kitkatscabinet - Tumblr blog

kitkatscabinet · 2 days

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kitkatscabinet · 3 days

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Estoy estresada por la entrega de un proyecto de investigación de la universidad

Esta Laena me ayudó a concentrarme en algo más

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kitkatscabinet · 14 days

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So many of my works get abandoned because of this. To all the people that demanded new parts for any of my cod works, none of them are ever gonna happen 🫶

regarding prev reblog about demanding anons

like not even a question mark? you can’t even have the decency of putting a fucking question mark? you’re just gonna word it as a statement?

you don’t deserve an update if you’re entitled like that.

if you ever give an author that energy, i hope they purposefully take even longer to make you mad. i hope it gets abandoned*, just to make you mad.

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kitkatscabinet · 25 days

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This is now officially a Baldur’s gate 3 blog. I don’t care about anything else. Simon Riley ? Never heard of him ❌🙅‍♀️. Wyll Ravengaurd and Gale Dekarios are the only men I know ✨👸.

#baldur's gate 3

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kitkatscabinet · 26 days

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“No one wants to look at art of OCs” I don’t think that’s true at all…I follow people specifically to see their OCs literally all the time. Bring back being curious about people’s OCs, asking questions about them and hyping them up like we did when we were teens

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kitkatscabinet · 26 days

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people are so weird about self insert ocs actually. like why wouldn't you want a made up little guy who's like you except cooler and they get to live all your fantasies? what are you afraid of? having fun? free yourself

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kitkatscabinet · 26 days

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Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 of Gith Tav x Gale!! :)

Ta’av has no issue tryin to get her freak on but is shy with her feelings. Who would’ve thought lmao

(She is a monk Gith btw!!! if anyone was curious)

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kitkatscabinet · 26 days

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My Tav wasn't raised by Tieflings and hasn't really lived as one until the events of the game. As a result she has no concept of tail body language and broadcasts shit she doesn't mean to.

Part 2

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kitkatscabinet · 27 days

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Got some requests for Wyll x Drífa and tbh… i love it. His romantic gestures would fly over her head, but she is impressed by his conquests and skill

Drífa’s son dramatically takes down his ‘Blade of Frontiers’ poster in his room because his hero is trying to date his mom and Wyll is devasted

Realized Wyll is I think the youngest companion? Your son comes home with an older wife + son and he’s also a devil now so…

obviously it took him a lot of convincing and gestures and romancing to get Drífa’s attention because she is unaware and he’s younger. They make it work. I think their kids would be very cute, lil tiefling/human + orc kids, plus wyll’s 7 foot tall step-son that sits on his lap and asks him for advice about girls and also killing monsters

Original meme:

Been busy with work, but going to try to think of some more companion content 💪

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kitkatscabinet · 27 days

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modern au rockstar!mira (tav) & prof!gale?🥹

from this prompt

extras:

i just think theyre neat....,

#please I love them

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kitkatscabinet · 27 days

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great warrior of creche k'liir and the doomed drow dilf she found on the wilderness

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kitkatscabinet · 27 days

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Drífa went from no friends to more than 1, so she is pretty happy

#I want her too

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kitkatscabinet · 27 days

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Pictured: Gale rolling a nat 1 on his insight check

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kitkatscabinet · 1 month

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— also i can’t stress this enough that you don’t have to post that publicly, my intent isn’t to bully them or anything. just to bring awareness since it happened to me with them spam liking my explicit posts <33

(also i’m so sorry that your ask game drabble request has taken so long 😭)

In regards to prev ask it’s absolutely fine lovely 🥰. Thanks for the warning, I haven’t been on tumblr much lately cause of work but it’s heartwarming to know people are looking out for me ❤️

#kat's asks

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kitkatscabinet · 2 months

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I get why people are into Durgetash but honestly? Gortash and Tav? That’s my drug. Inject it straight into my veins.

Tav being essentially a nobody suddenly storming into the city he worked decades on subjugating, scoffing an Elle Woods-like “What, like it’s hard?” on the way into his coronation, and the man takes one look at Tav WHO HE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF BEFORE THE ABSOLUTE BUSINESS (which, in-game is months, if not weeks before the abduction) and goes: I’m gonna change my whole life plan for you. We’ll share power. YOU are my equal, let’s spend our lives together.

The fact that Tav is so intriguing to him makes me go FERAL, honestly

And then Tav, especially on a good play through, dares to get RUINED by a fucking edgelord Banite.

