Soshiro as the bullet, and your willing to take it anytime, welcome him to the bone.

"Ya alright? Snap out of it dummy." he flicked you on the forehead, disturbing the bundle of nerves underneath your skin, it hurts in all honesty. It hurts enough to make you exclaim audibly, you dont think he Added That nuch pressure when, maybe hes just really strong.

"Ow! What was that for?" You soothe the irritated skin, it stung and turned into a reddish hue.

"Aren't ya gonna treat me today? Lets go." Hoshina regrets his action, yet he doesn't want to admit it. He wants to apologize but he doesn't want to face that he's the reason of your pain.

"Just dont order the whole cafeteria." You shrug it off like its nothing, you dont mind. Because your bound to be hurt by him one way or another as long as you feel such a thing for him. But you dont mind, call it masochistic, if you will, but you dont mind if he's the reason of your pain.

As you two waited in line, disposable trays In hand, Hoshina cant help the weird obligation to just keep yapping to keep you here, to keep you entertained. He keeps talking and cracking jokes in fear that you'd get tired of his company, but that was just what he thinks. You could listen to his voice on a  broken record, replaying itself numerous times like a mantra, like a chant, saying the same things aan your ear drums will consider itself blessed to hear such a soothing melody. You would heed every note in the soprano of his sounds if he gave you such a privilege.

"Have ya tasted their pancakes? They're delicious." Hoshina blurts out things randomly, no difference here. He's never actually tried the sweet fluff before. He's just desperate to keep talking, to hear your response, the soprano of your voice, the sweet sound of your larynx.

"No, but I'll take your word on it." It's gotten to the point where you'll take his word in anything. If Hoshina says the sky is a green hue, You wont see the sky In the same blue color starting then. You trust him and his silver tongue, you believe if his taste buds find something pleasurable to eat then it is, consider it a controversial opinion.

"Really? Gee, now I'll be responsible if ya dont like it." Again, he absolutely dles not know shit about what the pancakes tasted like. And Hoshina did not know you would take him seriously on that.

"I'll kill you if they taste like shit." You say those words so tenderly, Hoshina almost forgot they were meant to curse him.

The line kept moving forward, step sy step, the two of you inching towards the array of edibles displayed behind glass covers. The scent came rushing into your nostrils, so much you probably guess what's pleasurable to the tongue and whats not. When you two were finally the person in front and all had already llef, you went ahead and took your order of choice, as did Hoshina. The person who tended to the both of you was very nice, not the typical grumpy bitch you'd meet behind the counter. You dont know why but you were more used to that type of service, to that particular ttreatment, to being frowned and looked down upon even though your of an equal human being. The two of you got your food, payed and was excused out of the line so those behind you can have their chance to order what they wish.

"I dont see a table that's empty." So you guys venture further in search of a flat surface free for the taking. The whole cafeteria is oddly full to the brim, patients, visitors and doctors occupied every seat.

"Over there! Although its a bit in the corner." Hoshina was nudging to a disclosed table, its funny, the table resided in a cramped corner, no wonder no one seated on it. The table was left alone in result, no one living up to its purpose.

"I could care less, lets go." You went ahead infront of him, pushing through the compressed crowds, struggling to get past. Hoshina followed behind you, right behind your back. He thinks you look strong at this point of view, your spine stood up straight even when clearing a path. Hoshina just followed in your shadow, he doesn't mind at all, he doesn't mind if you'll take him as your counterpart behind. He's subtly reminded about his injuries during this escapedes, being squished between figures of hard muscle, causing him to feel a sting as Hoshina  swims through this mob.

Hoshina places down his tray on the flat surface and takes a seat, body still fuming with pain, while you reciprocate and sat on the opposite side of him. A particularly cramped space, but it would do. You dont care where, as long as its with him. Hoshina could invite you to the depths of the overwhelming oceans, the tightest room with only less than a meter of width, the very mantle of the earth and you would show up with smiles and a bouqet. The scent of the freshly cooked food was enough to rip a gluttural sound from the depths of your stomach, a plead to be fed. So you indulged in its selfish wishes and took a bite, inching the utensil closer.

"It's yummy." Which is very unexpected for a hospital. One would never guess that such a decent delicacy comes from a public hospital, of all places.

"Rightt?! Told ya." Hoshina boasted like an ignorant student who had just solved a hard question, not yet on their curriculum. With his fangs poking out while he oh so joyfully grins. Although, he, himself had never tried those.

You nodded, spoon still nestled in your mouth, trying to dramatically savor the taste. You trust Hoshina, be it with trivial things or life changing decisions that could very much decide your fate. "What about yours?" You ask, glancing down at his platter.

Hoshina hasn't yet moved a spectrum on his platter, a little to occupied watching your retort as if you were blessed with a golden tongue. He chomped on his piece of toast the moment he could.

"Are you sure your okay with just that?" You ask, concern lacing the arcs of your tone of voice. All that laid on his disposable platter was a piece of toast, bacon and egg. You recall reminding him not to go overboard with the stacking of food onto his plate as because it was your wallet taking the damage, but your not sure if this serves as a balanced meal.

"Yer talking like an old grandma." Hoshina points his spoon directly to your face, not enough to make contact. You unexpectedly remember the times in which you'd not eat breakfast at all, doing nothing but rotting in the four corners of your room, ignoring the hollow emptiness of your stomach.

"Shut it and eat." And that the both of you did. The bustling noise of your surroundings never seemed to disturb Hoshina, it's not like he's not disturbed by the way every time he tries to speak, his voice gets washed away by the huge sound cloud of the whole room, but as long as his voice reaches the brim of your ears, it's enough for him.

Time passes, conversation topics were being thrown here and there, the food home to your plate was half finished and his was gone practically, all that remained was microsopic crumbs on the plate. You take small, miniature portions so you don't accidentally vomit right then and there, now you're halfway through finishing it all. The food was overwhelming now, the taste is now all too plain simply because you've eaten your fill, it's a bad habit you've developed during your not so pleasant days. Getting tired of eating too quickly. Hoshina talked to you all meal long, pointing out the most random things and it somewhat assisted you.

You were midway in shoving another spoonful of food into your mouth and straight down your esophagus when Hoshina asked something that abled you to choke on your own air.

"(Name), why are you here?" He has his eyes wide open, scarlet hues in full blossom as red as the blood that circulates in your veins, the same scarlet hues has it's vision etched onto the very essence of your being. "Here at this hospital, I mean." Hoshina tilted his head and placed both his elbows on the table.

You hesitate to state the truth, afraid he would resent you, afraid that he'd be disgusted like any other. You dread that if you do tell him, you would be taken of the right to dwell on his presence. You dread that he won't look at you with the same eyes, you fear that he wouldn't want to lay eyes your appearance ever again.

"I fell down the stairs, very badly" A brief pause. You pause to give yourself time to think of another reason to further back up your excuse. "Fainted and broke a few bones haha—"

Hoshina stayed silent, staring at your face a bit too long to your liking, it was as if he was analyzing the truth from your expression alone.

"Your turn to tell, it's not fair for me!" You genuinely wanted to know the reason why the man was covered in bandages like a walking Egyptian mummy coming to haunt modern civilization. But besides that, you wanted to get him to talk again, just silence was as loud as it can possibly get, so by asking a question, he'd have to speak.

Hoshina looked deep in the cocoons of his mind as well, humming to himself which only made you more anticipated for what he has to share. So much to the point you wouldn't be surprised whether his next words to be 'I fight kaiju for a living! Ya get the gist.' Hoshina merely grins, opening his mouth to speak.

"I fight kaiju for a living! Ya get the gist." Scratch that, the word 'surprised' would be underwhelming it, simply to say you were baffled, eyes open wide like saucers, mouth left agape. You anticipated something extraordinary, yes, but no way could you have guesses your guess was no work of fiction.

Hoshina is somewhat pleased at your reaction, crossing his arms and grinning cheshire. He decided he'll add more spice to the mix. "Did I also mention my position? Vice-captain of the third division." The sight compares with a child boasting to his peers about a new trinket he's gotten.

It's the truth, no way he'd joke about something that serious. You weren't one to take interest in anything kaiju related, you deemed all of it unnecessary in your life. Hoshina is telling the truth, the man sitting across from you is the same man who governs the Third division. You're too deep into this conversation that the rest of your food on the platter is long forgotten.

Now, you question whether or not you should talk to him more formally.

You feel so stupid now. "Isn't that like— an important thing? Are you sure you're okay with me knowing..?"

"Yer talking like I'm a superhero with a hidden identity, it's not something I hide. Plus I can trust you." Trust, hoshina trusts you. And you just lost privilege of that trust just a moment ago. Telling him that big of a lie, leaving him in the blue. You feel unworthy of his trust, the moment you've decided to throw words seeping opposite of truth.

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈

Moments later, you two get up and have a scroll at the backyard of the whole hospital, meant for a breath of fresh air for patients. Outside the hospital, away from the artificial smells, away from the blinding white. You don't know why you agreed to this idea, as well as Hoshina doesn't get why he suggested it. Not for more than half an hour, you two are anchored on a bench, scars already stinging and limbs already spent.

The breeze was comforting, the green grass was warming. Hoshina had his head tilted up high, soaking in the sight of the oddly living blue hue of the sky. He had never seen it this vividly, it was always a more muted tone in his view. He could only guess it was because of your presence with him. You, with your head hung low. He wonders if it'll continue to be this colorful even if you're not beside him anymore.

"I'm getting discharged in 2 days actually."

Your head snapped in his direction. The only word that could describe the crinkle on your features was disappointment. But then again, you had no right, the decision was not yours to make. You simply had no say in this.

"Hm, right. That's nice. Congratulations."

Nothing can guarantee whether you'll get the chance to be with him again. The light in your life was once again about to dim, the room would once more become pitch black. You wish you'd be given a lifetime, but such is reality. Your time with your savior has been short lived. In two days, you'll lose something dear and there's nothing you could do about it.

You truly believe Soshiro Hoshina is the man who's meant to save you from this gruesome way of living, but now he's departing from you.

[quinloki]

Bugging Thatch

Commission for @standfucker

Thatch x afab!Reader

Summary: Izou informs you that Thatch is afraid of bugs. It's hard to believe, but a simple test proves the truth of it - and just how much Thatch cares for you. You've been effectively friends with benefits for a while now, but maybe there's something more there?

CW: edging, impact play, dom/sub play, oral received, over stimulation, forced orgasms, sobbing, begging, food puns, bondage, gag, praising, cream pie, mdni

“No way,” you shake your head as Izou grins.

“I’m serious. It’s kind of endearing in its own way.”

“But he’s -.” You move your arms, pantomiming a space as big as you can. “I mean, it’s Thatch. Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Izou says with a laugh. “Test it out if you don’t believe me. Just be careful not to disrupt things when he’s really busy.”

“Right, yeah.” You agree, nodding, and watching Thatch haul supplies onto the ship with a couple dozen other crew members.

You’d been on the crew for a few months, and in that time you’d been getting steadily closer to the ship’s primary cook. Thatch was a hopeless romantic, and a sweetheart - he’d been such a flustered mess the first time you two slept together. It had almost been a game of chicken in a sense, the two of you flirting, layering it on thicker and thicker and neither one backing down.

In the end you’d been pulling one another’s clothes off in the pantry, giggling like a couple of idiots before one of the fourth division crew members chased you off so the others could clean up for the night.

Thatch had swept you full off your feet and practically danced back to his quarters, and you two resumed, tangling into one another for a few rounds before falling asleep in a mess of limbs and sheets, and that was how your kind of undefined relationship had started.

It was small wonder that Thatch’s longer time crew mates would begin to regale you with stories. Most of them at the poor man’s expense, admittedly, but what were brothers for? Still you hadn’t expected him to have a fear of bugs, of all things.

Even as you chased him around the ship, hands cupped over one another. Yelling after him that you just wanted to show him the cool beetle you’d found.

“It’s harmless!” You call out after him.

“I don’t care! Toss it overboard!” He roars, easily keeping ahead of you.

“I will not,” you laugh as he clamors up some rigging. Standing below you pout and Thatch sticks his tongue out at you.

Thinking for a moment you pretend to move the nonexistent bug into your bra and Thatch screeches before leaping off the rigging and landing in front of you.

“Are you mad!?” He yells, yanking your collar aside to remove the bug. “If it bites… you.” He freezes as realization dawns. You can’t help shaking with the laughter you’re desperately trying to contain.

“Sorry,” you murmur, your control cracking when he looks down at you with a long suffering expression. “But see? You’re not afraid of them when you- Waugh!” The strange sound escapes you when Thatch lifts you up without warning, tossing you over his shoulder and stomping off to his room.

“Thatch, wait, where are we - Annnnhhh ♥!” One big hand grabs your ass cheek and squeezes, forcing a nearly pornographic moan out of you. One of your hands is against his back, steadying you, the other clamped over your mouth.

Several people poked their heads out of their rooms and into the hallway, one of them being Izou. He gives you the most smug shit eating grin you’ve ever seen, wiggling his fingers at you in some sort of half-assed wave. You realize that between you and Thatch, the one who may have been set up was you.

Stepping into his room, Thatch closes and locks the door before laying you down on the bed. He doesn’t toss you like you were expecting, but he’s not setting you down as gently as he usually does. He looms over you caging you underneath him, and you barely have time enough to stammer half a syllable before he leans down and kisses you.

It’s a heavy and demanding kiss, your lips parting easily. A muffled moan creeps up your throat and his tongue pushes into your mouth more, as though he means to consume the sound before it can dare to escape. His hands have yours pinned to the mattress, and as he kisses you he crosses your wrists, holding you in place with a single hand.

You squirm a little beneath him, but your efforts have no hope of escape, and you aren’t sure you could slip Thatch’s grasp if he truly wanted to hold you down. He has nearly a head of height on Marco, and the first commander was crowding just a few inches shy of seven feet.

