#and it’s clear he’s like well versed in whatever book this is
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Domesticity ♡ Jonathan Crane (smut)
pairing: Jonathan Crane (Nolan Verse) x Reader
summary: Jonathan really wants to get you pregnant, it takes a little convincing for you to take it seriously.
warnings: somewhat possessive behavior from Crane, talk of pregnancy, smut, female reader, just the usual stuff! also, it's not really a warning, but its a pretty simple fluff-smut fic. It's kind of out of character lol.
a/n: sorry for not posting very often, i've been doing really important stuff and definitely not just rewatching the Sopranos again... anyways, I'll probably start posting again since I'm out of a creative funk and have like a million drafts in my docs right now. thanks!
word count: 1.7k
It was soft and gray outside by the time Jonathan got home. The sky was full of clouds and the house was quiet. He put down his briefcase and untied his shoes as he walked into the quiet apartment he shared with you. He could feel this distinct sense of neediness for you he’s become accustomed to when he has a long day. Something was comforting about you, something he couldn’t place his finger on, but you made him happy. It was what most would consider love, but for him, it was all too new for him to name it.
You were laying on your stomach with your elbows perched on the mattress of your soft bed as you read some book Jonathan had recommended to you. You wouldn’t have noticed Jonathan had returned if he hadn’t dragged your attention from the book laid out in front of you by clearing his throat as he walked into your shared bedroom. You looked up at him with that same doting smile you had whenever you saw him and made your way to him. He glanced over at you as he began to take off his tie but your hands quickly replaced his.
“Wait,” You said as you stood in front of him. “Let me do it.”
“Whatever you want.” He replied as if he was doing you a favor.
Truth be told, he liked your desire to do small things for him. There were little things you did that meant you cared about him, despite how cold and cranky he could be occasionally. He would find his glasses cleaned after going to shower or you would get his favorite suits dry cleaned without him even saying anything about it. All those little acts of domesticity he admired in private. He had his acts of fondness as well, he’d stop and pick you up a small treat on his way home and sometimes if he was feeling especially romantic, he would place a vase and flowers out on the kitchen table for you. There were plenty of silent acts of a proper home life that you both devoted time to.
“How was work?” You asked him once you finished taking off his tie and placed it on the dresser.
“It was fine.” He said before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.
He hated talking about work with you, it was better to keep it vague and short. Anytime you prodded for more detailed responses he would brush it out with a simple, ‘patient confidentiality.’
“I missed you today.” You softly murmured as you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest.
“Likewise.” He said while slowly caressing your hair.
It was easy for him to just think about you during these moments, with your warmth enrapturing him in a spiderweb of affection. He could put off his alter ego for a night of your intimacy and during these nights, he often thought about how easy it would be just to enjoy you and enjoy the life you could have together. Seeing you so sweet on him made him want to keep you like this forever, something more binding than just living together.
“Thought about you all day.” He softly murmured against your neck as he pulled you over top of him on the bed.
“Yeah?” You asked with a teasing smile. “What in particular?” You asked.
“Thought about you just like this,” He replied, pulling you closer till there was practically no room between you, chest to chest. “You look so pretty.” He added.
You loved his praise, even the simplest of words made you get butterflies like how you did when you first met him. Knowing he was known as cold and bitter to most made it all the more special to hear him speak so fondly of you. You kissed the side of his neck and let out a content sigh as his hands slipped underneath your shirt and fondled your breasts for a moment. You let your neck fall back as he began to kiss the side of your neck and worked his way to your jaw. His teeth sunk suddenly into your jaw which caused you to hiss.
“I was thinking about another thing too,” He added as he pulled away for a moment. “I kept on thinking about how much prettier you’d look with my come in you.” He mumbled the last bit and it made you blush deeply.
“Jon,” You said with a small smile, your hand grazing his cheek. “We’re not married yet, you already wanna knock me up?”
“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” He said as he quickly maneuvered your body to be under his. “It’s just an idea.” He replied as he buried his face into your neck and began to kiss it with a certain amount of passion.
“I’m not against it.” You said quietly as your hands ran down his shoulders. “Just… Are you serious? That’s a big step for us.”
“Of course, I’m being serious.” He says as he pulls from your neck and gazes at you. “I gave myself a hard-on today just thinking about what’d it be like to see you pregnant with my kid.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the declaration. You always had figured he wasn’t one to even think about settling down, that just didn’t seem like him at all, but here he was, talking about having a child with you.
“Never thought I would hear you say something so affectionate.” You giggled and kissed his cheek.
“Can’t help myself.” He murmured as he kissed your lips and then pulled back. “Maybe I just want to marry you and get you pregnant. Have you here taking care of our kid and being a good little mother.”
He kissed you harder than before, clearly getting worked up over the thought of you as a mother. You didn’t mind the thought he had. It made you feel desired beyond just sexual attraction, to want to procreate meant something deeper than moving in with each other or having a pair of his shoes next to yours in the closet.
“Do you want me to dress up in a pin-up dress and wear pearls too?” You asked with a giggle, to which he bit your lip for.
“Don’t tease.” He reprimanded.
Based on his growing erection, he probably did want you to wear the dress and kitten heels, maybe not all the time but just to take it off. Jonathan got needier as he felt you through your clothes. He took your shorts off and discarded them carelessly before rubbing you through your panties. You grunted and pushed your hips to his hands.
“You do want it,” Jonathan mused as he felt your soaked panties. “You just wanna be a housewife with your cunt full of my come, hm?”
“Jonathan,” You mewled. “Just wanna make you happy.”
“You are making me happy,” He said with a small grin as he slipped his hands underneath the seam of your panties and pumped two fingers into you quickly. “It would make me a lot happier to see you nice and pregnant though.”
Jonathan loved how he barely had to touch you to get you into a whimpering mess underneath him. Your face always flushed into a pretty shade of red and your hands held onto him tightly whenever he gave you his fingers. Little moans and whines escaped your lips, no matter how hard you tried to conceal them. His hands left you for a moment as he took off his belt and then took off your shirt, making another short moan of neediness escape your lips.
“Can I come in you tonight?” He asked as he touched the bottom of your stomach, already imagining a phantom bump. “You’d make a great mother.”
Frantically you nodded, hands falling to his chest and pulling off his shirt. He worked on his pants and tossed them to the floor. You kissed him swiftly once he was as bare as you were and felt him hold your leg by the back of your knee as he teased you with more small pumps of his fingers.
“Tell me you want it as bad as I do, sweetheart.” He told you in a hushed voice.
“I want it,” You replied in a whisper. “Wanna have your baby.”
He didn’t need much confirmation after that. Hastily he moved your legs over his shoulders, knowing this position would let him get deep inside of you. Jonathan lined himself up and slowly filled your cunt up with his cock. You quickly inhaled and grabbed his shoulders for some support as he rocked into you. You moaned and felt tears in your eyes from the pressure in your cunt. He sneaked his hand to clit and rubbed it quickly, making everything seem a tad overwhelming. With your orgasm building sharply, you closed your eyes tightly as your cunt clenched around him, making both of you shiver. His hand kept circling your clit making feel more than overwhelmed at this point.
“That’s it,” He grunted from over the top of you. “Gonna make you a mommy, make you full.”
You inhaled in response, his hips coming down into you faster and faster. A few curses tumbled from your lips as another orgasm approached. Sweat began to form at your temple and once the separate orgasm came and went, your legs trembled.
“I’m so close,” He warned you in a hoarse voice. “Fuck, just gonna fill you up with my come and make you mine completely.”
You were too overstimulated to really hear what he was saying, everything blurred together at that moment. He gave you a few more unforgiving thrusts and then came inside of you, holding himself still for a moment to keep it all there. You caught your breaths together and kissed you on the forehead.
“Thank you.” He murmured as he lifted off of you and laid down beside you.
You smiled and then gave him a small kiss on the lips and went to the bathroom, feeling a bit shaky but strangely content with this new declaration. After you cleaned up you went and laid back down with him. He seemed miles away again, eyes fixed on the drawn blinds of your window. You couldn’t tell if he was feeling guilt or maybe a tinge of worry after all of that but you just nestled your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane fanfic
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I see the new look, hoping you can maybe gift us a shot based on that y'know 👀 maybe library, fluffy, Remmy shi- (feel free to completely deny this)
Well ofc
Library
You thumbed the pages reading but not reading, your gaze flickering the the messy-haired boy beside you. Headphones in, one hand on his book the other on you thigh. He was unreal in the golden light of the afternoon, his hair brilliantly unruffled.