It’s the absolute enemies to lovers trope. There is no comparison, NONE

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kitkatscabinet · 2 months

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the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc

wc: 1.3k

summary: when aemond is betrothed to the elusive heir to highgarden, he finds that no one will tell him anything about her. he sets out to change that

cw: this is sort of a prologue. NOT x reader so dont bother me about it, blind oc, hints of period typical ableism, period typical sexism, aemond is an ass but we'll work at it

read on ao3, divider by saradika

It doesn't surprise Aemond that he would be the one in his family saddled with a political marriage. In his own family, there are no women left for him. With Helaena married to Aegon, and Daemon’s daughters betrothed to his nephews, there is little other option. It only makes sense. However, that does not mean he has to like it. Hatred is born of the illogical.

When he was told he would wed the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden, he tried to say no. His mother would not hear it.

“You have denied three suitors already,” Alicent had said to her second son. “Your options are running out. You will marry the Tyrell girl, and that is the end of it.”

“I will not,” Aemond had grumbled. But his mother had not budged, and the engagement was sealed between himself and the only child of the Lord of Highgarden.

No one had told Aemond much about her, except that she was comely and that he would like her. He refused to go into a marriage with a girl he did not know, and the little he had been told was making him suspicious. Why hide her from him? The amount of times he’s heard comely makes him think she is some sort of beast to look upon.

He knows that in marrying her, he’ll be marrying the future Lady of Highgarden. It would be a position most powerful, as he assumes that a Lady’s husband would bear the brunt of the lordship. It makes perfect sense. Part of him is satisfied with the possibility of an ugly wife for the promise of power, but most of him is still just a man. How can anyone expect him to produce an heir with a twisted and ugly wife? He’d need to be blind in the other eye as well.

Cecily Tyrell arrives on a warm day, when the wind turns right so that the Red Keep smells of the flowers in the gardens rather than the stink of the city. He knows that their families mean for them to be kept apart until the ceremony, but he also knows this castle and its secrets better than most. Being forced out of the Keep and into stinking brothels by Aegon was not completely without merit.

He hears from a passing servant which room Lady Cecily will be staying in until the wedding, and pauses a moment to hear them whisper.

“Overlooking the Godswood,” says the young maidservant. Aemond has half a mind to admonish them for gossiping, before he remembers that it may be their job to know where she’s staying. “I hear it is so she can smell it all.”

Smell it all?

Aemond fails to decipher the meaning before he stops listening and leaves to find the girl. Once in the right hallway, he leans close to the doors as he passes them by. He suspects she will not be alone, undoubtedly accompanied by her ladies or a septa, if she's so young– he has not been told of her age either. Is he to be wed to a child? Or, Gods forbid, a wretched old spinster good only for her family's fortune?

He stops when he hears conversation behind one of the doors, hushed by the wood and carried by soft tones. Women, young ones.

The prince does not waste time in knocking. If there is unseemly behaviour, he will catch it, and if not, he does not care to look polite. He opens the heavy door as fluidly as he can manage, some part of him annoyed that his future wife is without the watch of a kingsguard.

The first woman he sees is facing away from him, sitting on an armchair. He can't see much of her but the long chestnut hair that flows down her back, strands pulled back and braided with budding flowers, and her hand which feels along the intricately carved arm of the chair. The second woman he sees is facing him, and she’s standing up in her shock.

It's clear from the look on her face she recognises Aemond, or at least has connected the dots from the way he may have been described to her. The woman facing away from him stiffens, and slowly reaches out to take the other woman’s hand as she too stands from her seat.

Why does she not face me? He wonders. Does she care not for the intruder in her chamber?

“Who is it?” asks the first woman who he assumes is Cecily, voice soft and melodic.

Aemond steps a few paces closer, a frown pulling down his lips.

“You smell of flame and ash, stranger,” says the first woman. Holding the other’s hand tight, she turns. Aemond catches sight of her other hand, now tracing over the embroidered patterns on her dress.

It is a fair reading of his smell, perhaps he ought to have bathed between the dragonpit and here.

“Cecily,” murmurs the second woman, confirming Aemond’s suspicions. “It is him.”

Cecily has turned, and for a moment Aemond cannot understand why she has been kept from him. As he was so heavily promised, she is comely and delicate as they come, a rose made woman. The moment of ignorance passes, and Aemond sees. He sees that she does not.

Though she faces him, Cecily’s eyes look past him– they do not look at all. His betrothed is blind.

Aemond suddenly feels the victim of a cruel folly.

“Him,” Cecily echoes, hand stilling against her dress. A small smile spreads on her lips, and Aemond thinks that no amount of good looks or pretty smiles can make up for the humiliation he has been afforded in their betrothal. “A stranger smelling of smoke and fire, who makes my companion’s voice quiver. I can draw no conclusion but my betrothed.”

Aemond’s eye flickers to the other lady, who looks petrified by his presence whereas Cecily does not seem particularly moved by it. “You’ll forgive my intrusion,” he says after a moment too long. It is rare he finds himself lost for words.