Thatch tugs his yellow scarf free, using his teeth to help tie it into a knot a couple times. Heat was burning in your cheeks, as your chest heaves. You don’t know what he has in store for you, but the kisses were hot as hell, and you’re open to suggestions.

“Open,” Thatch commands. There’s a weight and heat in that single word and you can feel a rush down your spine from it. Opening your mouth obediently you’re marveling at this commanding side of him. He was always more of a puppy dog as far as you knew, but this was a welcome change of pace.

He stuffs the knot into your mouth, and brings your arms down to your sides. You squeak as he turns you over easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. He snaps your bra free so fast you wonder for a moment if it was actually hooked in the first place. Folding your arms behind your back he ties them into place with your shirt, and then uses your bra to keep your arms against your back. It’s going to stretch the bra out but right now you really don’t care.

“Mm are-ee.” You say from behind the scarf.

“Better keep that scarf in your mouth, if you’re really sorry.” He says in reply. Well, at least he can understand you even with the gag in place. Thatch pulls your pants down to your knees and then moves you so your bent over the side of the bed. His hands are on your bare ass cheeks, kneading his fingers into the meat. You moan again from the sensation.

Leaning over you, he puts a little of his weight onto you, speaking into your ear. “You really need me to stop, you spit that out and say ‘red’, understand?” You nod, groaning as he keeps massaging your ass with those massive hands. “Good, and if I let you speak you reply with ‘Yes, Chef’, got it?”

You have to be radiating heat enough for him to feel it, but you look away and nod your understanding. You’re torn - ‘Chef’ is what those in the fourth division call Thatch when everyone’s in the galley making meals.

“Good. Now take what I give you, sweetheart. This is your punishment for scaring me earlier.”

You feel Thatch’s weight and body heat leave you and a second later there’s a sharp crack against your ass. Crying out into the gag you come up off the bed a bit and squirm at the sting. Thatch rubs the place he smacked and the prickly rush of pleasure from it makes you squeal in a different way.

CRACK!

He smacks the other cheek and repeats the process. You can’t help the squirming you’re doing until Thatch puts a foot between your knees, stepping on your pants and bringing them down to your ankles. He pins your pants to the floor with his boot, and puts a hand against your shoulder blades. You’re held taut against the bed and floor before he smacks your ass again.

You jerk from the sting, but you have no where to go with Thatch holding you down. All you can do is take it, and the sharp smacks are sinking something else into your body. The hot stinging slaps feel good, even as your body jerks from each impact. You grunt at the last crack against your skin and Thatch stops, rubbing his rough hand over your red and swollen ass cheeks. His hands make the strange prickly feeling almost tickle, and you can’t stop the squeaking moan because of it.

“Look at you, enjoying your punishment.” Thatch muses and you jolt a little in guilt. He laughs, leaning down and licking a long heavy stripe over the curve of your red ass. You practically growl the sweet sound from the sensation of his tongue against your tingling skin.

Thatch’s hand moves over where he licked you and then slips between your thighs so quickly you gasp, nearly dropping the gag.

“Wow, you’re soaked already.” He muses, fingers idly playing in the wetness of your folds before he focuses on your clit. “Been wanting me to just put you over my shoulder and do what I want, huh?”

You don’t even try to say anything, your hips are already trying to raise up to help him, and your knees are as far apart as you get them with your ankles tangled in your pants. There’s no reason to play coy at this point. You’ve had sex plenty of times, and you haven’t been overly shy with Thatch.

“I love how honest you always are,” he pushes his thumb against your entrance, just barely teasing the tip into your vagina as his fingers tease your clit. It’s just enough that you can feel the pleasure coiling in your muscles. Your breath is already coming hot and heavy and you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep the gag in your mouth.

Squirming and whining, you push back against him as much as you can. Considering how well he has you pinned down it wasn’t much. You start to mewl against the gag, trying to have your needy pleas make it through enough to be heard. Thatch didn’t do anything in response to the sounds, even though you were sure he could hear you.

His thumb pushes in a little more and you moan, biting down on the scarf to keep it in your mouth. A little more and you’re going to cum, and there’s not going to be anything you can do about it.

Thatch pulls his hand away and even though you aren’t surprised he’s stopped, you can’t stay the grunt that kicks against your chest. He laughs at the sound and moves again. Pulling your pants the rest of the way off he tosses them aside and rolls you onto your back.

With your arms bound behind your back it pushes your chest up into the air. He adjusts your position a little and lifts your legs by your ankles. Putting your feet against his chest he unbuttons his shirt, keeping control of your legs as he takes it off.

There’s little that you appreciate in this world more than Thatch’s big, broad, hairy, scarred and tattooed barrel chest. It’s almost overwhelming at the moment, to be honest. You want your hands free so you can comb your fingers through his chest hair, you want the gag out of your mouth so you can kiss his scars and make him gasp when you tease his nipples.

“I can practically hear your thoughts.” He grins as he lifts up your ankles and pushes them back until your ass is in the air, and only your shoulders are still against the mattress. “But we’re not done.”

Thatch gives your ass another swat and in your current position you can’t do anything except grunt and take it. Leaning down he kisses the sore spots. He teases the backs of your thighs with nibbling kisses and heavy licks against your skin. You squeak and squirm under the ticklish assault, but you lack the leverage to hope to escape.

“You’re so small,” he muses, making your face flush. You want to say you’re only small compared to him, but the look he’s giving you is so soft. At least for a moment. “I bet this will work.”

Thatch leans down and wraps his arms around you. Standing up easily he’s lifted you upside down, your legs on either side of his shoulders. You gasp and drop the scarf.

“Crap!” You swear, squeaking when he adjusts his hold on you.

“S’alright sweetheart,” he assures you. “I want to hear you anyway.”

Thatch’s mouth dives into your pussy with fervor, his lips and tongue buried in your folds, moving aside your labia so he could reach the treats within. Surprised gasps from you turn into deep moans as his tongue plunges into your pussy. His nose can’t tease your clit like this, but Thatch is strong, and once he gets settled he’s only using one hand to hold you up.

The other’s holding your hips still, his thumb reaching out and teasing your clit.

“Fuuuuuck,” you groan. The blood rushing to your head is making you a little dizzy, but the pleasure Thatch is pouring into your cunt is making the blood rush to your pussy with just as much fervor. The heat of his tongue, the wetness of it, it sounds so sloppy, it feels so good, and once he brings you to the edge again he stops.

“Fuck,” you grunt.

“Complaints?” He prompts, and you flinch.

“… No.”

“No?” Thatch grabs your leg and turns his head, biting the inside of your thigh.

“Aaaahh! Chef! No, Chef!” You correct.

“Better.” Thatch moves you carefully, setting you on your side on the bed. He runs his fingers through your hair, combing through it gently before he starts to check on your arms and hands, making sure nothing’s pulled too tight. “How’s that gorgeous ass of yours?”

“Sore, Chef.” You answer with a grunt.

“Mm, I can make it so you don’t sit right for a week, if you really want.” He promises, looking down at you with an expression on your face that makes your toes curl.

You don’t say anything for a moment and Thatch’s brows raise. “Really?”

Hiding your face against the mattress you take a moment to reply. “I don’t know, but I know I’m not against it enough to say no.” You admit. “Chef.”

After a moment’s silence, Thatch stands up and takes his pants off. Somehow he looks intimidating right now. It’s not like he’s suddenly gotten bigger, but the way he’s standing, the way you’re tied up, but when he rolls you onto your back you keep your legs together.

Thatch scoops you up easily, laying you more in the center of the bed before climbing onto the mattress to join you. Grabbing one ankle, he spreads your legs for you, leaning down low enough you can see the muscles on his shoulders and upper back. Big and rippling under the movement, the power he commands makes your brain stutter as he places soft kisses against your legs, moving them further and further apart as he kisses his way up to your thighs.

He spreads your pussy open and licks your clit, lapping at the stiff bundle of nerves a few times before sucking it into his mouth. You can’t ask him to have mercy on you, can’t bring yourself to beg him to not bring you to the edge again.  Even as he licks and sucks and nibbles you into another frenzy, you can’t do anything but whine long keening moans into the air.

He brings you so close to the edge you think you’re going to cum no matter what, and he stops, licking the inside of your thigh and making the bite mark there sting. You suck in a breath and then moan as his heavy kisses work up the inside of your thigh again.

He’s barely let you settle before he’s bringing you to an edge again, two thick fingers stretching your vagina open as he licks and huffs against your mound. Fuck him for looking like that while he’s doing this to you. He looks more like Izou, piercing gaze that knows where you are and knows you’re getting what you deserve.

When he stops before you can cum again you nearly sob.

Thatch wipes his lips with the back of his hand and moves again until he’s pulling your hips into his lap, pressing his cock against your entrance. He’s barely pushing into you and you’re already panting, squirming a little in desperate need and a little in wanting to help ease him in.

Thatch pushes in slowly, so slow you’re almost pouting, fighting to keep yourself from demanding he go faster.

“You’re so wet,” he sighs, big hands rubbing your thighs and hips as he pushes in. “Such a perfect dessert.”

He leans into you, pushing himself the rest of the way into you as he presses you into the mattress. Thatch sighs, taking a moment and rolling his hips against you, grinding in just a little deeper. The soft swear hisses from between his teeth as he grabs your legs and pushes them back until you’re locked under him.

When he moves its slow and deliberate. You can feel the head of his cock, the bumps of the thick veins, and the throb of his heart beat buried deep in your cunt. Every slight move feels sweet, and while the pace is so deliberate it’s maddening, he’s slowly driving you toward the edge again.

“Thaa-a-a-atch,” you gasp as he presses against you, pressing heavy and deep. “Faster, please, please!”

He pulls back, just as slow as before. “Forgetting the rules already, my soon-to-be creamed puff?” He teases and you almost groan at the pun.

“Chef, please!” You beg, squirming under him. “At least, my arms, let me…” You huff but Thatch cuts you off by leaning down and kissing you. Moaning and mumbling into the deep kisses you try to beg for him to speed up but he doesn’t, keeping the same tortuously slow pace.

Your feet were the only things not pinned beneath him and you had barely enough movement to wiggle your toes. Thatch breaks the kiss and immediately begins kissing more of you, leaving heavy kisses against your neck, and shoulders, bending enough to lap at your nipples.

You gasp and he grunts in response.

“You really tightened up.” He purrs, licking your other nipple and then sucking it into his mouth and making you tighten up and squirm again. “More sensitive than usual? Does my darling tart enjoy being trussed up like a roast?”

“The food metaphors, Chef.” You groan, the shivering sound turning into a moan as Thatch gives your nipples more attention. The sparks it sends into your chest go straight to your pussy and you know he’s delighting in the effect he’s having. “Please, please, I’m so close, please let me cum!”

“I haven’t told you that you’re not allowed.” He says, feigning innocence as he stops teasing your nipples, maintaining that terrible slow pace.

The teasing and the pace keep you on an edge and you can’t wiggle against him to ride him from your current position. All you can do is take what he’s giving you, and what he’s giving you isn’t nearly enough. Thatch is watching every squirm and pant and twitch from you, and cooing sweet words at you every now and then.

Even with the soft praises, after a few more minutes you can’t take it anymore and sob.

“Please, please, Chef,” you cry, looking into Thatch’s eyes as the tears fall down your cheeks. You didn’t want to cry, you were worried he’d feel bad, but if you didn’t get some relief soon you were going to have to use your safe word. “I can’t take it, please!”

“Shh, shh,” Thatch soothes you, petting your hair and giving you a soft kiss. “You endured well. I think you’ve paid for making me worry. Now for you to pay for chasing me around the ship!”

“Huh?!” You start to ask him what he means but Thatch begins to thrust into you swift and heavy.

There’s no words your mouth can form as he fucks the air out of your lungs, pushing sweet gasping cries past your lips. The bed creaks and groans under the assault and quickly you can feel yourself reaching that edge again.

“Please! Please!” You gasp, almost afraid he’s going to edge you again.

“Cum for me baby,” Thatch husks, grabbing onto your tits and teasing your nipples with his thumbs. “Cum against my cock like you want.”

“Thatch, Thatch, fuck! Fuuuu-nnnggh!” The pleasure crashes into you, and he doesn’t let up. Your body tenses and you throw your head back, crying out in euphoria and relief as all the teasing and edging throws you into a deeply satisfying haze.

“Thank you,” you gasp, breathlessly as he doesn’t slow down. “Thank you, Chef, thank you.”

“Heh, we’ll see if you’re still saying that after a bit.” Thatch grins, grinding against your throbbing clit. You whine from the stimulation, struggling beneath him as he barely gives you time to come down from your first high.

He teases your nipples with his fingers again and you buck. “Sensitive!” You cry out, and he chuckles.

“Yeah, you are.” He grins. “Come on, don’t you dare fight it.” As he leans down and kisses you, keeping his weight off you even as he rails you, you’re reminded how strong he is. Squeaking into the kiss you squirm, the squeaking moans turning into muffled screams as a second orgasm rushes into you without much build up.

Thatch breaks the kiss and you cry out into the air before sucking in a deep breath and squirming under him. “Wait, oh gods, Thatch, you’re - you’re- still - ah! I’m gonna—!”

You tense as he sucks harshly on your nipple, forcing a third orgasm on the heels of the second. A shattered swear breaks in your throat and the pieces dribble out past your lips in thick drops. The wet squelch of Thatch’s cock pushing the flood of pleasure past your pussy lips only makes you clench tighter.

Sweat makes your hair cling to your face, tears streaming down your cheeks as you shiver and sob. Thatch slows, kissing your tears, your cheeks and your forehead. The long slow strokes make you gasp and tremble beneath him, your body exhausted but still alight from the rush of relentless orgasms.

“Please, please,” you husk, hips moving to meet his despite your words. “Mercy, Chef, please.”

“Catch your breath, little snack,” he smiles pushing in with a heavy and deep thrust, grinding into you as though he means to reach as deep as possible. “Give me one more, and I’ll fill you up nice and full.”