It was comfortable at first, grounding. Now with every stoke on your thigh, your mind cleared and faded to black. You cleared your throat and flipped the page.
"What you reading love," his voice a husky low from not talking.
"The dead poet's society, it was a muggle book i got back in London," You blab.
"Read it to me," he says coming closer. "I'm interested."
"Oh me Oh life of the faithless of these re-curring," you pause and look over at him, his eyes on you in rapt attention. "Of endless train of the faithless of cities filled with the foolish, what good amid these oh me, oh life?"
"Answer," he says, eyes still on you. "That you are here that life exists; and identity and that the play goes on and on and you may contribute a verse,"
"You know it? Of course you do which book haven't you read?" you ask incredulous as he buries his head in his arms before looking at you sheepishly through his hair.
"May or may not have read it a couple times," he grinned. His scars pulling as he smiles. You're mesmerised by it.
"Sure~," it came out breathily shocking you yourself. You meant to whisper it.
He freezes for a bit, his eyes unfocusing. Then he blinks and he's back to normal.
"What's wrong," Did you do something wrong?
"You-" he stops and tilts his head. "You pretty witch," he says softly.
His statement shocks you and your cheeks heat up.
"You better not be going with Larrot or Larron or Lall- whatever his name is for The Ball the ministry is holding."
"Remus? Are you insinuating something,"
"I'm insinuating a lot of things, one you're gonna dump him." you hum coming closer.
"Two, I'm going to be stepping in to replace your botchy date," you hum again as you lean in.
"Three," he paused.
"Three?" you prompted. You had just noticed how closed you'd gotten. Both your breathes coming in shallow currents.
"Three, I kiss you like i love you, which i do, then and now only if you let me," his hand coming up to caress you cheek. "Only ever if you let me,"
"I'll always let you, Moons," you say. He grins his mesmerising grin and dips in to kiss you, so softly you feel yourself float. It's comforting how his hands wrap around you and bring you in. Settling on his lap.
"Well, Well, Moony finally grew up," you break up to find Sirius and James standing over by the bookshelves. Sirius clicked the polaroid you hadn't noticed him holding. Remus' tugged on your skirt fluently as he picked you up, like you weighed nothing. (Werewolf strength you bet)
"Gonna keep this for the grand-kids," you burrow your face in Remus' neck as he tells of his friends. Your lips tingling, reminding you of what just happened.
I just kissed Remus John Lupin and i liked it and he likes meee
Blushing kicking screaming sprinting foaming at the mouth hyperventilating just Remus~ bro fr ayusDgHiunhaHNHbujgbBNUINubymhlksnlwkKgq
#remus john lupin#remus lupin#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remuslupin#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x oc#remus lupin x fem!reader#Remus lupin x f!reader
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Would you be interested in sharing some of your fav books/scholars/academics/papers on The Iliad?
Hello! And thank you for this ask!! Basically, my research on Homer focuses a lot on Achilles and his relationship with Patroclus; I sometimes read works that are about the Iliad in general, but most of it is with Patroclus and Achilles in mind. But I do often come across interesting works on the Iliad as a whole, so I'll list some of them here. I have a lot of stuff to share, I'll keep it as brief as I can because I don't want to overwhelm anyone lol.
Books
As far as books go, I have several different translations of the Iliad, and most of the time each translation has its own introduction, sometimes by another classicist. Those are a great place to start. My favourites are Caroline Alexander's Iliad translation, and the introduction she wrote herself. I like Caroline Alexander's work in general, including her book on the Iliad The War That Killed Achilles (which my pal Baejax sent me bc I couldn't find it anywhere here <3 <3), because her writing is clear, straightforward and informative. Her translation is my go to translation at the moment because I like how faithful it is to the original Greek, it's the one I keep next to my bedside and which is full of bookmarks and notes LOL.
Another favourite is Robert Fagles' translation, with an introduction by Bernard Knox (who also wrote an excellent introduction to Robert Fagles' translation of the Aeneid). Even though Robert Fagles' translation isn't as close to the original as others, I love it because it is just so beautiful. It is definitely the one with the most staying power if you ask me, some passages are just chef's kiss. Bernard Knox's intro is also super informative (although he doesn't really go into Patroclus' and Achilles' relationship), and when he supplements his analysis with Fagles' gorgeous text it's just a wonderful experience.
Another translation that I recommend to anyone who can read modern Greek is the one by N. Kazantzakis & G. Kakridis, I think it's THE iconic Greek translation if you ask me. It has a lot of idiomatic language and expressions and it might not be as easy to get into as other Greek translations are, but it's truly beautiful and lyrical and it is entirely written in 17-syllable lines in iambic metre, adapting Homer's dactylic hexameter to modern Greek. Verse translations aren't really a thing for most English translations, which is a shame if you ask me. I think it's pretty much the only translation I've read so far that really invites you to read it out loud, as the original work was intended.
I do have Emily Wilson's translation as well but I haven't read it yet (I KNOW, SHAME ON ME), I really want to give it my full attention and I just haven't had the time yet. But I've read bits of the introduction and also parts of the translation and so far I love them. I hope to be back with a more informed opinion once I've actually read it LOL
Scholars
I have to admit that I don't follow any specific scholar religiously. I tend to read whatever catches my interest. That being said, I do love Emily Wilson's work and I've read several of her articles and papers, I think they're really informative and well-written. When she was doing the promotion for her Iliad translation on Twitter I read a lot of the stuff she posted and they were all great. My favourite was her interview with Madeline Miller which you can read here. I also liked this review of her Iliad translation that I read recently, written by Stephanie Mc Carter. Basically, I follow her on Twitter and read the articles she posts, and some are very interesting. I also went to see her in person when she gave a lecture in Athens in October, it was really good but unfortunately it isn't online anymore so I can't link it :(
I also really like watching Madeline Miller interviews on Youtube, I think I've watched every single one that's out there and even though some of them are brief or repetitive because interviewers usually ask her the same questions, I do think she always has something interesting to says both related to her books/writing but also the Iliad and the Odyssey that have inspired her. There are two interviews in particular that I like, this one which is more about TSOA and the Iliad, and this one which is more about Circe and the Odyssey. I genuinely enjoy listening to her a lot, I find it very calming.
My friend @darlingpoppet recently introduced me to the work of Celsiana Warwick, and I've really enjoyed reading her stuff!! Particularly this one which is about conjugal bonds and the homoerotic subtext of the Iliad, and this one which is about gender and kleos in the Iliad. Good stuff, and I look forward to reading more!
Papers
There are a few papers about Achilles and Patroclus that I really like and that I go back to from time to time. I have far too many in my jstor account and can't go through all of them right now, but these spring to mind:
Achilles and Patroclus in Love by W.M. Clarke, it's a very informative analysis of the homoerotic subtext of the Iliad and tries to "prove" in a way that Achilles and Patroclus are in a romantic/erotic relationship. Super interesting!
The Relationship between Achilles and Patroclus according to Chariton of Aphrodisias and Was the Relationship between Achilles and Patroclus Homoerotic? The View of Apollonius Rhodius by Gabriel Laguna-Mariscal and Manuel Sanz-Morales are two very interesting analyses of Achilles and Patroclus' relationship in relation to other ancient works, they're not too long and I found them very fun to read.
Euphorbus and the Death of Achilles by Roberto Nickel is super interesting and has some really cool takes on the deaths of Hector, Achilles and Patroclus and how they are all related.
Some more stuff
Some more videos I've watched and find rather interesting are The Contemporary Relevance of the Iliad by Erwin Cook, Why Homer Matters which is a talk between Adam Nicholson and Paul Cartledge (whose work and lectures on ancient greek history are always super informative!! I love watching his stuff even if they're not directly Iliad-related) I don't vibe with everything that's said in this video honestly nor do I agree with a lot of Nicholson's takes but they did make some interesting points about Homer's relevance and the emphasis on honour/glory in a world without justice and in a war without good leadership, so it might be worth a watch. Lastly, another series of video lectures that I really like is Homer's The Iliad and The Odyssey, it's five lectures in total and a great introduction to the Homeric works which also goes into the historical context a little bit, very informative even for someone who is well versed in Homer.