“I may,” she said, pulling the other woman closer. “Flora, help me.”

The other girl, Flora, carefully takes hold of Cecily’s arm, leading her forward with as much confidence as Aemond supposes she can muster.

“I cannot say I expected to meet you like this, my prince,” Cecily says. As she draws nearer, Aemond can see the greyish film over her irises. If he had not known it the moment she faced him, he would see it in her eyes now. “Without an appropriate chaperone. My dear cousin is responsible and will ensure there is no impropriety between us, though.”

Aemond looks to Flora, another Tyrell if Cecily’s words and the roses on her dress are to be believed. Could it not have been her? She is pretty enough, he cares not that she is a mere cousin to the heir. It would be less of a humiliation than being paired with an invalid simply because his own vision is halved.

Cecily and Flora curtsey to him, and he does not hide his displeasure.

“I had no improper intentions, Lady Cecily,” he says, voice clipped. “I only meant to look upon my betrothed before she approaches me at the altar. Our families mean to keep us apart, and I wished to see why.”

Cecily’s smile is still playing at her lips. It would look smug on anyone else, but she manages only to look coy and gentle. “I can imagine you’ve reached a conclusion?”

“Mmm,” hums Aemond, thankful she cannot see his scowl. If Flora tells her of it later, so be it. “Several.”

“‘Tis not a birth defect,” she says after a moment. “If that is your worry.”

Aemond feels his jaw tense, his eye turning to the ground so he is not forced to look at her eyes any longer. He doesn’t know how to articulate what his worry is. He only knows he hates it, and he is trying his hardest not to hate her. It is not working.

Without another word, Aemond turns and leaves the room, not caring that Flora can see the upset rush in his hurried footsteps.

As he goes, he hears Cecily say to her companion, “He has gone? Did he look upset?”

He does not care to hear Flora’s answer.

#yeahhhhh baby

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kitkatscabinet · 2 months

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plush

pairing: soap mactavish x f!reader wc: 1.5k warnings: 18+/nsfw, slight plushiephilia (?), magical fuckery, instalove vibes, shitty ex notes: an unofficial entry to my own valentines writing challenge, for my beloved aj/@kitkatscabinet <3 its short and a bit shit, but its the thought that counts, right? peep my amazing tumblr style valentines day card here!!

You remember the day you got him vividly, recalling every detail like it was yesterday, and not necessarily for the better.

It was the first Valentine's day you were to have with your now ex-boyfriend, an occasion you'd been looking forward to for months. He wasn't the most romantic man in the world, but he knew how important the day was for you, knew how you dreamed of just having one day where you were spoiled rotten and doted on like a princess.

The day of, the man had forgotten.

All the build up, anticipation, and excitement for nothing. He'd told you the morning off that he was off to work, with no real acknowledgement of the day or the significance it held for you.

You had been entirely crushed, only somewhat soothed when he came home with an oversized, fluffy teddy, just for you.

Despite the gift being mostly an afterthought—the receipt still in the bag told you he'd gone to the store on his lunch break—the bear was just so enchanting, so soft and cuddly that when you had it squeezed in your arms, you couldn't bring yourself to care about much else in the world.

That night, it was your plushie you had curled up with in your arms, your face snuggled into his brown-grey fur. That night, you'd drifted off to sleep, selfishly thinking of what it would be like to fall asleep in the arms of someone who made you feel as safe as your new fluffy friend.

This year, you were determined for things to be different. Despite still reeling from your breakup, you resolved to make the day exactly what you'd always dreamed of,even if you were alone.

So you started the day with a bit of pampering, climbing into sexy lingerie underneath a fresh, oversized shirt and barely-there shorts. You glammed yourself up just a little and spent the day at home surrounded by lit candles, heart-shaped balloons and the scent of freshly-baked cookies.

When the night grew dark, you tucked up into bed to watch more movies until late, spending the entire time snuggled up with your precious plushie. It was normal for you to whisper sweet nothings to the wolf pup before bed, to throw out your usual movie discussion to him, and tonight was no different.

You drift off with ease, feeling a sense of peace you haven't felt in a long time.

When your eyes flutter back open, you expect to see your vision obscured by fur and your room filled with light. You don't expect to see a pair of sparkling blue eyes twinkling in the dark, a pair of blue eyes you're all too familiar with.

"I'm still dreaming." You whisper in complete disbelief, yet the longer you look into the not-so-stranger's eyes, you find yourself not even believing those words. It's not a dream, he's real, and he's here.

Your eyes rove over him and his handsome, masculine features, you take in the warmth that radiates off of him.

"No dreams here, bonnie girl." His smile is wolfish, just like his plushie counterpart—full of mischief and mirth. "Couldnae stand seeing you so sad. It's our day."

His grip on you tightens, pulling you deeper into his chest for you to cuddle close—to feel at home.