“Kuh-cum in me Thatch, please but I don’t think I can come again.” You gasp, your hazy gaze is barely focused on him and he wraps his big hands around your breasts.

“One way to know for sure.” He responds, gently rolling your hard nipples between his fingers as he begins a steady pace. “I think I know my sweet sub… ordinate well enough, hm? Do your best for me, won’t you?”

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as the pleasure builds again and you nod your head. “Yes Chef.” You had no idea how easily you’d fold beneath him, no idea how demanding he could be. Your sweet Commander Thatch, the biggest goof ball and the most hopeless romantic on the entire ship, and here he was demanding all you had to give and more.

And you wanted to give all of yourself.

Your breath quickens with Thatch’s pace, and you swear you can feel his heart beat buried in your body.

“There you go,” Thatch nearly sighs the word and you can see the flush of heat in his face. “Sweet little thing, you’re doing so good for me. Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

You gasp, body tensing as you nearly peak from the compliment. “Don’t - ah, shhhhhhhit.”

“You’re mine, yeah?”

“Yes, yes! I’m - hnnngh - y-yours, Chef!”

“Thatch,” he corrects grinding against your clit. “You’re mine and I’m yours, say it for me sweetheart.”

“Yours! I’m yours Thatch and you’re - you’re muh-mine!” You cry as the pleasure crashes into your screaming muscles a fourth time. Your body tensed as you cry in euphoria and Thatch pounds into you roughly a few more times before pressing in deep and heavy.

Your name slips from his lips like jewels before he grunts, filling you full. The hot rush is punctuated by needy lips against your neck as he lazily pulls in and out a few times, milking himself empty as you flutter against him.

Pulling out, Thatch has barely broken a sweat, brushing his hair back and smiling down at you. You’re cold for a moment until he cages over you again, kissing your skin softly while you slowly come down from your high. He smiles when you smile at him, and then leans down and kisses your lips.

“Don’t tease me with bugs, please.” He says with a chuckle.

“Sure, yes, definitely - ah, but uhm…” You’re grateful that he’s rolled you onto your stomach to undo the binds holding your arms. “You can do that to me again. When… whenever.”

Thatch’s brows raise while he rubs your arms. “Certainly. Maybe next time we’ll go for a full course.” He leans over you, kissing a line down your spine. “A nice all day affair.”

[writingcold]

Hello!  Welcome to Chapter 7.1 and 7.2 of CD&FE.  

Pairing: Jake X Female Reader 

Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years.  I’m just going to say I’m smiling.  

Content warnings: Total Fluff.  Like Josh’s hair at Red Rocks.  

Word Count: approx. 6.2K 

We’re almost there.  I’m picturing @edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness rubbing their hands over the pending last part of this chapter.  It’s…  I can hear them cackling over it still.  But that’s next week.  We’ll just swoon together this week, okay?

CD&FE, Part 7.1: Jake’s POV

     We needed to slow down a bit.  Our families were feeling the effects of us always on the road.  Danny was a single dad and Sam was struggling to keep his own marriage together.  When things got super serious about priorities, it was decided that it would not kill us to pump the brakes.  We would tour heavily the first year out after an album, but then taper off, picking festivals and one offs that were more friendly to the family schedules.  This had a ripple effect for all of us - Danny had more time to spend in his folk sphere and play as a session musician for many of his friends.  Sam was really making strides in his production interests, going so far as starting his own company that kept him busy enough to settle his bouncy nature.  Josh had found a niche that satisfied his time with a camera.  

     That left me.  I had a litany of projects with other bands and musicians, which was great.  But what was keeping me busy in all that newly found downtime was creating tech for rigs.  I had three different editions with a large guitar company issued, along with pedals, and even a few unique electronic pieces that I held patents to.  

      I had found a balance between my commitments with the band, with my commitments to tinkering with the tech side, and being able to fucking live.  I was able to pursue interests apart from music.  I traveled - mostly alone.  It was strange, but I found solace in silent spaces.  It was more than enough to keep myself sane.

      I had a string of relationships that served their purposes at their given time, but nothing stuck for longer than a few months.  I was happy.  No matter what, I was happy.  I felt healthier than I had felt in years.  I got to spend an abundant amount of time with Dad and his bands.  It had become more important since the old man was beginning to actually feel his age.  We’d spend days going from tiny bar to tiny amphitheater to take in acts that we would debate over and appreciate together.

      We were returning to the states after touring Europe in support of our eighth album release, ready to strike out across the States and Canada.  I knew at some point I needed to look at the pending schedule, but we had a few weeks off.  I found myself at my cabin close to Yankee Springs.  Childhood nostalgia aside, it was the best retreat that I could find after the first part of the tour.  The Spring air was crisp and the scrap of snow that still haunted the ground made sure that I was mostly alone in the area.  By the end of the first week, I was actually sleeping like a normal fucking human, and behaving like one, too.

      I finally was able to wrap my head around getting back into work and after bantering back and forth with Sam about meetings with management, I looked at the pending schedule.  St. Paul was towards the beginning of the Midwest stretch.  I closed that shit down and walked out onto the porch with a fresh cup of coffee and my pack of smokes to settle into my old man rocking chair to watch the day go by.  I felt calm as the day whittled away.  My thoughts bent back to Ann Arbor and that girl that had caught me absolutely despising myself for resorting to flirting to get people to see our show.  She had captured my imagination the moment I saw the Deep Purple album between her fingers.  She had my spirit the moment she walked out of my hotel room door without a goodbye.

      Every time my path crossed hers, I fell harder for her.  Each time we parted, the longer it took to recover.  She took parts of my heart every chance she got, while leaving me with parts of her own in hopes of returning to reclaim.  We had been through St. Paul a few times, but I actively avoided any contact.  I supposed that was fear on my part.  I had been with Clara.  I was not that guy.  The last time through, however, I was alone, but I was healing.  I didn’t have the balls to check her socials.  I didn’t have the fortitude to see if she was still with him.  I just hoped that she was happy.

       I was not on the rotation for the big meetings with the suits this time around - Sam and Josh had drawn the short straws, they would whine about it and I just quietly flipped them off.  It gave me a few more days up north.  Danny brought his boys and we spent time down at the lake and running through the woods.  It felt good.  It felt like I was strong.  Ronnie and her family joined us, rounding out our nights with laughter and kids playing.  It was hard not to feel the mind tug back to easier times.  

       Tour started in Nashville and moved east, then across the south, heading west until we landed in San Francisco.  We turned north and worked our way back east with the intent of finishing in Detroit.  Despite small hiccups and a few of us being dogged by respiratory illnesses, we were cruising right along at a good clip.  We had built in family time every few weeks, taking a break to soak up kids and spouses/partners just for the sanity of Josh and Sam.  It was working well.  We had one such break between Rapid City and St. Paul.  Because of school, Danny found himself stuck hanging out with me as we waited for Josh and Sam to have their time.  We decided to push on to the Twin Cities, taking in the river and hanging out.  

      Wednesday I found myself itching to find her.  A voice in the back of my head was whispering, but I wasn’t paying much attention until it was nearly four in the morning.  I decided to check to see if she was even bothering with socials any more.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that she had posted three months prior - a picture of her with a group of friends.  She looked different.  Beautiful as ever, but there was something missing.  A shine?  I noticed that her smile was not as warm, her eyes were not as bright.  I felt a hurt pass over my chest as I scrolled back through, finding no evidence of him.  Was she alone?  I didn’t dare to text the old number I had still residing in my contact list, but I had pulled it up and stared at the picture of the cottage that I had as the profile picture.

      I convinced Danny to go to that pub she had taken me to.  I somehow remembered that there was live music on Thursday nights.  ‘Perhaps’ was the word that I was thinking about throughout the day.  I had no actual guarantee that she was even still in St. Paul.  I had just this tiny hope that she would somehow know that I was in town.  I knew her company was once again handling the graphics and ads for the show.  I also knew that her company was handling not just the show in Minnesota, but in Des Moines, all three shows in Chicago, Milwaukee, and Detroit.  Though it was someone else’s name attached to the team, I hoped that she had seen us on the roster, just as in times before.

      The pub had changed little from the one time I had been there, however, by the time we arrived, it was much more crowded.  I won’t lie and say that I didn’t spend my first twenty minutes looking around to see if she was there, because I did.  Danny was in conversation already with the bartender about the band that was in the middle of setting up on the small stage.  My eyes wandered around, landing on the booth that we had shared.  Everything with Y/n had been natural.  Never rushed.  Quick to laughter.  Always savoring every moment we had together.  It was like we knew our time was always fleeting and we just needed to absorb whatever we could.  Problem was - my  being wanted it like a drug.  Wanted her more than anything to just stay.

      We settled into dinner and a fresh round of beers as the band began to play - mostly covers of well trod tunes.  And they were good.  I sometimes missed the days of finding joy in just playing to play.  There was something to be said to get to hone an entire show, crafting how each piece was played over the course of a tour, but something else entirely to just being in the moment and the honesty in something so small.  Three songs into the set, however, I heard a familiar muted sound.  My brain ran through the guitarist’s rig like one of those fucking TV moments where the character figures out brain surgery or something.  I glanced at Danny before I made my move towards the stage.

      I pointed to the pedal and amp while catching the guitarist’s eye.  He looked at me like I was about to touch his grail or something.  I shrugged and started to turn when the most god awful shriek came across the speakers.  He had such a look of panic that I had to help at that point.  I grabbed the single pedal, disconnecting and tearing off the back.  It was totally fried inside.

     “Fuck no,”  he gasped as he knelt down.

     “Keep playing,”  I remarked as I shoved my fingers around the hot wires.

     It was a fairly easy fix, but I needed more cabling.  I tucked behind the amps, finding what I needed and restrung the whole bit.  By the time I returned to the pedal, six phones were out and up with faces that were beaming behind them.  I smiled and waved, knowing full well my anonymity was blown.  Oh fucking well.  

      “You’ve done this before,”  the guitarist said as I finished hooking him back up.

      “Yeah, Coachella was interesting.  Another time in Mexico City.  Nearly blew up somewhere in Italy once…  Imagine doing this with a few thousand eyes on you,”  I snickered as I took my bow and backed away.

       I was polite and stood for a few fan pictures before making my way back to my nearly cold dinner.  Danny grinned as I reached for my beer.

      “Show off,”  he snarked, leaning his back against the bar top.

      “Poor kid didn’t know he was about to literally go up in flames,”  I said before shoving a french fry in between my teeth.

      Their song wrapped and the singer pointed us out with a big “thank you to Jake fuckin’ Kiszka for your amazing assist”, to which all I could to do is fight an eyeroll and cheer them with a lift of my beer.  By the time I pushed away my plate and finished our drinks, we were ready.  I got the band’s credentials from the pub manager.  I wanted to be sure to send that kid a proper pedal and perhaps some gear, just to help them out, even if he never made it out of the bar scene.  There was no hope of seeing her in the wild, so what was the point of hanging out?  By the time we reached the hotel, our social media manager was on our asses about the “occurrence”.  She scolded us for not taking video ourselves as that’s the shit that gets eaten up.  We should just be thankful that there were a few steadfast fans that were being super positive on the feeds.  Sometimes, this business takes all the fun from the part that really only held what was important to me.

      We were playing Target Stadium come Saturday.  Friday, we welcomed Josh and Sam back in and we spent the evening just going over the set list and catching up on the family.  Mom and Dad would be there for each show from here through Detroit.  It was good to have them close.  I went to bed alone, knowing that she was out there, close, but not nearly close enough.

      Sound check went fine.  It was not the biggest venue we had played, but it was large.  It was something to have our sound pulsing through the air and striking the empty seats.  I was retreating off the stage when I saw a familiar figure, one that I thought I would not be seeing.  Her face was shadowed as she was talking to a few of the suits that were in attendance, but when her eyes met mine, there was a shine that I had desperately missed.  The slow smile that tugged and pulled across her lips set me on an edge that I could only tumble down from.  My feet turned towards her direction, and I was unable to even think about stopping from my path towards her.

      “Deep Purple,”  I said as I approached.

      The warmth of her laugh healed the distance.  She wrapped her arms around my shoulders as she stepped in close to me.  I felt all of me melt against her and hold on for dear life.  I breathed her in as I nuzzled into her neck.  I could care less of how it looked.  I felt her chest quiver against mine and knew she was moved just as much as I.  

      “I’ve been looking for my mouse,”  I whispered and smiled when I heard her breath catch in her throat.

      She moved just enough to allow her lips to meet mine in a chaste kiss.  I could taste tears and wasn’t sure if they were hers or my own.  We hid against each other until we could both recover.  I was sure my heart was leaping within my chest when I saw her eyes filled with the spark that had been missing in the pictures I had just seen of her.

      “I’ve missed this face,”  she said quietly, tracing her fingers down my jaw.  

      I could not stop myself from taking all of her in - the fine laugh lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes.  The way her cheek blushed when she realized I was studying her.  How her hands would not leave my body for more than a second.  Damn, she was the most beautiful she had ever been if I had to compare to all of our meetings.  She had taken my breath away and all of my reason with it.

      Josh called from behind me and I felt the moment get yanked away.  There were a few items left on the day that I had committed to and could not be put off.  I cursed as she frowned, which was only mirroring my reaction.

      “I should’ve-”  she started, withdrawing from me.

      “Wait.  I have these promotions, then…”

      “I knew you were here, Jake.  I should’ve reached out.  You have no time for this.”

      I cursed again as I looked back at my waiting twin and Mom, both wearing the same mischievous look.  “I have another break in about three weeks.  Will you be here?”

      She touched my hair, passing her fingertips across the streaks of gray amongst brown that I had allowed to be seen.  “I’ll be here.  Same number.  Just…”

      It was the best I could hope for.  By the time I hit the stage that night, it was like I was weightless.  I’m sure my brothers were taken aback by my energy of the evening, but they could fuck off.  Mom hugged me tight that night and asked if that was the girl I’d been waiting for - the girl that held me like I was her life.  