I hope this helped! I can't think of any more off the top of my head now, and I really should get ready to leave for work lmao, but if I do think of anything else, I'll add it here :D Also, if you're reading this and have something to add feel free to do so!
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I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part One
This is really for the benefit of my mother and sister, who are both diehard Lord of the Rings fans, but who don’t want to read The Silmarillion. My mother remembers picking it up with the expectation that it was another LotR book, and being disappointed that it read more like a history textbook than an actual novel. That’s because it’s not a novel, it’s a mythological epic along the same lines as the Homeric epics or the Epic of Gilgamesh, that tells the history of the first age of Tolkien’s world. It occurred to me that I am exactly the type of person Tolkien wrote The Silmarillion for — a person who knows folklore well enough to appreciate what he was trying to do, and recognize the conventions that he uses. I’m a person who went and applied to Yale’s graduate program in medieval studies (and got in!) just so that I could use the historical, cultural, and literary background of the Middle Ages to inform my own fiction. So, forgive me for saying it, but who’s better equipped to appreciate The Silmarillion than me? And it’s not as long as I thought, with only about 400 pages, which feels really doable after having read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. So, I’m going to paraphrase the whole of The Silmarillion, for all those who want all the juicy Tolkien lore but don’t want to read it themselves.
Before I get into it, here’s a bit of background, for those less versed in Tolkien lore: The Silmarillion is Tolkien’s magnum opus, which he spent his entire life working on and never properly finished. It could be called a “prequel” to The Lord of the Rings, but that would be misleading. It’s intended to be an original mythology for England, from before recorded history. The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are both small episodes from this enormous mythological cycle, and neither is really all that significant in the overall story of Tolkien’s world (which is probably why they actually got finished, and published). The Silmarillion and The Hobbit were originally meant to be completely separate projects, which is why they differ so much stylistically, but Tolkien eventually decided to combine them into the same world. The Lord of the Rings fully integrates the world of The Hobbit and that of The Silmarillion, with copious callbacks to both. (The reason Tolkien wrote it at all is because his publisher wanted a Hobbit sequel and not whatever weird thing The Silmarillion was.) The Silmarillion was not actually published until after Tolkien’s death (because he was never ready to officially declare it finished), and it was edited together by his son Christopher.
Christopher had to do a lot of reworking in order to make the narratives more fluid and consistent with everything Tolkien had written about the world. In that way, The Silmarllion kind of does resemble the ancient epics that it emulates — it’s cobbled together out of its existing material, with many pieces missing or compensated for. Christopher writes,
It became clear to me that to attempt to present, within the covers of a single book, the diversity of the materials — to show The Silmarillion as in truth a continuing and evolving creation extending over more than half a century — would in fact lead only to the confusion and the submerging of what is essential.
Like any mythology, The Silmarillion is fundamentally organic, so what Christopher did is the equivalent of taking a bunch of Ancient Greek primary sources and cobbling them together into something like Ovid’s Metamorphoses: A coherent narrative that arranges all the basic stories from the mythology in chronological order, making it much more comprehensible, but also stripping away all of its inconsistency and nuance. That actually makes it more authentic. The fact that one person was able to produce anything close to the complexity of an entire oral tradition is extraordinary.
I’m not going in blind. I have a general idea of what The Silmarillion is about, and I’m familiar with general Tolkien lore through osmosis (mostly thanks to Quora). I’m interested to see if my initial impressions hold up, how much of what I know about wider Tolkien lore actually comes from this book. I know the Fall of Numenor’s in it. Is Beren and Luthien’s whole romance in it, or is that only in the Unfinished Tales? What about Elendil and the formation of the half-elven line that would eventually end with Aragorn? What about Annatar? I guess I’ll find out.
Ainulindalë: The Music of the Ainur
In which Melkor learns that it’s really disrespectful to deliberately sing the wrong thing during a choral concert.
In the beginning there was God, whom Tolkien calls Eru or Ilúvatar. Ilúvatar creates beings called the Ainur, which are sort of like gods and sort of like angels, and tells them to sing for him. Initially, each Ainu only comprehends the part of Ilúvatar that it represents, but eventually they start to understand each other, and gradually they start to understand Ilúvatar’s big vision of the universe. They start to harmonize, and their singing creates the world. I’m only a few paragraphs in, and it’s already so beautiful I could cry.
The Music of the Ainur by Jef Murray
The first thing I’m reminded of is the Platonic (and Kabbalistic) idea of emanation — God creates higher beings that are manifestations of his thoughts, and then the higher beings create the physical world, which is a manifestation of their thoughts. Magic in general follows this same pattern of manifesting one’s ideas in physical reality. There’s so much more I could say about that, but this is meant to be a summary and not a theological dissertation. I’m betting it’s not a coincidence, though.
The Ainur are made of Ilúvatar’s ideas, and all of them express Ilúvatar’s ideas through their singing. But — oh no! — one of the Ainur comes up with some ideas of his own, and decides to sing about his own ideas in order to glorify himself. If you hadn’t guessed already, Melkor is this universe’s Satan. Just like Lucifer, Melkor is one of the most powerful and glorious of the Ainur, and he’s a Special-Chosen-One-Magical-Girl because he has a little bit of each of the other Ainur’s powers (i.e. he shares in all of their divine domains). Melkor introduces some discordant notes into his singing, which introduces imperfection to the universe.
Ainulindalë by Paontaur
Most of the Ainur who are in Melkor’s choral section are like, “who the hell is singing off-key?” But some of them like his melody better than Ilúvatar’s, and start singing along with him. This makes matters worse. Ilúvatar simply smiles and starts conducting a new song that’s similar to the first one, but a little different, to accommodate the discordant notes. Melkor and his choir start singing louder in response, and the entire universe becomes the equivalent of a gorgeous violin concerto and a heavy metal riff playing at the same time, each at full volume. To get an idea of what this might sound like, I listened to “The Cloud Atlas Sextet” and the guitar solo from “Seven Nation Army” at the same time, and… it kinda worked, in a weird way, but it definitely sounded like the two songs were competing with each other. Not easy to endure for long, so, a good portion of the Ainur stop singing.
Ilúvatar lifts his other hand, and another song starts up, interweaving with the first. One is slow and sorrowful, the other is loud and abrasive, and together they drown out Melkor’s evil guitar riff. Raising both hands, Ilúvatar ends the music in a single chord that is deeper than the abyss and higher than the sky.
Eru Ilúvatar by Elveo
Ilúvatar addresses the Ainur, telling them that they will now see the things that were created with their music. To Melkor, he says, “If you try to change my music, you’ll find that you’ve actually made my music even better in ways that you can’t even conceive of. Everything you do is going to serve me anyway, so go ahead and try!” So, we get an answer to the Problem of Evil right off the bat. Discord is allowed to exist because, in a roundabout way, it improves the things around it. Every story needs a villain to be interesting, and Melkor is the villain of the story that Ilúvatar is telling.
Melkor feels ashamed, and then resentful. Ilúvatar gives the Ainur the ability to see (when before they were only able to hear), and shows them a vision of the world they made with their singing: Arda. Each recognizes the part of Arda that it personally sang into existence. They see some of the past, present, and future, and they also see things that they hadn’t conceived of. One of these things is a vision of the “Children of Ilúvatar,” the races of Elves and Men. Ilúvatar brought them into existence with the third song (the bombastic-sounding one), and the Ainur didn’t have any part in creating them. Most of the Ainur immediately love the people, and understand more of the mind of Ilúvatar through watching them.
Melkor and his followers, most of which are the most mighty of the Ainur, focus all their attention on Arda (as opposed to anything else in the universe). Melkor convinces himself that his goal is to help the Children of Ilúvatar in by putting the world in order, but yeah… sure, buddy. His real goal is to subdue all the Children of Ilúvatar to his own will instead of that of Ilúvatar.