"Our day." You mumble, mostly to yourself, as you tangle yourself within him until you become one. You press your forehead against his, eyes fluttering shut as you embrace every euphoric feeling flowing through you.

The safety you felt when hugging him as a plushie is multiplied, as now he grips at your flesh and his breath brushes across your lips.

He chuckles, a sweet sound you'd imagined a million times before. "Dinnae tell me you forgot when we first met." He teases.

Valentine's day, that Valentine's day—when he'd been the only thing that made you smile. It's hard to comprehend that this time last year you were muffling your tears in his plush body, and now you're smiling so unstoppably in his embrace.

"Of course I didn't." You whisper.

You feel his fingers brush over your curves as he eagerly takes you in, too. Unbeknownst to you, he's been aching for this moment since he first set his eyes on you—biding his time trapped inside the plush, until his love was strong enough to break him free of the curse that held him there.

He'd watched in anger as you were mistreated, frustration as he witnessed your ex's attempts to please you between the sheets, and sadness as he watched you mend your broken heart.

Unbridled energy thrums through him, a combination of returning to his human form and the overwhelming feeling of finally getting the woman he's loved from afar all this time. "Been waiting so long to finally have ye in ma arms."

You bring your hand up to stroke at his stubbled cheek, as you try to ground yourself in the reality of the situation. You don't know how, but somehow all your fantasies had come true. "You're real."

"Am real, lass, and am all yours." He swears solemnly. Neither of you know how long you have, but you know that no matter what, his words are the truth. "Can I kiss ye?"

"Please." You whisper, before eagerly closing the gap between you, unable to wait even a moment longer.

The second your lips touch, something in your heart feels like it slots right into place, and a sense of alignment washes over you, unlike anything you've felt before. This kind of peace is something you never felt with your ex, and barely seems real at all.

Your lips continue to melt into his as he kisses you with fervour, equally hungry and sensual, deeply passionate and full of pent-up longing.

You pull away, breathless, head spinning with lust and affection, as well as a lingering sense of confusion. It's obvious that he's actually in your arms, and you're not imagining it, but it's so wonderfully beyond your comprehension.

"But how--" You start, before cutting yourself off. Too many questions, not enough time.

"Conversation for another time." You both say in sync, rushing to return to each other's lips as you pour your love into each other.

His kisses move from your lips to your soft cheeks, the curve of your jaw, the expanse of your neck. He nuzzles against you, nips with his teeth, then soothes them with kisses. You can feel his unrestrained smile against your skin, the eagerness in the way he grips at your hip and ruts into your clothed core with his hardness. "You feel better than I imagined."

As his erection nudges against your clit, a shaky exhale passes your lips, a name uttered purely on instinct after a year of it tumbling around your head. "Johnny..."

Something surges through him then, Johnny, something animalistic, as he rolls you beneath him and cages you between his arms. His hips slot against yours insistently, his eyes battle between darkening with arousal and sparkling in delight. "You know ma name." He almost growls.

"I don't know how, but I do."

His hands claw at your shirt, pushing it up your body to reveal the lace underneath. You hadn't worn it for him intentionally, but it also seems like the fates had called to you to put it on this morning, to be ready for this moment.

He purrs, hungry like a true wolf, as he paws at the delicate material. "Need you, lass, cannae take it anymore."

You push your hips into his, chasing more and more contact, more of the pleasure he so easily gives you. "Me either. Can't wait, please."

For a moment, your mind flickers to your ex, how even on the rare occasions he tried to warm you up, he'd still struggle to make you feel much at all. With just a few kisses, and the feeling of his body against you, Johnny has you gushing, leaking down your thighs and aching with need.

Thick fingers make their way across your delicate skin, leaving shivers in their wake. He pulls back enough to rid you of your panties, before his fingers find your sweet spot and start working on melting you beneath his touch. It was easy for Johnny, having seen the way you'd touched yourself so many times before.

Whilst the sensation feels heavenly, and Johnny's eyes remain focused on yours as he drives you wild. You need more; you need him.

"Please." You whine, unable to summon much more in the way of words as his fingers dip down to tease at your entrance.

Johnny fumbles with his clothes quickly, and sinks into you with an animalistic growl as his thick cock stretches you open in the most divine way.

"Feels like home." He purrs, as he lays his muscular body over you and cages you in between the mattress and his cock. Once more, he nuzzles at your neck, as his cock kisses your insides and you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

You wrap your arms and legs around him instinctually, willing him closer and closer in to you, entwining yourselves completely.

His hips remain still inside you, as the two of you embrace the feeling of finally being where you belong. He kisses you gently as he whispers, "All mine. Never letting ye go now."

#wdym its shit!!! i love it #i love everything you do !!!

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