      “I’ve waited for her for so long.  I hope I can prove it to her that it’s finally our time,”  I said, as she held onto me.

      “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, honey,”  she said, filling me once again with all of the emotions of earlier.  

      The joy that had infused me was only spiked further as my phone pinged a notification when we were loading up on the buses.  It was from her.  I waited until I was away from curious eyes to open it.  

      I’ve made some changes.

      I had no idea what she meant, but I desperately needed to find out.

CD&FE, Part 7.2: Her POV

      Four words had never felt so heavy, and yet so freeing at the same time.  

      I’ve made some changes.

      Four words that I hoped were enough to convey that my path had been lost, found and re-paved since our last meeting. My life with Frank had been beautiful.  My life with Frank as we tried to make the long distance between us work was not so beautiful.  We tried.  There was no leeway for him - he had to be in Paris.  I had a little bit of give, working from his tiny little rooms that the university had provided, but my company was once again expanding.  I needed to be present to woo new clients.  I was needed to be present to ensure the quality of our work to our established clients who preferred to work with me in person.  It became us trying to prop up tent poles for a tent so riddled with holes and flooding with water that neither of us could survive.

      In the end, it felt bitter to be walking away after so much was put into the relationship.  It took more than a while to recover.  I fought from throwing myself back into work - which would have been the easiest thing to do. Bury myself in hours away from home; away from being alone.  I sold the apartment that we had so fallen in love with.  Everything was very civil in regards to dividing up the holdings.  I was thankful for that.  I found a little craftsman home from the early 1900s that was further out of the city on a scrap of land where I didn’t have neighbors two feet away from me.  It was… nice.  I continued to work from home three days a week.  I somehow found a balance - one that I knew I had been lacking.

      I took time to go home to my parents.  I took time to spend with my siblings and their families.  I took time to absorb Pat and Sidney’s family.  I took time to mourn my time with Frank.  Finally, I took time to really be well within myself.  I took about six weeks off, first to move into the new space, then to just be a regular human.  I did travel back to Duluth, but did not stay in the cottage that I had with Jake.  I walked the trails that we had slipped and slid across together.  I went to the mansion, but this time the gardens were in full bloom.  I knew my spirit bled for him.  I realized that there was no one else that I wanted.  There was no one else that understood me like Jake did; despite our time together adding up to little more than thirteen days.  DAYS.  

      At first, I did not want to believe that this deep seeded need was love for a man I knew in such an ephemeral manner.  I had promised that man to latch onto someone who could love me where I was.  And I did love Frank.  I am convinced that I loved him deeply.  However, there was always a dogged feeling that not all of my needs were being met - not the way that Jake fulfilled me.  What was wrong with me that I couldn’t fully accept that fact.

     I celebrated my forty-third birthday by doing nothing.  I was by no means feeling old or sad about my age.  Fuck that.  I was feeling better than I had in years.  I was strong and independent and …  When I had seen that the GVF ticket had been passed along to my old position that was now occupied by Cody Youngblood, I knew perhaps I was ready.  I had sheltered in place the last time they had blown through town.  This time, however, I paid attention.  I was upper, administrative management now, no need to sit in on the tasks that were once so important to me.  But I did take notice and follow the progress through.  I wondered if any of them realized that it was now my company that was handling them throughout the Midwest stretch.  We had our tendrils reaching across the states and even into Toronto.  

      I had checked the schedule of shows, knowing that this account was huge compared to even a few years prior.  Live acts had changed considerably with the advent of having streamed shows across multiple venues.  GVF were part of a dying breed that some speculated would be relegated back to playing on street corners and honky tonk bars.  But the band was persevering - along with many others that were proving that live music - not streamed performances - were still best practice.  I was stuck in Des Moines with a project that had simply imploded when I knew there was a break before playing the area in Minneapolis.  The client was pissed off that we had followed their wishes to a ‘t’ and it fell apart just as the project manager had predicted.  I soothed the ruffled feathers and salvaged what I could before trudging home, afraid that I was going to be too late.

     While on the plane, Pat sent me a link with a question if that was ‘my’ guitar player.  A friend of his had been at the pub that night and had video showing Jake helping a band out.  I stared into my screen.  What didn’t seem real was followed by all sorts of accounts that Jake had helped out a young guitarist during their set.  There were pictures splashed all over.  Each new picture came with a fresh fight to catch my breath.  I had to get home.  I needed to make my way to him.

      I was a ball of anxiety as I dressed and prepared to get into the sound check that was scheduled.  Cody was to be there taking care of our company’s tasks, but I thought dropping in would look good on such a large, long-term account.  At least that was my cover.  I passed through security and surprised Cody as he was running through his final digital checks.  It was an amazing set up.  It was hard not to feel the energy in the air.  We were deep in the guts of the stadium when the sound vibrated through my form.  Jake’s playing was unmistakable.  I smiled as we walked up through the layers of concrete until we were in the open air.  A group of techs were standing to the side, making adjustments and honing in on the sound that was needed.  We moved towards a group of management that we knew, and were going over the final touches as the check came to a close. 

      My chest was on the verge of rupture when the band started down the main stairs that would lead them right past us.  I kept my attention where Jake would eventually appear, but I turned away as I heard commotion towards the back of the stage.  My body felt hot and jumpy the longer I waited.  He was here.  He was so close.  I wondered if he would be happy to see me.  I panicked at the notion that he may just walk past me without acknowledgement.  I had not contemplated that part.  I just knew I needed to be here, at this time.  

      He had his head down as he descended the metal stairs.  I smiled at the amount of silver that had invaded his hair.  Clad in sunglasses, he looked soft in trousers, boots and a pull over.  I was glad to see that the mustache and goatee were in place, but once again, speckled with gray in the best way possible.  How was this man aging like this?  He was even more handsome compared to his form from years before.  He looked up and paused.  I hoped that he saw me - that his slowing of tread was because of me.  He took his sunglasses off and my breath stopped completely.  He was walking towards me, eyes filled with recognition and warmth.  I had no idea if it would be any kind of touch until he called me ‘Deep Purple’ and I had no choice but to fall into his embrace.

       There’s a feeling that can overcome you when you pull on your favorite outfit, or snuggle down into the right blanket, or how the sunshine hits your face after you’ve been upset and you just know it’s all good.  The moment he touched me was like all three moments in one.  Every inch of me felt right.  I felt elevated.  I could feel his body shaking against mine, like he was totally filled with joy and anticipation.  I felt like I whimpered as his mouth passed against the exposed skin of my neck.  It was by no means anything other than him trying to get closer, but just the feel of his breath against my skin was enough to know he was right there with me - in the same mindset.  

      Damn.  He called me ‘mouse’ and I lost it.  All of the emotions struck like a tide. His lips met mine.  My chest swelled with a pain of need and want and lust and most of all love.  Love that was passionate and greedy.  Love that was consuming.  Love that was nurturing and unquestioning.  Love that was his. 

     I heard his name being called.  I knew I was in the final seconds of whatever this was.  I did not want to let go.  My spirit tried to reach out and cling to him as he had to continue to work.  But the need for him to stay was shared between us.  I could see it in him - he did not want to go.  I touched his face, brushing away tears for both of us.  They called for him again and a look flared in his features that I wasn’t sure if he was about to explode in rage or melt into me with need.  I knew I was stammering to get words out.  I always felt like his time was precious.  Never more so than in that rush that was beginning to tug at him.  I watched as he physically struggled against it.

      Three weeks.  He said three weeks.  I’ve waited nearly twenty years, what was three more weeks?  

     Rarely do I ever take advantage of tickets for events that we get for free through work.  However, that night, I was in a VIP box watching Jake strut around like a god.  Those few around me noted that he seemed different - lighter.  I did not move from my spot the entire time, watching him laugh and interact with his brothers and the crowd.  I wondered if he knew I was there.  I should have texted him, but I needed this for me.  The last little scrap to tear away and accept that the man that the whole damn stadium was screaming for was mine.

      Three weeks.  I needed to focus on getting the rest of my shit in place.  I was by no means quitting, but I was stepping up and through an opportunity that would allow much more flexibility and time away from the office.  I purchased a ticket to get to the Detroit show.  It was my whole focus.  He texted every night, while I answered every morning.  I wanted to drop everything and run to him.  Strange how things had changed.  I had spent so much time focused on the now - but I wanted that ‘now’ to be nothing but him.

      “I’m happy for you,”  Patrick admitted as I was carrying my bag out to set by the front door.  “You’ve thought this through.  This is what you want.”

      “It’s what I want,”  I replied as I rushed back to get my light trench coat from the back closet.  

      “It’s good to see you this happy, Y/n,”  he said with a grin.  “The girls are going to miss you fiercely.”

      “I won’t be leaving forever.  Just not around quite as much,”  I said as I made sure my ticket was waiting in my phone.  “And perhaps their favorite auntie will send them all sorts of shit from all over that will drive their daddy crazy.”

      He shook his head with a naughty look.  “You do and I’ll break each one before it gets into their hands.  They’re still young enough that I can open and censor anything that you send.”

      I laughed loudly.  The incident of the harmonicas, kazoos, and slide whistles still gets talked about years after the actual occurrence.  Or the slime-fest that Auntie Y/n promised and was met with unexpected consequences of it in the girls’ hair and staining outfits for days.  The glitter shooters.  The craft fairs that we would hold in Sidney’s living room were epic, but glue, beads and cutouts were not furniture friendly.  And best of all, at the end of it, I could kiss them all and walk away from the annoyed parents and happy children.  

      “Regardless, they’re going to miss their Sunday time with you,”  he said, his lips held tight.

      “I’ll miss you too, Patty,”  I said softly.  “But I’m not going far, or for that long.  We’ve got a lot to figure out yet.”

      He was nodding, but I knew he was just hiding what he wanted to say.  They were concerned for me.  Hell.  I was concerned.  I never threw anything to the wind like this.  Every step I made was measured and planned and had a direction that had an end goal in mind.  This whole time.  My goal for now however, was Jake.  My direction was him.  I said I was not one of those girls to drop everything for a man.  That was true.  I still wasn’t.  But I was to a point in my career that I could dictate my role and my projects. 

     “I love you,”  I said, coming to a stop in front of him.  “I’ve loved you since second grade when you told me that I had a booger on my forehead.  I love your family.  I love your kids.  Fuck if I miss much of that, right?”

      “Love you too, punkin,”  he whispered, tugging me close. 

      I was on the flight to Detroit when I saw that Jake texted a picture from the stage of Comerica Park.  My heart flooded with his words:  Tomorrow morning will be here in less than twelve hours.  He was counting down.  I had a car waiting for me at the airport that would take me to the hotel before dumping everything and running my ass off to get to the venue.  I had a ticket for one of the boxes, but also told Cody to expect me backstage.  He was a sweetheart about it, knowing that I was not going to be there to see him.  That ruse had been blown.  He just said that all my passes would be at the will-call window.  True to his word, everything was there.  

      I got a beer and tucked into my spot - on Jake’s side, overlooking the stage.  I could not hide the absolute joy that flooded my system as they hit the stage and the whole stadium exploded in sound.  I had no idea how long the tears were standing in my eyes, or how they started to trail my makeup down my cheeks, but I was ruined by the midpoint of the show.  Amidst blushed cheeks and racoon eyes, I ducked out of the box and could only hope that I was able to hide my mess until I got to the ladies room.  I could hear Jake commanding another solo and it was like reverberating off my bones as I tried to pull myself together.

     “Hey, honey, you all right over there?”  

     Fuck.  I was totally caught being overstimulated and over emotionally wrought in the fucking bathroom.  I was reaching for a wad of towels when the woman who was asking me my status came into view of the mirror.  My insides froze.  She froze as well before she quickly recovered.  I had seen pictures of his mother that he had shown me during our time in Duluth.  I had seen her at the exhibition for Clara, though from a far distance.  

     “Well, I’ll be,”  she said, her tone shifting as she moved to get me more towels.  “You’re Y/n if I’m not mistaken.”

     I bit into my lip trying to stall just long enough to catch my breath.  I had no voice to give her so I nodded.

     “Jake said that he would be flying to St. Paul the moment he came off stage,”  she replied with a small grin.  “Guess he won’t have to now.  It’s nice to meet you.  I’m Karen.”

      “Y/n,”  I said, as I met her gaze through the mirror.

      “So, I’ll ask again - you okay?”

      I sucked in a hard breath.  “Just having a moment.  I don’t normally do things like this, but…  Honestly.  I didn’t want to wait.”

      The smile that spread across her face was so like Jake’s in those quiet, over the top moments that he could barely hold himself together that it just caused all the emotions to rupture out of me all over again.  She hushed and cooed as she rushed to help once more.  I tried to warble out a thanks, but it just made things worse.  It started with a chuckle, then a laugh and landed in a sob that was not my own.  Karen had her own tears in her eyes as she wiped at her face.

      “You really do love my boy, don’t you,”  she sighed, as if just giving herself over to her own emotions.

      All I could do was nod my head and we both just blurted out in a shared moment of joy.  She was waving her hands wildly as she was trying to reign herself in.  A ray of light shot across her features as she froze.

      “I have an idea!”  she announced.  “I’m not sure how you were planning on reaching him, but I think we need to really do this right.  Wait… How were you going to surprise him?”

      “I have backstage access.  I was thinking about trying to meet him after-”

      A twinkle crossed her gaze. “You’re with me.”

      She wrapped her hand around my wrist and pulled me out of the restroom and down the walkway.  We rushed past the box that I was in and moved instead into one just beyond the barrier that read ‘No One Beyond This Point’.  She pushed open the door to reveal a near identical box that I was in, but this one was furnished with a sidebar filled with iced drinks and snacks.  There were about twenty people in the room, all were just visiting and watching every now and then.  This was the family.  I felt way out of place as Karen waved me towards the glass.