The rest of the Ainur are very impressed by Arda, and especially by the sea, which contains the distant echo of the Music (which is why all the Children of Ilúvatar feel called by it). The Ainur that sang the water into being is called Ulmo (no, not Elmo), and of all the Ainur, Ilúvatar taught him the most about music. Each of the other Ainur was given a different concept to comprehend and sing into existence. The air and wind was created by Manwë, who is the noblest of the Ainu. The earth was created by Aulë, who’s almost as skilled as Melkor, but his sense of pride is in making beautiful things, instead of in himself.
Ilúvatar shows Ulmo that, although Melkor tried his best to destroy the idea of Water through his singing, all he did was make it even cooler in the manifest world. Melkor created Cold to freeze the water, but all that did was create beautiful snowflakes and whirls of frost, which Ulmo never even conceived of. Melkor created Heat to evaporate the water, but all that did was create the beautiful clouds and the music of rain falling. The clouds have the double benefit of bringing Ulmo closer to his friend Manwë (it probably says something about me that I read “thy friend, whom thou lovest” and immediately thought, SHIIIP!).
So, therefore, everything Melkor does to screw up Ilúvatar’s creation ends up improving it in the long run, and that’s why Ilúvatar allows Melkor to exist.
Arda does not actually exist yet, it only exists as an idea that has been described in the singing. So, Ilúvatar formally begins the manifestation of Arda with an epic Let There Be Light moment: “Eä! Let these things Be!” A light appears, and the light is the whole of the universe.
Many of the Ainur choose to remain with Ilúvatar, but a certain number of them descended into the manifest universe, Eä. Making this choice requires them to give up a significant amount of their power and ability for as long as Eä exists. That’s what being alive and in the manifest world does — it shoves you down into a smaller version of yourself and limits the things that you can do. (The Wizards experience this same thing, but on an even smaller scale.) The Ainur that decided to go to Eä are called the Valar, and they function mostly like gods and goddesses.
The Valar are disappointed to discover that the world doesn’t actually exist yet. The singing just conceived of it as an idea, and Ilúvatar kickstarted its manifestation, but now the Valar have to actually build it. So, they begin to painstakingly shape the primordial matter of Eä into Arda, the world as we know it. Manwë, Ulmo, and Aulë do most of the work, but Melkor is there too. Melkor is that guy who doesn’t actually help with the group project, but then takes credit for the whole thing once it’s done. While the other three are building the world, he offers unhelpful suggestions and changes things to make it suit his own vision. When Arda is young and covered in fire, Melkor figuratively plants a little flag on it and names it Melkor-land. Manwë, who was the lead singer of the second melody that Ilúvatar created in response to Melkor, is really pissed off and brings a host of other spirits down to Arda to kick Melkor out. No one gets to claim credit for a group project that everyone else worked on! Melkor goes off into a corner to sulk, and leaves Arda alone… for the time being.
The rest of the Valar give themselves physical forms. Because they’re all excited for the arrival of the Children of Ilúvatar, they base their appearances on the Elves and Men. Their humanlike forms, gender, and so forth are about as inconsequential to them as our clothing is to us, and they don’t always bother to “wear” their humanoid forms. Melkor sees them walking around on Arda in these beautiful forms that emulate the people and the elements of the world itself, and is even more resentful than ever. So, he gives himself his own physical form, and because he’s motivated by spite, his form is dark and scary instead of bright and beautiful. He appears as something like an ice-capped volcano, all fire and ice, striding through the sea.
What follows is the first war between the Valar and Melkor. The Elves don’t know very much about this, so, little of it is recorded. What we know is that Melkor went around and petulantly undid whatever the Valar were trying to do, like your annoying sibling who keeps knocking down your tower of blocks every time you finish building it. Whatever the Valar tried to make, Melkor would destroy. If the Valar made a valley, Melkor inverted it into a mountain range. If they carved out an ocean, Melkor “spilled” it. Everything in the world is therefore corrupted or somehow altered by Melkor, instead of matching the Valar’s original idea for it, but in the end the group project is finished and it comes close enough.
Music of Ainur by breath-art
Valaquenta: Account of the Valar and Maiar according to the lore of the Eldar
In which we’re introduced to the T̶w̶e̶l̶v̶e̶ ̶O̶l̶y̶m̶p̶i̶a̶n̶s̶ Kings and Queens of the Valar, and the Maiar.
This is what every fantasy writer wishes they could do — just exposit on the lore of their gods! I wish I could explain all about my fictional gods and how cool they are at the start of my novels, but I’m not Tolkien. Maybe someday I’ll be famous enough that someone will buy a book like this one that consists of nothing but lore.
Now, imagine that you’re opening the D’Aulaires’ Book of Elven Myths, and reading about the great elven gods (or more specifically, the gods as the Elves know them).
Valar by @phobso
As I usually do with pantheons of gods, allow me to introduce you to the pantheon of Arda! These are the Kings and Queens of the Valar, and there are seven of each:·
Manwë: The god of the sky and wind. He’s the High King of the Gods, just like Zeus. He has the epithet Súlimo, “breather.” Manwë sort of replaced Melkor as the Ainur who best understands Ilúvatar (making him roughly equivalent to the Archangel Michael, if Melkor is Satan).
Varda: The goddess of stars and light, Manwe’s wife. She lives with him in a tower on top of the tallest mountain (Taniquetil), and Being with each other improves their perception, so that they can see and hear everything. Varda hated Melkor before everyone else hated Melkor, and thought he was an asshole even before the Music was sung. The Elves call her Elbereth, and she’s their most important goddess.
Ulmo: The god of water, all water. He spends most of his time in the depths of the ocean, so he doesn’t see the rest of the Valar much and doesn’t bother to take on a human form most of the time. When he does, it is terrifying to see his gigantic form rise out of the waves and hear his voice, which is as deep as the ocean. Despite having disengaged from the other gods, he still loves the Elves and Men. He keeps tabs on them through all the freshwater rivers, lakes, springs, and fountains. Sometimes he wanders on shore in disguise and plays horns made of white shells, which fill whoever hears them with a longing for the sea (like Legolas).
Aulë: The god of rock and metal, precious stones, mountains, smithing, craftsmanship, and terrain. Aulë is the most similar to Melkor in temperament, because both wanted to make things of their own and have others praise them for it. It was mostly Aulë’s job to fix whatever Melkor broke during the creation of Arda, so he hates Melkor as much as anyone else. Melkor, meanwhile, lost his ability to create anything of his own — he can only corrupt or destroy things that others have made, so he especially envies Aulë.
Yavanna: The goddess of nature and agriculture, Aulë’s wife. She usually appears as a woman in a green dress, but sometimes she appears as a Tree of Life who connects the groundwater with the sky. She has the epithet Kementári, “queen of the earth.”
The Fëanturi: The masters of spirits, two brothers who rule over Death and Sleep. They’re called Mandos and Lorién, but these aren’t their actual names—they’re the names of the places they live. Their actual names are Námo and Irmo. (I’m not really sure why they were introduced to us by the names of their domains, but linguistics is weird, and Tolkien fully replicated its weirdness.)
Namó/Mandos: The god of the dead, who lives in the Halls of Mandos, in the far west of Valinor He forgets nothing, knows everything, and knows the fates of everyone. It’s his job to pass judgement upon the beings that live in Arda after they die (or… whatever the elves have instead of death? A sort of purgatory), and he works under Manwë’s authority.
Irmo/Lórien: is the god of dreams, who lives in the gardens of Lórien (now you know where the name “Lothlórien” comes from). The Valar often take breaks in the heavenly world of Lórien whenever Arda becomes too much from them.
Vairë: “The Weaver,” the goddess of history, who records all of time in her webs. She’s Namó’s wife, and lives in Mandos with him.
Estë: The goddess of sleep and healing. Like her husband, she is gentle, refreshing, and not at all like Morpheus.
Nienna: The goddess of sorrow and grief. She mourns incessantly for everything Melkor has ever done, and everything that was hurt or lost as a result. On the slightly brighter side, she’s also the goddess of compassion and hope. She lives even further west than Mandos, and the spirits trapped in Mandos supplicate her for her wisdom. She is Namó and Irmo’s sister.
Tulkas: The god of strength and heroism, who came to Arda specifically to help the other Valar fight Melkor. His epithet is Astaldo, “the valiant.” He has long golden hair and a golden beard, doesn’t need a horse because he can outrun everything, and mostly just punches stuff.
Nessa: The goddess of speed, Tulkas’ wife. She likes running and dancing, and deer follow her everywhere she goes.
Oromë: The god of the hunt and Nessa’s brother. He prefers to stalk around Middle-earth, hunting Melkor’s minions, rather than to live in Valinor with the other Valar. His horse’s name is Nahar. He has the epithet Aldaron or Tauron, “Lord of Forests.” He has a magic hunter’s horn that sounds like the sun rising or like lightning.
Vána: The goddess of youth and flowers, Yavanna’s younger sister and Oromë’s wife.
The influence from the Olympians is obvious, but this little section hints at a lot more depth and complexity in each of these beings (well, the male ones, and about half of the female ones). I’m really interested to see how they develop from here.
In addition to the Valar, there are spirits called the Maiar, which are “of the same order as the Valar but of less degree.” I suppose that means that they’re also Ainur? It’s hard to tell, but regardless, they’re the direct underlings of the Valar and they act as intermediaries, so, we could call them lower-ranking angels. There isn’t any specified number of Maiar, and most of them don’t have names. A handful of them do:
Ilmarë: Varda’s lady-in-waiting.
Eonwë: The herald of Manwë.
Ossë: One of Ulmo’s underlings, the spirit of stormy and choppy seas, who lives near the coasts of the ocean.
Uinen: Ossë’s wife, the spirit of calm seas, who protects marine life. Sailors pray to her to calm the waves, and her hair spreads throughout all the waters. Numenoreans in particular worshipped her. Ossë very nearly joined Melkor, but Uinen prevented this.
Melian: A handmaiden of both Vána and Estë, who lives in Lórien and tends the trees there. She’ll be important in Quenta Silmarillion.
Olorin: Another Maia who lives in Lórien, but he spent a lot of time with Nienna, who taught him compassion and patience. This made him the wisest of the Maiar. He’s not important to this story, but he is important to another story that you already know…
Then of course, there’s Melkor. His name means “who arises in might,” but because he’s evil, he doesn’t deserve to have this name. Instead, the Elves called him Morgoth, which sounds a lot scarier. Because he has some of the powers of all the other Ainur, he can affect all of their creations, but because he’s evil, he can’t do anything with them other than distort and corrupt them. Because he’s arrogant, spiteful, and fixated on ruling the world, this is all he ever does.
Melkor also has Maiar servants among his followers, whom he turned evil; they became fiery demons that the elves call “Valaraukar,” but that we know better as Balrogs. Most of Morgoth’s Maiar don’t have names either, but one of them does. His name is Mairon, which means “admirable,” “excellent,” or “precious.” He was originally one of Aulë’s Maiar, but left his service to join Morgoth, becoming only slightly less evil than Morgoth himself. The Elves decided that he also didn’t deserve his name, and called him Gorthaur the Cruel, or else a name that means (roughly) “abhorred” or “vile” — Sauron.
More to come!
#the silmarillion#silmarillion#tolkien#jrr tolkien#the lord of the rings#lotr#eru iluvatar#melkor#music of the ainur#ainulindale#valaquenta#valar#summary#silm#the silm#silm art#silm fanart
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west coast - miles morales x reader
a/n: hey guys, this past two weeks have been quite awful. writer's block and imposter syndrome are hitting hard. it feels like motivation is slowly dripping out of me through my breath i hope this story makes your day slightly better and i love you all <333
Nauseousness. It’s a feeling everyone experienced at a point in their lives. It’s a feeling that lingers within you. Once you feel it, it’s hard to discard. That froggy feeling that stays in your throat, one that churns your stomach and leaves you overwhelmed.
You remember tossing and turning in your bed, trying to suffocate yourself so you couldn’t feel anything else but the touch of your own skin and your blanket. Always changing your pajamas, going to the bathroom and spraying heaps of lavender mist anywhere you were planning to slam your head into.
Nauseousness turned into frustration, cursing your own mind for refusing to infuriate itself to sleep. Everyone else in your family was asleep, so why weren’t you? You felt confined, trapped in a prison to where you can’t call for help; to be tormented by the sound of your own mind for eternity. Your room resembled one too. Magazines and clothes were strewn across the ground, your guitar propped against your bed. Its metal pegs glistened in the moonlight, along with the new callouses adorning your palms.
Your instinct inched you to get up from your bed and reach your phone, the blue light stinging your eyes. The lockscreen with you and Miles hanging on a park bench behind one of the numerous buildings while he stared at you with lovesick eyes. The time flashed out, one twenty-six, as you groaned in annoyance. You approached your dresser, staring at the person in the mirror gazing back at you. Your hair was a mess, your eyebags grew darker with every passing day, and your pajamas were slumping down your figure.
Fuck it.
In one fluid motion, you flung open your drawers, picking whatever clothes grazed your hand and draping them on your body. Then, you hauled your bag over your shoulder and jumped through your window, landing harshly on the metal floor. Paying no mind, you continued rushing up the stairs, feet tapping on stair after stair. Sounds of heavy traffic and buzzing electric lights flooded your ears, even through your headphones.
You reached the rooftop. There was barely anyone up there, except for some loose garbage and poorly-discarded receipts. Pressing the tiny button on your headphones, they played a small startup sound before playing a sweet melody in your ears. It was the song you were working on previously on your guitar, and now seemed like a perfect time to brainstorm lyrics.
“Ain’t he a doll?
Well, he’s stuck with me,
My heart echos his beat,
He’s a… what rhymes well with a doll?” you muttered, scribbling down on your notebook while scrolling through your photos. It’s been a tried-and-true method that you’ve been using ever since you started songwriting. You kept scrolling, spotting photos of Miles, Gwen, Pavitr and even one you captured with Hobie and his partner. They were both sporting spiked bracelets while reading a comic book they’ve found lying around. They’d been a mentor for you, both logically and personally.
“Oh Cass, where are you? Could really use your genius here…” you uttered. “Wait- no, I've got a better line:
My heart echos his beat,
A tune I will always repeat,
Yep that’s good.”
As you closed your notebook proudly, you attempted to start the next verse, emphasis on attempt. Every tear, every scribble only drove you farther into frustration. This was supposed to be your outlet, so why was it being so annoying?
“You write songs, why is it hard for me to do the same?
A crash cut your thought track, flying right past you and into the fire escape door. The scent of smoke filled your nose as the actual physical smoke cleared. A figure lay against the door, one dressed in a black full-bodysuit with thin stripes. The mask, which had wide eyes, was slightly tattered, showing small glimpses of its skin.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?” the voice groaned. His eyes blinked periodically as you approached closer. When he finally caught the sight of your face, the eyes on his mask grew wide as he darted to the right.
“Hey, wait- Spiderman?! Are you okay?”
He spun around, one foot stuck to the ground, and faced you, pounding on his chest before speaking again. His voice was low, comically low. “Ah yes, hello fellow citizen who I know nothing about. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing- what are you doing here? You just came out of nowhere!”
“I can assure you, I am completely fine,” he said. He only took one step, before stumbling on his leg, kneeling onto the ground with a huff.
“How about you just take a seat over here, okay?” you suggested, gesturing over to the ledge. He reluctantly followed, sitting on the ledge as his legs dangled off it. You sat down next to him, tucking your notebook behind your back. There wasn’t any chance you were going to show Spiderman your amateurish songwriting.
“So…how’s your day going?”
“Uh..quite okay! Y’know, the usual patrols. It’s hard being Manhattan’s number one hero.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I imagine, if you’re crashing into things like that on the regular. Not that you’re bad at it!”
“Well, I don’t do that all the time…”
“Just now?”
He sheepishly faces away from you. “...Occasionally.”
“Christ, y’know you remind me of my boyfriend. Everytime I see him in the hallways at my school, which by the way has awful hallway management, he always either trips on his feet or on, get this, air. Air!”
“...Does he always do this?”
“Yes! It’s adorable though, and I don’t tell him that I think it is. It’s like a little game we have.”