     “Hon,”  she called out as we approached three men that were tucked at the fore.  “Hon…”

      The moment the man turned to look at his wife, I knew it was Jake’s father.  The way he leaned into her and listened and reached for her…  Fuck.  It was all Jake.  The shy little smile.  The secret language that he was able to share with his wife was all on display.  His eyes turned to me and he was instantly on his feet.  

      “Wow, fancy meeting you here,”  he opened with a wide smile.  

      “We have to surprise Jake.  You in?”  Karen beamed as she wrapped her arm around her man.

      “Jake doesn’t like surprises,”  Kelly remarked, brows furrowed.

      “He’ll like this one,”  Karen stated with finality.

      I couldn’t help the spike of nervousness that invaded as my eyes turned towards the glass.  Jake was stomping across the front of the stage racing towards the encore.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but how awful would it be if his parents were ready to spring right into whatever was ahead for the two of us.  I listened to them banter about how Jake was so looking forward to seeing me - how he had gushed over how we seemed to be the proverbial ships passing in the night over and over.  I looked down as the spotlight dimmed across him before he stepped forward again to be awash in brilliant light.  The silver in his hair was a halo around him.  My heart thudded in my chest at the sight.  I was putting myself in his parents’ hands.  How the hell did this happen?  

We’re down to one last posting to wrap this lovely little story up.  See you next week!

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatcherc @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter

[mirroredmemoriez]

Amanda and Cecilia think thonks (THIS IS NOW GENERAL RANDOM SAW THOUGHTS)

“I grifted off his name. Shitting on his legacy was just a bonus I’ll admit that.” - Cecilia on her fathers work/legacy

“It is I who will carry on John’s work after he dies.” - Amanda on John, who basically is her father and his work/legacy.

Don’t know why these lines intrigue me, however I’ve kinda stated before how I find the comparisons between these two interesting. I don’t believe they are perfect mirrors but there are some similarities to look at, alongside their major differences as well. Cecilia uses her fathers name to benefit herself, she takes advantage of it and others to get what she wants. She is aware that what she is doing is wrong and if found out, would tarnish the Pederson name. Whereas if we turn to Amanda, she heavily dedicates herself to continuing John's work and the Jigsaw legacy. However, obviously throughout the Saw franchise, she begins to question his methods and goes against them. One takes advantage, the other is taken advantage of.

“I rob, I steal and I cheat.” - Cecilia

“I’m a murderer. He took my life from me, so I just returned the fucking favour.” - Amanda

They both admit what they're doing isn't correct to a degree. However, neither has or likely will stop what they're doing. Cecilia scams and Amanda rigs her traps to be impossible, in a way her own form of scamming? What I mean by that is, the whole point of the traps is to be a lesson- It's supposed to be escapable, any survivor of it will tell you that... Obviously, there are some places to question the tests/traps even outside of Amanda, but we're not looking at that right now. Anyway! She basically scams people out of a chance of surviving due to her own past experiences. Lynn Denlon in Saw 3 being a perfect example of this really? She died due to the shotgun collar going off yes, but she likely would have anyway due to Amanda shooting her- Which Lynn had already PASSED her test by that point really.

(Honorary Angel Trap mention) I don't think I have to go too in depth about how Cecilia scams people, but she doesn't just take their money. She also in her own way takes their lives- They leave thinking the treatment will help them, spending savings and such when really it's fake. We’ve also got the fact that Cecilia outright murdered Gabriela. This comparison of their characters and the reception to them by the fandom/audience is something I find fun! Yes, people dislike Cecilia for being a scammer, but the main cause of people's hatred that I've seen isn't even what she did to John? At least here on Tumblr, it's the fact that she killed Gabriela.... The reason I find this ''fun'' is because well, Amanda was the one who put Gabriela in that scenario in the first place and yes of course- We have to acknowledge that Gabriela was part of the scamming which is why she was tested alongside her being a drug addict, however at the end of the day I think it's agreed upon that base level, she isn't a terrible person. She did what she did to survive. So I wonder, if Gabriela had just died in her trap, whether there would be uproar about her death? Would people be angry at John and Amanda the same way they are at Cecilia? And to answer my own question, I don't actually think so. I believe this because of the circumstances of death, reactions and the reason why. Cecilia didn't just kill Gabriela whilst she was in her trap, she did it afterwards. She effectively stole her ''second chance'' because of how money hungry she was. Cecilia also showed no remorse for doing such. Then we have Amanda's reaction.

It goes without saying she was likely rooting for Gabriela the entire time, she reminds Amanda of herself for one and she's also distraught because Gabriela did WIN. I see this as a catalyst to Amanda's future behaviour alongside deaths such as when she ''mercy'' killed Adam and then Laura from Saw 2.

I'm also going to drop this link to a previous post I made, which I think fits in to what I'm saying here and possibly adds to other points. (I have a tendency to repeat myself or ramble)

Almost nobody in the Saw franchise is either fully ''good'' or ''bad.'' That's what I like about it, they are people with faults- Some characters have more redeeming qualities/traits, others not so much. The most beloved characters are likely the Jigsaw apprentices (And Adam). At least the MAIN three ones. Which, let's go over their crimes!

Fun fact! These kinds of crimes are the type that would land you in PRISON. It goes without saying that the moral compasses of all 3 of these characters are basically broken or spinning constantly. Yet, as I stated before- Amanda, Mark and Lawrence are some of the fan favourites of the Saw franchise.... And don't get me wrong, I'm an Amanda fan myself for example! However, it's so interesting the reception these guys get compared to other characters in media and generally in the Saw universe. If we go black and white/narrow our views, they are actually the villains at some points. The crimes speak for themselves and generally whilst watching the movies, you're supposed to be rooting for the people to get out of their traps- Not always mind you, but a good percentage of the time. So many people justify their actions due to their backstories, a common thing for villains and or ''bad guys''. It's understandable, because the shit all of them have gone through would definitely leave anybody unhinged... At the end of the day though, that doesn't mean they should be excused. I think I'll end this here because I've gotten so sidetracked? As I always say at the end of something like this, these are all just my thoughts and opinions- Not fact or concrete either, I'm open to discussions with people who disagree with me for example! IF YOU'VE GOTTEN THIS FAR DOWN! THANKS FOR READING, ANYBODY WHO LIKES AND REBLOGS MY RAMBLINGS DO MAKE MY DAY. -MAL OUT

[majachee]

did you say….a power rangers x td au?

IVE BEEN TRYING TO MAKE ONE BUT HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO THANK YOUUUUUUUUUU I owe my life to you power rangers was the shit

please yap about it I’m begging

IT CAME TO ME IN A VISION EARLY ONE MORNING, AND IT HASN'T LEFT MY BRAIN.

I am writing a fic about it, though it isn't my number 1 priority wip atm cuz its just smth silly and self-indulgent, but because I now know there's someone out there REALLY DIGGING THIS IDEA, it'll be moved up on my list by a few notches lol

This AU is heavily focused on comedy and action, so rather than assigning TD characters to PR roles that they'd actually fit, I went with what would be REALLY FUNNY to write about.

So the Rangers consist of Harold (red), Duncan (Black), Noah (blue), Courtney (yellow), and Heather (pink).

These guys were assigned to work on a lab/project for their science class, specifically on the effects of pollution, littering, and climate change. No take-backsies, they're stuck with eachother and 4/5 of these guys don't want to fail... 4/5 of these guys are also assholes.

After some healthy doses of bitching, they agree to meet up and study an abandoned rig. But GASP! They get attacked by some guys... made of putty? Damn dude that's CRAAAAAAZYYY

... this is specifically based on the MMPR tv show, and I'm very tempted to draw the putty monsters exactly like how their costumes look in the show (silver fullbody suits with seams visible and monster claws/masks.) Listen, the putty monster costumes bring me A LOT OF JOY, I genuinely love this show dO NOT @ ME (unless its for mmpr fanart... please @ me...)

Anyways, these assholes fumble through the fight: Harold shows off the skills he learned at Defensive Steve's Defense Class, Noah gets thrown off a small cliff because he weighs less than a paper weight, Courtney feels the exciting rush of bloodlust for the first time... Normal stuff, really!

Of course, this ends up with all 5 of them being summoned (lazer kidnapped) to Power Rangers Headquarters! And it's revealed that Zorgon's role was taken by Chris McClean I'm SORRY. Look, it's funny. He has the same personality he does in canon, but instead of running a reality TV show centered around teens, he has to babysit a small group of teens who hate eachother. This will be really funny in execution, I promise.

Some of the kiddos have a few words to say about the Dinozords... cuz half of them aren't even dinosaurs. Also, they do NOT like the idea of being forced to work together on a color-coded superhero team of all things!

Drama Bot is Alpha, it focuses on the team's publicity ratings.

Rita Repulsa? Meet Blainely McBlamey!! SELF EXPLANATORY!!

I love Rita Repulsa, so Blainely fans consider this a very high honor.

The Green Ranger is Alejandro.

I plan on having the AU mostly focus on campy episodic adventures with some character development sprinkled in, and having the more important PR plots be... well... important and more thoroughly executed, if I ever get around to it.

As for the main gang themselves?

Harold is quite stoked and honored about being a superhero, and quickly ends up being the team leader and team morale – due to his smarts, and quick-to-forgive personality. He doesn't take shit from anyone, but he also won't hold grudges, especially on the battlefield... Though he does have a slight problem with going on long tangents about certain factoids (same...)

He has a vast array of skills and knowledge at his disposable... It all depends on how/when he uses said skills lmao. So far he's probably the least developed one in this AU, right next to Duncan. That'll change when I write more of them.

Courtney? Oh... Oh you KNOW she likes being a Power Ranger. She preaches about the importance of morals, and upholding laws, and how some people ought to respect the responsibilities that come with being a Power Ranger... and some people are more deserving of being recognized as heroes than others. Courtney I love you and I hope I do you justice... mwah... She very much likes taking the lead, and claims that she should be the team leader... and valedictorian, and class president... Oh yeah, you KNOW she worries about her grades a lot, especially after becoming a Ranger. She becomes a lot more productive with her passion as the story goes on, and learns to trust and respect her teammates.

Noah takes on the role of reluctant tactician... Aka the smartass. Physical activites aren't his forte, and he plans on keeping it that way. He relies on his Zord the most, and when that isn't available he resorts to evasive maneuvers and hiding while the other guys handle it. Him staying on the sidelines, however, does lead to him being more observant to the enemies' weaknesses, which will eventually lead to him having a more active role in the team as the main tactician. I'd imagine once that happens, he'll have a lot of interesting back-and-forths with Harold and Courtney. Still a sarcastic, laidback asshole, but more active in his participation when it comes to the team.

Duncan... is more aligned with his season 1 and early season 2 personality. No cheating or love triangles here. He is still an ASSHOLE, though, especially to Harold and Noah. They don't take his shit. I dont have much to say about him yet iM SORRYYYYYY

Asshole punk with a heart of gold... that's his schtick alright...

HEATHER MY BELOVED. She looks hella good in pink and she knows it. She doesn't like being a part of this team, but by god will she put the effort in, because she doesn't want to die to some clay-freak. Her zord-buddy is the pterodactyl, which she finds to be quite convenient, considering it's on the smaller side and can fly, very easy for aerial advantage. Very hellbent on defeating Blainely McBlamey, because once she's defeated they can all go on with their lives. Presumably... evil grin...

I don't know how to really put it in more fancy words, but like... Heather is the most active participant along with Harold and Courtney. She's very headstrong, tends to butt heads with Courtney a lot (not only are they both stubborn, but they also both view themselves as the leader of the group. Nobody realizes it's Harold, not even Harold himself, dramatic irony at its finest.)

Everyone on the team loses their shit when Alejandro (the enemy[tm]) gets a frickin' DRAGON-ZORD of all things.

If yiu have questions about specific characters or MMPR episodes, I'll do my best to answer lol

[fandomforg]

i love star wars time travel fix-it as much as the next guy, but we need to be thinking bigger! none of this ‘clone wars obiwan goes back to his childhood’ nonsense, let’s see how far we can rocket some unsuspecting force sensitive back in time

now, i’m not familiar with anything outside of movies/tv shows, so someone else could probably rocket them further, but i wanna send like rey, freshly skywalker’d, back to like pre jaster mereel’s death. yes i want her to be like 10 and feral and adopted by jaster. because he’s my favorite and i said so.

so she’s just standing there with her yellow lightsaber that is now far too big for her child hands, suddenly she has a shiny new buir and an eight year old brother that seems vaguely familiar??? like his name rings a bell?? but what could this little kid possibly do that would have such an effect on galactic history that she would know of him like 90ish years in the future???

so basically rey’s wracking her brain for that one pre-imperial history class she took that one time for anything useful she can do to help save the future. all she’s able to come up with is pretty much ‘palpatine bad’. rey would totally just go off on her own to kill him (and make sure he stays dead, the crafty bitch), but jaster seems strangely reluctant to let his ten year old daughter take a ship by herself to assassinate an extremely small-time politician from a peaceful world without any sort of explanation.

but regardless, rey kinda just ends up butterfly-effecting stuff as she grows up a little bit. like preventing jaster’s death and galidraan. in turn, leading to jango not building his revenge army and a generally more stable mandalore system, maybe?? all the while, she’s is getting some sick mando training and super cool armor, like any self-respecting jedi-adopted-by-mandalorians would.

actually, at galidraan, rey’s able to meet up with some jedi for the first time! hooray! dooku’s not quite sure what to do with this strange, unknown, armored, force sensitive teen with a weird, jerry-rigged lightsaber.

rey takes this opportunity to lay out every bad thing palpatine has done/will do in the most incoherent way possible. when asked how she knows this, rey panics and answers that the force told her so. unbeknownst to her, this is actually a completely valid answer to give these jedi masters, and the incoherence of her explanation made it seem even more plausible to be a string of confusing force visions, rather than being completely made up. the masters, particularly dooku, promise to look into the possibility of a sith and ask rey if she’d like to come to the temple with them.

she, of course, goes ‘yes, absolutely! i’ll go tell buir and jango that we’ll all take a trip to coruscant together!’ and the masters just grimace and go ‘yeah for sure that’s definitely what we meant’

they go to the temple, and amongst talks about the sith, and jaster just having a delightful time in the jedi archives (rey has a delightful time too, just think of how master skywalker would react to all these jedi texts!), rey gets to meet a preteen obiwan! fresh off of child soldier-ing on melida/daan! he’s a little traumatized at the moment, but rey is just so excited to finally recognize a historical figure other than her shitty grandpa. she then obviously latches onto little obiwan and like. vibes with him. obiwan is a little baffled by this cool older mandalorian teen that seemingly wants to be his best friend, but he’ll take all the friends he can get after the stressful few months he’s had. rey scares off anyone (padawan, knight, or master) who might give obiwan any shit for melida/daan related stuff. or just anyone that gives him any shit at all.

eventually, palpatine is arrested for tax fraud. he actually is pretty new at the whole ‘sith machinations’ thing at this point, so he didn’t hide his simple tax fraud very well and after his arrest, the jedi are able to get him for the more sith-y crimes. so then the jedi go on the hunt for the sith master.

while they do all that, rey is able to go back to mandalorian space with jaster and jango, making sure to have weekly holo-calls with obiwan and his friends. rey may really miss all her friends and the whole support system she left behind in the future, but she’s got a pretty good support system here as well. hopefully because of her, those friends she left behind in the future will be able to live full, free, and peaceful lives.