“I won’t, because I do not know who this boyfriend is. …Who is he?”
“His name is Miles, and he’s…he’s something.”
Silence echoed between you two before an idea sprouted in your head.
“Hey, can you help me with something?”
“Uh, sure… What is it?”
“I’m trying to write a song for him; it’s supposed to be a piece for him about how I feel, but I’m unsure about the lyrics. He makes me feel so extraordinary and it’s hard to express exactly how much I care about him.”
“...maybe just tell him.”
You arched your eyebrow towards him. “What?”
“Uh, what? Nothing, I said nothing!” he said, reverting back to his comical voice. You giggled in response, opening your notebook. Then, you started humming.
Always thought of the love that was on TV,
Never thinking that could happen to me,
Tuesday nights shift Friday blues
Vision restored in your sights
His smile shines brighter
Than I could imagine
I hear the high-fives,
Beckoning me away
Oh, ain't he a doll?
Days turn to weeks,
and the thought of you makes me scream,
You always say winnin me
was like winning the lottery
Yeah,
Ain’t he a doll?
Well, he’s stuck with me,
My heart echos his beat,
A tune I will repeat,
Miles couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was his hearing even working? He didn’t feel the world stop around him, only himself. His heart practically thrashed against his ribcage, minute tears pooling in his eyes. He was in utter awe, that's the only way he could explain it. Any remarks or witty quips died on his tongue.
When you stopped, you felt a familiar nauseousness flood you. It wasn’t the nauseousness that curdled your stomach until it felt like hurling or the nauseousness that fogs your brain and lets the words melt onto your tongue. This, this was the nauseousness that feels weightless, hovering in the vast emptiness in your midsection while your thoughts run a mile a dozen.
You placed your notebook down, rubbing the tips of your fingers together. “So…what do you think?”
“It…It’s really good. Y’know, you should play that for your boyfriend.”
“You think he’d enjoy it? He’s much more artistic than me.”
“Of course I - I mean- he would, it’s amazing! I think it could be an actual song!”
“You think so?”
He placed his hand on your shoulder. “Yes, I know so.”
“…you couldn’t tell that was Miles?”
“At the time, …no?”
Hobie cackled, slapping his hand on his knee. It’d been two weeks since that incident, and since then, you haven’t been able to live that moment down. When you told Cass about your experience shortly after, they called you an idiot for not ‘catching the signs’. Looking back, you should’ve caught the signs earlier but, in the moment, you were as blind as a bat. The concert music echoed from the stage as the rockstar graced her fingers on the guitar. You watched in awe from the sidelines as sweat glistened down her forehead, flicking across the stage with a wide grin. The crowd cheered as she swung her arm down, shredding the last chord.
Hobie’s eyes softened, his jaw slightly agape. “Aw shit, looks like I'm next.”
Cass waved across the crowd before hopping backstage, ruffling your hair with a beaming smile. Her presence was enough to send a wave of confidence through the room, one that you would climb mountains to obtain, as many others would. “What’d you think of that?”
“It was cool.”
“I think you mean exceptional. You alright, love? Ignore the kid…”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” Cass said, shaking her sleeveless jacket. Hobie picked up his guitar, resting his foot on the step.
“I’m on next, wish me luck, alright?”
She gave a quick peck on his lips, his hand trailing to her neck, pushing her deeper.
You groaned. “Ew..”
Cass giggled, parting away from him and patted him on the shoulder.
“Alright, go on. Destroy them out there.”
Hobie tilted down his imaginary cap and gave you a small cheeky point. He ascended onto the stage as Cass sauntered over towards you.
She trapped you in a headlock, ruffling your hair even more. “Any reason you’re being extra silent today?”
“Sometimes I’m quiet.”
“Yeah, but not this much. What’s on your mind?”
“Do you think Miles will tell me? That he's Spiderman.”
“I think, Miles being Miles, he’ll stall to protect you. Speaking from Spider-experience. I can be there if you want to talk to him about it.”
“Maybe… It’s just - I’m worried he’s gonna worry that I’m a new target. He’ll have to worry about himself and me.”
Cass darted her eyes to the side like an annoyed teenager beginning their obligatory eye roll. She understood quite well the thought process. “Okay, I understand your worries, but there’s no need. You’re extremely capable of defending yourself against any brutes and remember, it’s not about what you can do to prevent it, it’s more about what you can do to pick yourself back up. Your response is much more important than your situation.”
“Okay.”
“Now, it looks like your band’s calling you home. I’ll see you later, alright?”
You glanced down. The screen on your watch was blinking rapidly. “Right, see you later.”
You twisted the knob as the wind swirled behind you. You glanced behind to see a hexagonal portal, layers and layers of different hues warping in your sight. You looked back, giving Cass a small salute as you stepped inside.
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Hey, I'd love a matchup for Castlevania, if you're up for it (was not the person who wrote you those ask anons btw, although I appreciate them clearing things up).
I’m a heterosexual cis woman, although I’m starting to suspect I’m on the asexual spectrum. So, I'd prefer a male matchup. Also not super sure I'd be down with polygamy.
I'm a premed student (no time for irl dating unfortunately 😭). I also work as a volunteer EMS on weekends. Outside of my school and work my hobbies are singing (musical theatre and classical mostly), theatre (backstage work as well as performing), skiing (the only sport I’m any good at) and TTRPGs (was this close to getting my group to play a Castlevania campaign 😔).
I’m also a big nerd about history, American comics, and folklore. I’ll rant for hours about my special interests if nobody stops me. I’d describe myself as ambiverted. I'm socially awkward, but also very loud and expressive. I’m a bit oblivious, I’ll admit lol, but I do my best. My MBTI is ESTJ, and while I doubt MBTI's accuracy, I agree I’m very Type A. When it comes to the things I’m good at, I’m a major perfectionist, but I’m proud of how hard I work. I think my greatest weakness is probably thoughtlessness, but my greatest strength is humility.
My giving love language is acts of service, and my receiving love language is quality time. I'm verbally affectionate towards friends but I freeze like a deer in headlights if somebody flirts with me.
Also: I know appearance isn’t super important, but I think it’s important to know I’m only around 5’0 tall. As my friends say, "headpat size."
A/N: Okay for you my PreMed Student Anon (that’s amazing, congratulations by the way!)I have two potential matches in mind. You said you’re heterosexual and would prefer male results, so I chose two from that gender because I honestly couldn’t decide which would please you best. For you, I’m thinking either Dracula or Alucard would be your perfect romantic matchups! (It really does just come down to which man you’d like better: father or son, lol.)
Dracula (Vlad Tepes), as terrifying as he may be when he decides to enact justice on the human population, is a very reserved and intellectual man. He’s introverted and devoted much of his life to learning about anything and everything from medicine to history to poetry.
In this instance let’s pretend he’s either never met Lisa or he did meet and fall in love with Lisa but she either lived a full life and died of natural causes, or Dracula was able to overcome the anger and blame he held for humanity following her murder.
Dracula is a patient man. Being immortal means he understands that you must dedicate much of your time to your studies and your volunteer work. So long as the few moments you do get to spend with him are uninterrupted and meaningful, I believe he’d be understanding, and even supportive of your academic endeavors. He was more than happy to aid Lisa in her quest to learn more about biology, so I have no doubt he’d do similarly for you. Any questions you have, he’d gladly answer them. Any resource he has in his castle, any book or scroll, any record of any kind is yours to inspect. He has no doubts that you’re going to make a very accomplished professional one day, and he has every intention of doing whatever it takes to help you get there.
Along with that patience comes an understanding that sex is not the end all be all in life. Sure, it has its place for either pleasure or reproduction but it doesn't need to dominate relationships. If sex is something you're hesitant about, or against having, it doesn't make much difference to him. Dracula would be fine without sleeping with you, so long as he can have you in other ways. Holding you close, holding your hand, sitting next to you in front of a warm fire- those things are what make him feel close to your heart.
Dracula also enjoys how animated you get when you go on rants about your special interests. He’s very versed in history and folklore as well, although not American comics, so he would listen intently as you teach him all you know.