[our-death-means-flag]

Iz Hands x a reader with sensory issues. Mostly with voice though, not much with texture and other things. Reader is a good fighter and shit, much like Blackbeard, but just can't stand the constant yelling and noise. I just feel like it'd be interesting to explore that. Izzy noticing reader flinching or covering their ears when he yells and feeling bad. He wants to help but doesn't know how. Maybe they talk and Izzy realizes how much the noise effects them and is sort of like "How the fuck did you captain a ship before then" but later tries to make them or get the crew to make them something to block out noise. Sort of the 1700s equivalent to noise cancelling headphones.

Quiet

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader (implied romantic but vague enough to be platonic) Notes: You’re a well known pirate and friend of Ed’s, eager to be along for the ride with this strange new world of his. You're skilled enough that when you suddenly react strangely to Izzy yelling at you. He decides to investigate and then help. Warnings: some descriptions of sensory overload, Izzy being bad at comfort (he’s trying)

Honesty, you’d been doomed to this fate the moment you were on a ship with Izzy yells-as-a-hobby Hands.  The only reason it hadn’t happened already was purely luck. But your luck could only last so long.  

You’d had sensitive hearing your whole life. In all honesty, it was an asset as much as it was a hindrance. After all, no one had  been able to sneak up on you. But most times it was a problem. You never knew why but occasionally sound just became unbearable.  Voices in particular. Sometimes hearing someone yell felt like taking a point blank cannon blast to the head.  Usually you could pretend that none of it bothered you. You had developed an art to hiding your flinches and holding back your reactions during your long and successful pirating career. 

But you couldn’t always manage that.  And currently, you were having an incredibly hard time.

It probably wasn’t actually Izzy that pushed you over the edge. Well, at least not only Izzy. The crew’d had a party the night before to celebrate a really good raid. That alone was a lot. 

And now Izzy was yelling as usual. Your brain was so busy screaming about how loud it was you actually had no idea what he was actually complaining about. Each syllable grated on your mind. You were as tense as a bowstring trying incredibly hard to focus on anything but the sound to no avail. Your hands almost trembled so you let go of the rigging you were trying to redo to try and calm the shaking. 

Everything was so damn loud.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus. No dice. You had to get out of here. 

Loud…

Maybe you could make up a reason? Maybe you could say you were hungover from last night's party? Or maybe you just weren’t feeling well? Though, both of those excuses were liable to get you yelled at by Izzy Hands for slacking off… Shit.

Loud.

Maybe you could escape to the stores? When had anyone done inventory last? Or you could climb up to the crows nest? That might be quieter? Maybe-

If you were not as overwhelmed as you were, you would have definitely heard someone getting closer but now, you only realized when a hand grabbed your arm and spun you around. The suddenness of the action did not help your racing mind. Neither did the fact that Izzy Fucking Hands was currently yelling in your face. Your long suffering composure finally broke and you flinched back, clasping your hands over your ears and pulling away. You felt your back hit the railing and your shoulders shaking from gasping. 

Quiet.

Everything was suddenly quiet.

More so than it would be if you had properly covered your ears. Something was up. You peeked your eyes open and saw the whole crew staring at you, dead quiet. Even Izzy, shockingly, had backed up, looking confused at you.

Shit.

“I-” You managed. “Uh.” You fumbled for words, hands still clasped over your ears. “I’m gonna just go… Yeah.” While everyone was still stunned you booked it, pulling one hand off one of your ears just long enough to open a door and disappear below decks, found a quiet corner and curled up in it. You tried to steady your breathing, hands still covering your ears.

Slowly but surely your mind calmed down. You kept your hands where they were but you were feeling a little less like your head was being ripped in half and your brain finally managed to reboot. You groaned. It had been ages since the last time you slipped up this badly in front of people. At least that time you'd been able to write it off as a symptom of blood loss on account of the hole in your side.  This time? This time, you had no excuse. (Maybe you could go with the ‘pretend to be hungover’ plan and just deal with Izzy’s lecture later…)

Izzy wasn’t able to sneak up on you this time since you weren’t completely out of it. The moment the storeroom door opened you looked over. The moment you noticed him you dropped one of your hands into your lap, trying to play it off like you were leaning your head on the other one. “What do you want?” You tried to imbue your voice with some ‘I’m the captain and you have to listen to me’ energy you usually managed to have but not this time. Your voice came as an exhausted whisper.

Izzy looked very odd, lingering at the door like a nervous shadow. “I-” He started at a slightly louder than speaking noise and you jumped ( your body having apparently completely given up on the fight to stay unnoticed). “I’m sorry… I think.” He finished in a stage whisper.

You raised a brow, both from the strangeness of Izzy being so considerate and the strange phrasing. “You think you’re sorry?” You echoed.

“The boy, Spriggs, said I should apologize.” Izzy elaborated. “Though I’m not sure what for.” A pause. Izzy glanced around and gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your confusion only intensified. This was very odd for him. Sure the apology was stilted and awkward but it seemed genuine. Izzy Hands genuinely apologizing to you… You never thought you’d see the day… He visibly fumbled for more words so you decided to put him out of his misery. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Look, I’ll tell everyone that you apologized and everything’s all fine. You don't have to do this. I officially accept your not-really-apology for whatever you said.” You commented, chuckling weakly. “You’re free to ditch me.”

“You don’t know what I said?” Izzy looked genuinely baffled.

You shook your head, pulling both hands away from your ears and letting them fall into your lap. “Not a clue. I couldn’t hear you.”

Izzy tilted his head. The gesture looked so odd on him. “Is there something wrong with your ears? Should I get the doctor?”

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong… Well, if there is something wrong it’s been like that my whole life…” Izzy only looked more confused. You considered for a moment. Eh, fuck it. Might as well… “It’s just a thing that happens with me. Sometimes sounds are just…” You motioned vaguely with your hands. “Too loud. Just the yelling and all the noise makes it hard to think.”

“You can’t handle noise?” Izzy asked, still looking disbelieving. You nodded. “Then how the fuck did you captain a ship?” He was clearly still making an attempt to be quiet so his words came out as more of a hiss than a yell.

You shrugged. “I got good at pretending it didn’t bother me. When I was a captain, I could stay in my cabin and avoid most of the noise. Can’t exactly do that anymore, can I?”

“Pretending? So it always bothers you?” 

You nodded. “Yup. Sometimes it’s just too much. With yesterday’s raid and the party… I guess it was a bit much for me. Everything was just too loud. Pretty pathetic huh?” You laughed lightly at yourself. Of course Izzy was going to have a fit over you ditching work for something so stupid.

“Impressive actually.” Izzy stated bluntly 

You did a double take. “What?” If it was supposed to be sarcastic then it was delivered wrong. 

Izzy seemed surprised at your surprise. “What? You work through all that.” You weren’t convinced. Izzy sighed. “You work on a ship full of idiots who won’t do their damn jobs even if you served it to them on one of Bonnet’s stupid fancy plates, and you work through all that shit?”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Was that a compliment you just gave me?” You chuckled. “Who are you and what have you done with Izzy?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off.” His voice was still soft. “Does anyone know?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s too easy to exploit in a fight. Don't want to risk it.”

“Not even Ed?”

“No, I think he knows there’s something with me and sound. He’s observant enough but I never told him.” Sure you and Ed had been kind of friends before, for a long time too but before the Revenge, the idea of being allowed to be that vulnerable (even around someone you trusted with your life) felt wrong.  Izzy seemed weirdly stoic for a moment. You wondered how he felt, knowing a secret his captain didn’t. “You can tell him if you’d like. I’m not going to ask you to keep a secret from your captain.” You knew how Izzy’s loyalties lied between you and Ed, but you still didn’t want to put Izzy in an uncomfortable situation because of your screw up.

A moment passed in comfortable silence and you stretched and stood. “Well, back to it…” Izzy held up a hand to stop you from leaving. “What?”

“You’re taking the rest of the day off.” You could tell he meant it as an order even though his voice was still soft. 

“No, no. I can get back to work.” He stared. “Seriously I’m fine. I’ve worked through this sort of thing before.”

Izzy huffed and for a moment you thought he was going to back down but instead. “Take the day off. That’s an order from your first mate.”

You sighed. You weren’t winning this. “You got it, first mate Hands. Don’t hesitate to get me if anything comes up.” He nodded curtly but you doubted he’d get you for anything short of an emergency.  You walked out into the hall towards your cabin. “Also, thank you.” You called over your shoulder. “It was nice of you to come by to check on me, even if it was under duress.” 

“I will take your break back.” Izzy grumbled but you knew it was an empty threat. He’d had to convince you to take the break after all. 

You chuckled. “See you around!”

The day after what you were mentally calling ‘the incident ‘ you came on deck to find nothing unusual. It was quiet, as it usually was. Even back when you were a captain, you always came up on deck early. It was calm and you could get a lot of work done. You waved at Izzy when you came on deck. He returned the wave (after looking behind himself as if he assumed you were waving to someone else).

As the day continued the crew slowly trickled awake. Quite a few people asked if you were “feeling better”. Apparently, Izzy had told everyone you’d had a headache (Sans Ed of course, you caught the slightly concerned looks he gave so, you gave him a thumbs up in return). As soon as the crew was on deck you were already bracing yourself for more yelling. It didn’t take long for someone to piss Izzy off enough. You could see Izzy gearing up for a yelling match while Wee John and Frenchie seemed unimpressed and you were already mentally preparing for the sound. 

It didn’t come.

You heard Izzy instead hiss out a cold “Wait.” at barely above a whisper. Whether it was the unusualness of it all or the serious tone of his voice, they listened. Izzy quickly made his way across the deck to stand at your side. You raised a brow in silent confusion. “Cover your ears.” He mumbled, clearly making an attempt to be quiet. It was strange but you humored him, curious as to what was going on.

As soon as your hands were covering your ears Izzy went back to where he was standing and (after confirming one last time that you had your ears covered) went straight into yelling. 

Huh.

You assumed he'd drop it after a bit. He was just giving you time to recover. That didn’t happen. Instead it became a part of Izzy’s usual routine. When he was going to start yelling, he'd always let you know, at first he had to run up to you, then later all it took was a glance. The heads up did help quite a bit. 

Of course you couldn’t always cover your ears. Whenever you had your hands full and couldn’t do what the two of you usually did, Izzy would instead switch to whispering his threats, grabbing whoever he was talking to and pulling them close.

“They respond better to it as well.” Izzy confided to you one morning, both of you leaning against the railing, drinking coffee and relaxing after a successful raid.. 

You grinned. “I’ve used that strategy for ages. You’d be surprised how intimidating whispering can be.”

Izzy chuckled lightly. After that he stayed quiet for a long moment. You raised a brow. You could tell he was trying to figure out how to bring something up. You decided to stay quiet and let him organize his thoughts.

You were rewarded for your patience by a jumpscare as Izzy just awkwardly shoved something into your arms. You looked down to see you were holding a box? You looked back at him and raised a brow. “It’s a very nice box…” You commented somewhat cheekily.

Izzy was doing a really good job at not looking at you. His face even looked a little flushed. “Piss off. Just open the damn box before I toss it into the damn ocean.” He mumbled. His tone was nowhere near as harsh as usual. 

You smiled, gently opening the box. Inside were a bunch of small pieces of… You picked one up. It was malleable in your hand. Wax. It was some kind of wax. 

“They're earplugs. Apparently they’re for your ears.” Izzy stated bluntly, answering your unasked question.

“In what way?”

Izzy sighed, seemingly unsure of himself. “You put them in your ears. Got them on the raid. Had a very well stocked clinic.” You nodded, you remembered Roach being excited about it all. “Willing to bet half of that shit was some kind of experimental treatment. Not even Bonnet knew all of them so it’s not just fancy. Saw the surgeon’s log. Apparently they’re designed to protect a soldier's ears when they’re fighting.”

“And you grabbed these for me?” You asked, already smiling, you pulled two pieces out and pocketed the box.

Izzy flushed more. “I- Well…I  thought they’d be most useful to you. So…”

“Thank you.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, you felt the flinch even as he tried to play it off. You immediately moved to pull away but Izzy moved his arm slightly as if to follow so you left your hand there. You’d been working the wax in your hand so it was already soft enough to try. You gently placed one into your ear, switching the hand on Izzy’s shoulder to put in the other. 

It actually… Kind of worked.

“I think they work… Izzy, could you yell for a bit.” Izzy chuckled at the request but he did step back a bit and shout. You could hear him well enough that you knew he was calling your name but the sound wasn’t overpowering like it normally was.

“Holy shit.” You whispered. 