As an ESTJ, you would be very grounding for him (an INTJ), while still having a great deal in common. The both of you value an intellectual connection in a relationship while your more empathetic, extroverted side would help push him to see the truth of humanity where he may previously have only seen things in shades of black and white. You both strive for the best, and that suits you just fine with your perfectionism, but do be warned, there may be times you don’t see eye to eye. What you hold as most important in an issue or debate may be different than what he holds. Remember to be patient. INTJs are prone to stubbornness, but being a Type A personality, I do not doubt that you’ll be able to handle any contrary moods of his just fine.
Your thoughtlessness can also be a source of discourse within the relationship, as Dracula is bound to worry about you. You’re human, you're fragile and under so much pressure. He cares deeply for you and does not want to see you hurt. The one advantage you do have, however, is your humility. It keeps you from being both arrogant and thoughtless which is a much more dangerous combination. So long as you are aware enough of your limits, and keep your wits about you the best you can, Dracula promises to trust you enough to let you come and go as you need to, so long as you’re willing to admit when you need help. But with your best trait being your humility, that shouldn't be a problem.
Dracula is so touched by your acts of service. Being such an ancient and scary vampire no one ever thought to make him tea or ask if he needed help with anything. He feels so fortunate to have a partner who does not see him solely as ‘Dracula’, Lord of Vampires, but as Vlad Tepes, a man at heart.
Not to mention your size difference is too adorable for words. He’s so tall and you’re so tiny… He always kneels whenever you ask for a kiss, he’ll never ask you to step on a stool or climb a ladder to reach him. He’s more than happy to come to you. He loves you. You are his new light, his new reason to believe in humanity.
Alucard (Adrian Tepes) could also be a good match for you! He’s an ambivert like you, although he may not admit it. He’s the son of a scholar and a doctor, so he’s very understanding when it comes to your education and career. And his empathetic nature makes him extremely compatible with your considerate one.
As Alucard is a dhampir and immortal, this matchup could work in either medieval times or modern times. For the sake of this matchup, imagine whatever you might prefer.
Alucard hasn’t always had the best experience when it comes to sex. Granted, you can’t judge every potential future experience based on one horrible one, but he’s not the kind of guy who jumps into bed easily. He has reservations and feels very insecure about the whole act. Should he ever engage in it, he’d need a partner who’s very understanding, or just as nervous as he is about the whole thing. In hindsight, I don’t think Alucard would mind not having all that much sex: for him, your continued company means more than any sexual endeavor could.
Alucard is very impressed with your decision to go into pre med. He knows how much work that means you’re going to be undertaking, and he’ll do whatever he can to support you, either in your studies or in your personal life. He’s very well-read and rather educated on biology as his mother was a physician, so feel free to ask him any questions or have him quiz you before exams. He’s also a bit of an obsessive lover. When he decides he likes someone, he makes a point to memorize that person. (Recall the Trevor and Sypha dolls?) He wants to know what you think and why you think it. That way, he can anticipate your thoughts or needs.
And he does quite enjoy it when you sing to him, especially if you sing him to sleep. Sleep hasn't always come easy to him, but with your presence and your lovely voice, it’s as if an angel is singing him a lullaby. I also believe Alucard would absolutely thrive playing TTRPG: he’s sarcastic, smart and strategic. I really think he’d dominate any campaign he set his mind to. Plus, it’d be great socialization for him besides you.
As an ESTJ you’re fairly compatible with Alucard’s INFJ. You’re just extroverted enough to pull him out of his idealistic daydreams, but grounded and predictable enough not to shake his confidence or trust in you/your relationship. The only possible issue is that INFJs can sometimes get caught up in the fantastical destiny of it all: it’s about people and purpose. Whereas ESTJs tend to be a bit more practical- you value reality and stability a bit more than potential and daydreams. But I don’t envision this to be a huge problem, so long as you push communication with Alucard. He internalizes a lot. He’ll need to be reminded to share his inner feelings. So long as you do that, I don’t see any major discourse between you two.
Alucard may be a little disappointed in your moments of thoughtlessness, but at the same time, he finds them endearing. You try so hard: you’re a perfectionist like he is, and even though you’re only human, you strive for the same greatness. It’s rather admirable. He likes that about you.
Alucard would also be very touched by your acts of service, mainly because he often finds himself doing the service for others. It’s nice to be taken care of for a change. And he is very happy to spend quality time with you. He’d follow you everywhere if you let him. So long as he’s near you, he feels complete. He’s always leaning down to give you soft forehead kisses whenever you’re around. You’re so precious to him.
#casltevania x reader#castlevania imagines#castlevania imagine#vlad dracula tepes imagine#alucard imagine#alucard x reader#alucard tepes x reader#alucard tepes imagine#castlevania alucard imagine#castlevania dracula#castlevania#castlevania matchups#matchups
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I finally got to check out the update!
This isn’t a theory, but I’d like to share my thoughts/observations
Everyone knows something. To some varying degree, everyone knows about the show, or being puppets, or whatever’s going on behind the curtains.
Sally’s audio suddenly becoming crystal clear really threw me off. The team wasn’t able to hear that part, but we were. I firmly believe she is warning us - trying to… shed some light on this world of theirs.
She knows what goes on after dark. She hears it. But she says it comes from beyond the tree line, would that rule out the inky black void underneath home as a suspect? (No lmao)
Also her costume?? Brilliant and ironic. Pedrolino is played out to be a servant, the butt of the joke, a plot device. Unbefitting for what we know Sally to be. Does she know she’s not the real star of the show? Are these her insecurities manifesting in clown clothes? I really don’t know but it makes me think!
Also you should really look up Pedrolino’s character it’s quite insightful.
I don’t think Eddie is malicious, but he is suspicious.
I strongly believe he has adhd, so being super dim and forgetful yet remarkably well versed in a niche subject doesn’t sound particularly incriminating to me. Maybe he gets to read some of Franks books when he’s at his house >.>
Maybe he’s bummed out about being dismissed all the time and wants to connect with his neighbors through their interests.
Maybe I’m projecting ^^;
His choice of costume.. wasn’t Frankenstein’s monster also misunderstood?
But surely Eddie has to have connections to the outside in order to get Howdy’s stock orders.
Barnaby patting the camera and calling it Wally
Hmmmmm
Also as a side note, didn’t Clown say Wally likes to hold apples. So why would he eat Barnaby’s apple, why betray his beloved friend? (I say betray but it’s not that serious… or maybe it is??)
The team actually admitting about the symptoms this time. Does it hurt? Sure does sound like it.
They’re all infected by now surely, whatever’s festering behind the screens. It and everyone else seems to be getting antsier.
Everyone was freaking out about Julie’s bio but that HAD to be a cover up. It’s the 70’s y’all.
The hilariously bad Halloween costume just reminded me of those old plastic bibs with the restaurant logo printed on it my parents would put on me every time we went out to eat. Is this just another 70’s era thing or were they really that confident that people would buy whatever Wally costume was on the shelf?
Wally and Howdy’s scary stories were my favorite.
That is all, thanks you If you read this far.
#welcome home puppet show#welcome home halloween update#look they all know something I just feel it#I think I’m projecting when I say I don’t believe Eddie is evil in the slightest#I mean I do think hes doing something but not out of I’ll intent#my love for Sally grew exponentially with this update
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Hey! I’ve got an Elvis question, just popped into my head. So did he compose the instrument parts of songs? Or was he more of a vocals only guy. I feel like I should know this but I guess I don’t!
This is a great question! I would not go so far as to call him a composer of most of his material (he was very adamant that he wasn't a songwriter), but he certainly filled the role of producer. He often knew exactly the sound he wanted and would advise the musicians until they understood his intentions. Because of his encyclopedic knowledge of music, he could pin down sounds and influences in a way that surprised the experienced musicians he worked with. He was an adequate rhythm guitarist and a pretty good piano player, but in general, he gave musicians who worked with him space to create and then guided them until he found the pocket he wanted.
In the early days, there were only two or three musicians in his band, and it was mostly democratic, like, the takes either worked or they didn't. They were very improvisational. At the same time, Elvis could get hyperperfectionist about the recordings and hold them up for hours. For instance, "Hound Dog" was a staple at his live shows before he recorded the song, and he wanted it to have a different tempo and feel on the record, much faster than how they typically performed it. For whatever reason, Elvis wasn't satisfied with it until they were about ready to throw him through a window, but that's exactly when he got the angry, frustrated sound he wanted.