Izzy was quick to rush to your side. “Are you alright? Did it work? I-”

You cut him off by placing a hand on both his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He fumbled for a moment then shivered but clung to you almost desperately.

“Thank you Izzy. Seriously. It means a lot to me.” You whispered.

As close as you were, you could hear Izzy’s soft, “Of course. I’m glad they help you.” 

You had a few minutes before the crew would come on deck. So you closed your eyes, enjoyed the quiet and stayed where you were until then.

[spamtoon]

PKNA Week... um. Five? Five

Hi! I'm Spam, I'm WAY behind, you know this by now. I'm letting myself read PKNA as a little break between reading allergy information because lord my head is spinning. It's two time

TWO ! we got some DOS action going on here! im stealing someone else's post where they went haha. dos! because uno--sorry

sick vr helmet donald has going on--i'd love for uno to put me in the neuron pod. sorry thats what im calling this thing because the wires kinda look like neuron. shoutout to the plane in the back

dhasam-bul. alright. can get behind yellow and pink those are colors i like despite spam being incredibly purple... oughgh the colors in duckburg are nice too sorry i just like how its pastel rainbow in this comic

uno so silly... we need more uno laughing at donald's suffering i think

donald's stupid smug face i'm so mad. men to say Who's laughing now?

shoutout to this random camera guy in the background. ooh... if there's a hacker type situation. and there's vr. is donald gonna go in the computer PLEASE that was always my favorite like. trope as a kid. when they'd go inside a video game or the internet or something and you'd see all these dated 90s depictions of technology it was the best looking thing to me no matter the quality of the episode itself. yes lets go digital was my favorite episode of phin.eas and ferb

i love how uno's always so cheeky. and you know what. he deserves to look down on other computers. ough the uno donald expressions are always silly in these opening sections i'm so glad uno's around so often

yesssss.... i should have guessed this by the fact there were all sorts of ones and zeroes on the cover but oho. ohohoho...

i would screenshot these donald uno panels too but there's so many of them and they're all so cute on this page ough. the little cleanup robots uno sent out are cute. not like in a megavolt way but in a "that's cute looking" way sorry i have to specify now

JFIOEAJFOIAEJ UNO JUST DROPPING DONALD DOWN THE ELEVATOR im so

sorry uno smiling is always a must screenshot

oughoughogugohgoghough now this is the SHIT i came here for! polygons. even like fake polygons. ohoho. oohhoohoo the clouds and the abstraction are a welcome addition but i like how he's swimming in it. yessssss

i don't know i'm just a sucker for this kind of like. abstraction view of the internet you know. its literally not how it works but damn it its so charming anyway. cyberspace...

this shot of angus fangus is so goofy like with the dialogue and everything. whiny man

the bubbly little like. glitch effects. ooh. ooh. i like how he punishes donald for being just a little selfish

okay so That's where that's going. angus fangus is seeing a miku-like projection right now i see i see sorry. okay now the king kong is kinda sick i'll give them that. rigging projection lights...

sorry im just laughing at all the goofy frames. like donald turning his back to uno suffering

i love the transition from serious donald to silly goofy donald. like all donald is silly goofy donald but paperinik just being like woof! i'm beat! after Deductioning is a treat to see okay

the cops harassing a guy just because he "looks foreign"? now that's the police!

donald likes going into cyberspace doesn't he...

i love how lying is bolded here. makes me think he's saying it like Lying! (jazz hands). the jazz hands are essential but he doesn't have hands so jazz... thoughts. programming. his processors are overloading!! his ram is getting too much information!! he's getting overstimulated!!

uno vocaloi.d when

i like how uno's first thought is uhhhhhh you see donald we could ummmmm toon.town online it! we could smash him, if i must proclaim, with hammers!

3d projector technology (at least for vo.caloid performances) literally us just like. using mutliple projectors with different things at different angles to produce one single image, so! i like how donald calls angus zuchini brain. reminded of bush brain and melon head...

this is my favorite person at the computer fair they slap

this panel slaps... sorry i just. pkna's hatching when used effectively sure is used effectively

:((((( god this plan is actually good like the dramatic irony here is spot on. donald can't tell why uno is stressed his expressions... the shattered uno orb.....................

ah i guess they are uno now. honestly bummer considering i thought they were going the other direction with it but considering this was bad enugh to make ducklair himeslf come back i should have probably seen this coming. and that he's two, uno with a triangle head. alright and he's already world dominating i miss uno

UNO!!! little stick ball uno... little guy's on backup now...

uno's face... HUFOEAHFE the way that he just SPROINGed away the electronic master key

this was a great issue! pkna does take a lot more to like. read than it does to engage with anything else but damn it. im a sucker for virtual crap and its always nice seeing a plethora of uno

[kijosakka]

how. how would i even write out a proper fic of dramaturgy au,,

cutting this off bc i got too caught up in myself and rambled

ok umm,, dramaturgy as an au is just so character study-ish and generally character-focused,, plus the initial developments made on island are kiinda important to the cast dynamic?? so as i see it there are a few options:

A: rehash/go through the unchanged plot of island, the TDDDDI special, some eps of WT, using it to develop the Situation from other characters perspectives while maybe having one or two to emphasize noahs characterization

it gives a lot of time for character developments outside of noah himself, and time to reinforce noahs own characterization using that outside perspective,, but could potentially get boring/long-winded, since nothing different happens and its literally just Characters Having Screentime

^ maybe sub a full going-through with character vignettes and specific scenarios throughout island/the special/celeb. manhunt or after TD/eps of WT??? i guess you could also slot smth like this in with the other ideas aswell

B: begin the hypothetical fic post-jamaica challenge and leading into london, use it to exposition some minor things and generally establish characterization before getting into challenges and actual canon divergence

it doesnt drag on (as much atleast), gives you enough time with enough cast members to establish what the others think of noah and what noah thinks/how he behaves and why (probably slot in his distrust of alejandro here??), more challenges gives noah more chances (and reasons) to break character, though the character development has to be slow and conflict should probably be built up (but im kinda partial to this one ngl)

C: kindof half-baked but beginning in london (i’m imagining literally at his eel line), where hes eliminated that episode, but comes back via comeback challenge; arc kicked off by being so pissed off that he has to come back and do the Same Shit yet again (and probably because of producer-rigging. again.)

the conflict/character dynamics would move a little faster, its less to trudge through and figure out canon changes like the butterfly effect of noah staying in the game in london, but having less characters to have relationships/interactions with (but making the ones had can be more developed/rounded as a result), less Time in general, the original idea of noah ‘unmasking’ alejandro is kiiinda less impactful this late into the game?? slightly i feel like

or D: even more half-baked than C and kinda just 'possible' and feeling out of place, but you could have noahs arc happen in all-stars instead (smth smth the audience was vv dissatisfied with how he ranked in WT and so he gets brought back)

^ this is mostly bc i like the motif of noah having eel-pond related scars and seeing it as a physical reminder of where 'acting like the camera isn't there' can get him (but you could potentially fit this into the C idea, posing it more as a bitter feeling/theme rather than a motivation to continue his facade)

i dont really like this one from a storytelling standpoint, and it doesnt make much sense since theres no character motivation via unmasking alejandro since everyone already knows at this point?? idk it is there though

umm yeah thats all ive got, i guess you could also mismatch ideas like B&C so the fic starts post-jamaica but noah still gets eliminated, or have noah eliminated after london but still winning the comeback challenge and coming back swearing vengeance (within his own head mostly) or smth like that

i kinda wanted to just put this Out in the World and let it simmer before i start combing through WT to make the allotted ‘official’ canon changes of this au lol

(and not to mention theres still the issue of the actual Ending,, does he win?? is his winning both symbolic and the first genuine, intentional break of character he makes, to the audience and his peers beyond the unintentional ones hes made along the way???

smth smth character growth, hes learned how to let himself break character but now hes learning to do it intentionally too??? < im partial to that but im also biased towards noah and any hypothetical win of his

^ or does he lose?? and his ending watching the finalists parallel the island bit where he Did Not Care but now??? idk idk the longer i think the more i like the whole symbolic win thing but in terms of storytelling/the Themes, does it Work. i do like to think so

the original draft of this idea has noah not in fact winning but it also had a strangely,,,,, vindictive tone?? that might not be the word but the Themes were different and noah was more scheme-ish rather than defense mechanism-having so im thinking the ending should change as well)

[sweepseven]

Saw Furiosa and am pretty surprised at how quickly I just...stopped thinking about it.

I knew comparing it to Fury Road would be a no-go because that movie is basically perfection and that just sets you up for disappointment. I went in thinking okay, it's a movie in its own right, let's fucking go.

And I just don't feel like I was treated as smart as I was by Fury Road. So many explanations where FR just let us figure shit out or be yanked along for the ride. So many names - why on earth do I need to know the names of every Dementus crony when only TWO of the five wives were called by their actual names in FR? And most importantly (spoilers from here on out): why didn't Joe care that his latest wife disappeared and then very conspicuously reappeared as a pseudo-war boy?? It just didn't feel thought through. I was really surprised by that.

The movie didn't seem able to decide if Furiosa was the title character around which things happened (like Max in FR) or if we were actually and actively following her story. Many times I thought the story might be more effective if we got more time with Joe, wasteland politics, and how she moved within that world. Every major story beat seemed to serve a broader sense of "and that's why this happened" rather than just. Telling a cohesive story.

I was psyched as fuck to see Max. But I also was wondering...should I expect to see Ace? Nux? And what purpose does Furiosa's "remember me" to Joe in FR even serve anymore? What does she want redemption for, if all she ever did was fight to survive and seek revenge? And I'm no fan of the comic, but it and FR did so much more to imply what happened to her as a wife than this movie did, to the point that it felt strange. Some elements of Furiosa seemed to actively undermine or cut short their impact in FR.

Even the war boys looked a little "Kirkland brand" - I know it's because it was an earlier time and in some ways less desperate resource-wise, but it wasn't that long before the events of FR. They didn't look lean to the point of alarming, nor worryingly sick. They kinda just looked like dudes having a wild time. And I gotta spare a moment to say how disappointing the reliance on CGI was. FR was a festival of practical effects and Furiosa was so distinctly not. I missed knowing for certain the world was real.

I dunno. I gotta see it again - I can't in good conscience say narrative flow was definitely an issue when FR's narrative flow feels like being yanked behind a war rig at first face. But the picking and choosing of details left me wanting, and not just because FR set such a high bar. Furiosa at times felt like ticking boxes and filling blanks, not telling a real story. After a nearly ten year wait, I'm bummed to come away feeling "that's what they went with?"

[bubble-popping]

haven't posted much and the cupid!dream au is taking so long (six classes in uni is NOT fun) so have some zombie apocalypse au drunznoblade

He pulled the trigger again, awarded by a mere click. Arms braced for a recoil that didn't come. Dream sucked in a breath and dropped to the smooth floor, fumbling in his pockets. "Shit! I'm out!" Another uneventful click, this time not from his gun, but that of his companion's. Techno lowered beside him behind the 'safety' of the register counter, patting his ammo belt desperately. Nothing. "Fuck. Me too…"

"Where's our stash?" The shorter asked, glancing around their tiny area of space. They were thinly protected on the sides and behind them, with the rows of other counters providing a little extra cover. Techno looked down as well until his eyes found the nearest wall with a few doorways to the bathrooms.

He cursed under his breath, "We left it in the damn bathroom, didn't we?"

"Fuck. What do we do!?" Dream whispered. Out of habit, not because he truly thought their 'hiding spot' effective.

"Ya got yer knife on ya, right?" Techno glanced back from peeking over the side. There were still several infected ambling towards them, hissing and groaning. Too many to take on at close range. They'd be overwhelmed in minutes.

Dream jolted as if realizing something he'd forgotten and hurried to retrieve the switchblade in his hoodie pocket. "Yeah?"

"Better hope yer aim is good. We'll pick off the closest ones and book it for the back exit."

"The back exit!? The one that's rigged with an alarm, Techno!?"

"Yes, that one! It's our only route. They're blockin' the entrance."

"That's just gonna attract more-"

"Do ya got a better plan!?"

"Yes, actually! I'm the one that's immune. So, I'll-I'll create a distraction while you-"

"While I what? Leave ya behind?? That's not happenin'!"

"And we can't risk a horde this close to the safe-house!"

They were interrupted by an Infected trying to vault over the counter, succeeding only in getting its arms and head past the top. Dream tensed, dodging the flailing appendages while Techno reeled his arm back and planted his own knife deep in the Infected's skull.

"Aw fuck it!" The dirty blond jumped up and went after the closest walking corpse. A heavier set one, he held it back with his forearm to its chest and stabbed it in the forehead then pushed it towards another, sending both bodies to the floor.

"Dream! Goddammit!" Techno yanked the blade out and rushed to join his friend's side, picking off another that rounded an aisle corner.

"Just run, Techno! Get our stash from the back!"

"And leave ya out here by yerself? Not a chance!"

"Techno, just please, for once, listen to me!" He whirled around to face the taller man. "You need to go and get-" An Infected appeared from behind him, arms outstretched and missing half its face.

"Dream!" Techno tensed, ready to spring forward, but his heart caught in his throat and panic coursed through his veins because it was too close, he'd never make it in time-

Just as Dream twisted and raised his hands to block the attack, an arrow whizzed by and nailed it in the temple. It shrieked and fell to the side, a harmless heap. Dream stared at it for a moment, shocked, and looked back to see Techno shared the sentiment. Another arrow flew and embedded in the head of a limping Infected, right between the eyes.

"Get down!" Techno hissed. They both sought cover behind an aisle, huddled close and struggling to quiet their breathing. The arrows continued to rain until all nearby Infected were on the ground, leaving the air tense and silent.

Footsteps thudded against the smooth tiling, steadily getting closer. Dream unconsciously pressed himself to Techno, teeth clenched, heart pounding.

Finally, a cloaked figure entered their line of vision. Tall, combat boots, empty quiver on their back, and wielding a crossbow. Blond strands hung from beneath their hood. Techno grabbed his hand. Dream squeezed back.

The stranger knelt to yank their arrow free from one of the Infected's cranium. Then, they stood, reaching to slide the arrow in their quiver, and moved to go for the next. "You're welcome, by the way," they spoke, "least y'all could do is say thank you…" Dream's heart stopped. He recognized that voice.

Without thinking, he let go of Techno's hand and darted into the open. Techno's quiet shouting to get back here, idiot! fell on deaf ears.

"Punz?" The figure had already been turning towards the noise, but now froze. Slowly, they pulled their hood down. Light blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Dream teared up as well.

"Dream?" They said in utter disbelief, jaw slack.

Dream wasted no time in running to his friend and engulfing them in a tight, warm hug. He clutched his cloak, internally begging that this wasn't all a twisted, elaborate dream. After a moment of hesitation, they fully reciprocated, holding on just as desperately.

"You're alive," Dream murmured, choked up from the tears.

"I'm alive," they whispered back. Dream cried harder, burying his nose in the side of pale blond hair.

"I missed you so fucking much…"

"Missed you too, man."

The dirty blond abruptly pulled back, just enough to look Punz in his eyes. "I tried calling you! When everything first went down, I tried-I tried calling everyone!"

"Yeah, I wasn't really, uh, checking my phone much." They shrugged.

"We went by your house too and you weren't there. God, I thought those things got to you already. I thought-" Dream cupped his face, raking his gaze over every inch of skin as if looking for injuries.

"Aw, c'mon, dude. Have a little faith in me, would ya?" Punz leaned into the too familiar touch that brought a wave of bittersweet memories to the surface.

"I do have faith in you! Doesn't mean I was expecting you to come in with a fucking crossbow like that!" He laughed and Punz joined him. When the pair settled, they merely stared into each other's eyes, basking in the comfort of someone they know.

That is until the sound of very pointed coughing interrupted them. Techno stood before them, brow raised and warily eyeing the new blond. "You know this guy, Dream?"

"Oh, Techno, yeah, sorry. This is Punz!" Dream broke out of the embrace only to hug Punz to his side, gesturing according as he spoke, "I've known them since high school. He's one of my closest friends, actually. Punz, this is Techno. He saved me when the outbreak hit the area and we've been traveling together ever since."

"Hey." Punz waved.

"Hallo." Techno waved back before promptly returning his attention to Dream. "Anyway, we should get goin'. I'm gonna go grab our bag." He then turned on his heel and headed for the bathrooms.

They watched his retreating form and, once he was out of earshot, Punz muttered, "Kinda weird guy."

"Yeah, a little," Dream agreed with a short wheeze. "He's cool when you get to know him though, I promise."

"If you say so…" Punz trailed off. When Dream glanced to him out of curiosity, he found a fond smile and soft baby blue eyes. "I really am so glad to see you. Never thought I'd see someone I recognize in this wasteland."

"You and me both, dude."

[bihanspookies]

Inspo from this girl getting upset at the claw machines we have at my job so thank you random citizen for this fic idea lmfaooo

Alex: @chadillacboseman

——-

Just one more try and that’s it, just one more and she’d call it quits.

Is what Alora told herself about 10 minutes ago.

Her and Alex had decided to head off to a local arcade, a much needed break after a run that had narrowly gone to shit. While Alex sat at a booth ordering appetizers for them, Alora decided to walk around and see if any of the games caught her interest. He watched her weave her way through the crowd, the bright pink, yellow and blue lights shining off her skin before she turned and disappeared behind an arcade game.

Alex had given his order to the waiter and patiently waited for Alora to come back.

When their food had shown up and she still wasn’t back, he sent her text to let her know that her nachos would get cold (or eaten) if she wasn’t back in 10 minutes. He checked his phone several times to see if she responded or at least read it but saw no indication of the sort.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until it was nearly an hour later, Alex’s food long gone and the cheese on Alora’s nachos taking an almost plasticky hard form. Alex knew what it meant if she hadn’t come back by now; fighting with a 12 year old over a game or…

He slid out the booth and walked around until he spotted those two familiar braids of red hair.

He approached her from behind and watched, eyebrows raised while Alora paid him no attention and instead focused all her energy into getting just one toy from claw machine. He remained silent, holding back his comment as he watched the Toad plush fall out of the claws hooks and tumble back down into the corner of the machine.

Quickly he looked at Alora’s reflection in the glass, noting the very subtle tick of her muscle under her eye. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when she whipped her head to face him.

“Give me 50 cents.” She had demanded, already holding a hand out to him. Alex scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Savaşçı—“

He got cut off when Alora brought her fingers together in a shushing gesture, an almost crazy look in her eyes.

“Demir. Quarters. Now.” Her voice was low, her free hand still gripped onto the joystick of the machine. Alex rolled his eyes and prepared to deny her again until he felt a sharp pain on the skin of his elbow. He hissed in pain and looked down to see Alora’s black nails pinching him hard.

“Ow! Alora—“

“Just give me the 50 cents, Alex!” She exclaimed, shaking the hand that was still holding onto him. He grunted in pain again and yanked himself away.

“No! You need to stop and come eat your nachos! They’re cold—“ Something green had caught his eye in the machine, the Turkish man’s features dropping as he pressed his face against the glass.

“Is that Luigi?”

Which is how Alora ended up getting the 50 cents and eventually five dollars worth in quarters from Alex, effectively keeping her and now him still at the machines.

Every now and then a few kids would wait behind them for their turn but would soon give up and leave when they realized Alora and Alex were not budging from their spot.

“Savaşçı just grab it! It’s right there!!” Alex’s breath fogs up the glass, his hands leaving smudgy prints as he attempts to put himself even closer to the toy that continues to taunt him with every slip out the claw.

“I’m fucking trying, damn it! This stupid machine is rigged!” The red head barks back, depositing two more quarters into the machine and going to line the claw right on top of Luigi. He was sideways unfortunately, making it harder for her to get a good clasp of him but she wouldn’t give up, not when Luigi was just one more good grab away from falling into the chute.

Alora releases .the joystick to quickly look at the claw from a different angle, wanting to make absolutely sure that it’s prongs would land where she wanted them to. Her steely gaze narrows, looking between Luigi and the claw, reaching around the corner of the machine to make slight adjustments until she deems it was acceptable. Alex removes himself from the glass, giving her a look of determination and a nod of approval.

“You got this. Win me that toy!” Alora nods and rolls her neck in a circle, cracking her fingers and getting into position. She presses the button and the claw starts to descend. The two wait with bated breath, eyes wide and hearts pounding in anticipation as the metal prongs clench around Luigi’s body. Slowly it lifts him up and heads towards the chute and for the briefest moment Alora thinks she finally won something.

Almost there almost there.

Poor Luigi slips out the prongs right before he’s able to fall directly down and gets stuck on the corner of the barrier that keeps the toys from falling in, teetering between dropping in and going back to the plushie dungeon.

There’s a moment of silence and Alex’s eyes immediately shift to Alora, ready to pull her away because he’s all out of quarters, but he can already see the quiet rage brewing in her eyes.

He hears something faintly creaking and he realizes that Alora is still gripping onto the joystick, her knuckles turning an almost sickly white with how tight she was grasping it. He tries to pry her hand away but she lets it go, stepping back a few paces.

She is unusually quiet.

“Let’s go get you some new nachos yeah? Those are better than some stupid… Luigi toy anyway…” Alex tries his best to hide his disappointment and places a hesitant hand on her arm. She surprisingly allows him to maneuver her, her hands clenching into fists as she’s slowly taking a bit further away. He opens his mouth to offer words of comfort but he doesn’t even get to form them because Alora snatches her arm out of his grasp and goes to kick the machine.

The metal clanging rings throughout the arcade and the machine rattles with a very noticeable dent in there now. Luigi rocks slightly but Alora doesn’t notice, too engrossed in her anger.

“This is fucking bullshit!”

She goes to kick it again but Alex yanks her back by the arm, her foot swinging abruptly to the side. She still manages to hit the machine but not as hard.

“Alora!”

“¡Esto es una puta mierda! ¿Estás realmente bromeando? ¡Qué demonios—“ Her sudden switch up to Spanish has Alex sent into a tizzy and it takes him a couple of seconds to gather himself. He doesn’t know what she’s saying, not completely, but it doesn’t take a genius to decipher the curse words and that she’s clearly pissed off.

Before she’s too far, Alora’s foot shoots out once more, hitting the machine and sending Luigi toppling down the chute. Alora and Alex pause as they hear him hit the bottom, the red head scrambling to her knees and pulling the infamous green brother from his metal prison.

She holds the plush in her hands, staring down into his plastic eyes before turning and holding him out to Alex. He takes Luigi cautiously while keeping his eyes on her, too aware of how abruptly she lost all her irritation. She gives a single nod, clearing her throat and clicking her tongue.

“Let’s go eat, I’m starved.”

——

¡Esto es una puta mierda! ¿Estás realmente bromeando? ¡Qué demonios: This is fucking bullshit! Are you actually joking? What the hell!

[whistlingstarlight]

for the villains thing uhhh doc ock (from the sam raimi movies)

Yesss okay I've already talked abt my thoughts on Doc Ock as a whole in another ask so now I get to just ramble about my favourite version <33

Okay so Alfred Molina, as we all know a very talented actor. Manages the friendlier side of Otto and the aggressive side of Ock perfectly. Rosie is a key aspect to this version of Octavius too, namely in how his memories of her after her death act as his moral compass. It's only after the Actuators start to influence him, repressing his memories and reducing his higher brain function that he becomes openly antagonistic. He's a beautifully flawed character right from the off, very much embodying an Icarus with his hubris being his downfall.

But mainly I wanna talk about the Actuators because they are amazing. When it comes to this version of Doc Ock I tend to capitalise Actuators like a name, as they're almost as big a character as he is. The Hospital Scene would deserve a post of its own for how good it is, it's the only scene where we're with just the Actuators whilst Otto's unconscious. I love the scene where they first start talking to him and you can see one of the interior lights change from white to red, signifying the switch from Otto being in control to the Actuators being in control. The practical effects are just phenomenal, and even the CGI holds up fairly well, mostly thanks to only being used when needed and to the Walk Rig they created to help make the scenes look more natural.

There's an excellent documentary called 8 Arms To Hold You that goes into detail far better than I ever could regarding the details in making the Actuators:

Also he is. Incredibly quotable, like the rest of the trilogy. The amount of times I say shit like "I miscalculated", "Being [x] isn't enough, you have to work hard", or anything about tritium (the best plot device in a movie, I love it an unreasonable amount)

[bvannn]

Weekly Update June 7, 2024

I’m in a sour mood right now because I got differed from plasma over paperwork. I’ll try a different chain next week, since the one I’ve been going to is super crowded now anyway. We also got a cat this week, that was the correct answer to the post on Saturday. It’s my mom’s cat, but mom has been out most of this week so I’ve been left alone with her. I’ve been really tired. Like insanely tired. But I still got a good amount of stuff done.

Artfight stuff: I’m planning on revamping the thumbnails and redoing Romeo’s refsheet, plus adding Josh. Luckily at work this week I was put on a job that’s pretty relaxed as far as timing goes, and I have lots of little gaps of time to draw while I wait for the balance to stabilize. As a result I got Romeo and Josh’s refsheets sketched, as well as all the thumbnails planned + several sketched. Tomorrow I’ll try to get some of those rendered.

Comic stuff: Comic is going to be on the back burner this month and next most likely, but I did finish off page 7 and started sketching page 8, which I plan to continue slowly. Every once in a while I’ll get stunlocked with indecisiveness and what I’ve been doing to combat it is 15 sit-ups and then roll a wheel of small tasks and do whatever it says, then repeat until free time is over. So it’s still getting done in those little bursts where I don’t have enough time for something bigger.

Music: another quickie is generally done, but I’m going to hold off on it until I decide to do lyrics for it, because it would probably be perfect for an animation meme if I add some quick generic poppy lyrics. Like I can just channel my rage into a couple stanzas and call it good. I really want to release songs specifically for animation memes because I like newgrounds and respect newgrounds’ copyright policy so I want to make some nice music for animation memes that’s copyright safe for whoever to use with credit. Also still making progress on re-mixing my older tracks, OEB needed a complete redo, some VSTs needed to be swapped out entirely, plug I’m learning a bunch of fancy new tricks, so good chance I’ll post another sample of that once I get it figured out. Unsure if I need to actually redo the vocaloid track or just to redo the effects, but I can figure that out after the instrumentals are done.

Also got a good amount of lyric writing done, RR is 88% done, BATB is still a cool 71%. I’m getting into the groove of doing that at work too, so hopefully those should be done quick, plus the quickie I have on hold. Once I have energy I’ll also finish up that other quickie and the Zelda medley I’ve had in the pipe, hopefully that’ll be this weekend, but good chance it’ll be Monday night.

Other things: OEB is at 32% on storyboards, and like 17% on the Kyo rig. A whole bunch of assets are done but need to be imported/exported, plus I’m taking a couple shortcuts too to make things a bit easier, and I can flesh out the rig more as I use it more. Also, my strategy for the sketchy lines is a success! I may also be able to apply it to other areas and fix the issue of flash being shit for drawing, but that’s a bit ambitious. I’ll try chipping away at having the rest of the clip assets *drawn* by the end of the month so I can import/export them at work next month. But again that’s currently in the ‘if I have a little free time’ bracket of priority.

Miscellaneous: I’m getting a couple TTRPG things done too, little bit of writing, little bit of drawing, again not too high a priority but it’s getting done.

Tonight I’m tired and in a bad mood so I’m going to just chip away at re-mixing OEB tonight and maybe sketch a comic panel or two. Maybe. I have one more regular general drawing I want to get done before the end of the month but I don’t know when that’s coming, this weekend I’ll try to focus on Artfight stuff, with breaks in between to spin the wheel of small tasks I need to accomplish. Lots of housekeeping, hopefully next week is kind to me with plasma so I get more time.