"Elvis drove the band through thirty-one takes, slowly fashioning a menacing, rough-trade version quite different than the one they had been performing on the stage." - Robert Fink
Obviously whole books have been written about the recording sessions, which I have yet to fully dive into, so I can't speak super authoritatively on this, but in general, Elvis lost quite a bit of control over the recording sessions as Col. Parker moved him more toward releasing movie soundtracks, which had to be sung to scene specifications. In those instances, Elvis would just tell the singers and musicians he was working with to "just do your best," knowing that the material was pretty lame.
But he was able to take control of his sound again in his gospel albums, during his TV special and while working on the Vegas/touring live shows. He handpicked the musicians here, so they were all the best in the business; he had a great deal of trust in them to contribute their own signatures. But again, he usually had a pretty clear understanding of the song dynamics, the shape he was going for, and could coax it out of everyone. You can see him conducting and coaching here:
youtube
Through the late '70s, he often lost interest in staying on top of his game, both in live shows and in recordings. The problem with the live shows is that he got bored with performing the same songs, and efforts to change it up didn't go that well due to a lack of rehearsal and underwhelming audience feedback, so he went back to playing it safe. And with some of the later albums, he just wasn't feeling well or didn't connect with the songs as much. So in those cases he could sometimes just churn out a song that had already been perfected by the musicians and he just came in for the vocals. But he loved music so much that he just always had Opinions About It.
But just to go back to the producer thing, he's the one who arranged "Blue Moon," which doesn't sound like anything that Sam Phillips or anyone else had ever or would ever put out. Elvis got obsessed with atmospheric sounds and different effects that he knew exactly how to tune to an emotional frequency. So this ethereal, distorted echo pairs with his choice of lyrics, only repeating the first, sad verse of "Blue Moon" and never letting the storyline resolve into finding love. No one knew what the hell he was doing, but it took them so long to get him out of his shy, anxious shell that they didn't want to tell him to stop.
youtube
#elvis presley#insane hours always the insane hours#thank u for the question bb! i hope this was informative
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for the hangman in a lab coat doing serious scientific sex experiments with matt as his test subject verse: adam wants to see what matt would look like double stuffed, i.e., they try double penetration with someone else
Greedy - also on AO3
~
Matt's finally ready to suggest his second Mox-related experiment, and Adam is so ready to take a back seat to his mad scientist boyfriend.
~
Thank you for this genius prompt, V!!! Title from Greedy by Ariana Grande.
~
Matt skips into the hotel room, throwing open the door without fanfare, like it hadn’t been a week since they’d seen each other, like he hadn’t been in California packing stuff up in his house to ship cross country to Adam’s. To their home. “I have an idea. An experiment idea.”
“You do?” Adam asks. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks up at Matt.
Who immediately goes pink.
“What?”
“I – forgot what I going to say.” Matt shuffles over to the bed. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Adam says back. He smiles as Matt curls into him, treating him, essentially, as a mattress. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Matt sighs. “You pushed your glasses up your nose and it was cute.” He lifts his head and smiles at Adam, all sweet. “And then I remembered I get to, like, kiss you and keep you and whatever, and…” He trails off and flops back onto Adam’s chest.
“Lord,” Adam says. “You’re all gooey today.” He sets his book down and wraps his arms around Matt’s back. “Must have been the week apart.” He kisses the top of Matt’s head, reminding himself that he’ll get to have these moments every morning from now on. “Tell me what your idea is. I wanna hear.”
Matt hums. “Snuggles first.”
Snuggles turns into resting their eyes, and resting their eyes turns into sleep. Adam never sleeps as well as when Matt is playing weighted blanket on top of him, but it’s in the back of his mind as he drifts off to sleep that he never got an answer about Matt’s idea.
~
They’re in the middle of the venue, helping Tony with some organization, when Matt huffs.
“I have that stupid cowlick going,” he grumbles. “I seriously need you to get that hairbrush situation fixed.”
“Or, what if,” Adam says, moving a speaker where he’s been directed, “you could get your own damned hair brush.” He puts the speaker down and pulls out the cord, running it to the wall.
Matt sits on top of the speaker. “But then I don’t get to share yours.”
“More like you don’t get to have that tiny bit of extra space in your luggage.” Adam leans down and kisses Matt’s forehead. “Get up, come on. We have to get out of here before anybody comes over here and makes us do something else.”
The footsteps feel annoyingly appropriate, but Matt lights up as he jumps to his feet.
“You look so fucked up,” Mox says, looking Matt up and down. Adam stands. “Why do you look like you slept with a rock for a pillow?”
“Considering Adam’s pecs, that’s actually pretty accurate,” Matt retorts.
Adam snickers. “Thanks, babe.”
Mox chews his lollipop and looks Adam up and down. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, by the way.” He winks at Adam. “You looked great at that death match.” He runs his thumb along his lower lip, eyes locked on Adam’s mouth. “Sort of jealous you didn’t drink my blood in ours, but whatever.”
Matt clears his throat. “Well, we’re needed in the EVP room. Thing. With Tony.” He grabs Adam’s hand and drags him away at a speed that feels almost comical.
“What’s wrong with you?” Adam laughs. “We weren’t done with the speakers.”
“My idea,” Matt says. “What the eff. It’s like he can read my mind.”
“Read your – oh.” Adam gets it. “Oh, this is about that idea you keep talking about whenever I’m blowing you?” He slides his fingertips along Matt’s hip, sliding under his shirt. But, for the first time Adam can remember, it doesn’t distract Matt even a bit.
Matt nods. “I wanna ask him,” he says. “I, um. I really – I think it’s the right time, you know.” He bounces on his toes. “Do you think he’ll want to?”
“I think,” Adam says, stepping into Matt’s space until Matt’s pressed up against the wall, “you should say exactly what you want him to do.” He leans in, lips to Matt’s ear. “What you want both of us to do.”
Matt exhales slowly, deeply, intensely. “I want you – both – to…” He swallows, and Adam gears up to hear him say it. “I want you both to fuck me at the same time.”
Adam chuckles in Matt’s ear, licking his lips. “So it’s more than just a fantasy now,” he says. “You really want it?”
“I do,” Matt says. “Um. If you want it.”
Adam pulls back. “Say that again?”
“If you don’t want to, I get it,” Matt says. “I mean, having him, um, rail me when you came in afterwards was kind of different. I know that.” He presses his lips together, still managing to look cute when talking about being fucked by two men at once. “So I need to you to know that I’m okay if it it’s just a fantasy.” He grabs Adam’s hands, and looks so goddamned sincere with those gigantic eyes that Adam almost wants to drop to a knee now.
He does have the ring in his bag this time.
“So, just, I’m okay if it’s all talk,” Matt says, nodding. “I’m okay with it.”
Adam raises an eyebrow. “Do you think that I only want it to be talk?”
Matt shrugs. “I mentioned it to Kenny.”
Adam raises an eyebrow. “You brought up our threesome to Kenny?”
“You know how he is,” Matt says, waving it off like that statement makes any sense at all. “He had a similar thing going a while back and told me to make sure you were entirely on board with it before bringing it to Mox’s attention.” He wrinkles his nose. “Apparently Kenny asked Nick before double checking with Kota and it all went really bad.”
“I mean, you brought it up to me months ago,” Adam says, and he finds himself playing with Matt’s hair, running silky locks through his fingertips. Mox was right, though. There’s a bunch of knots he slowly starts working through. “And did I seem like I didn’t want to back then?”
“We had just finished having sex,” Matt says, like an explanation. “Sometimes we say things in a post orgasm haze that we don’t mean.”
“Like that one time you said you could see the appeal of the Undertaker, you mean.”
Matt frowns. “You promised me you would never bring that up.”
“No,” Adam says, “no, you told me to promise never to bring it up, and I told you I would save it for a time when it was appropriate for the situation, and here we are.”
Matt rolls his eyes. “You suck.”
“Says you,” Adam says, kissing his forehead. “Now, tell me again. Tell me exactly what you want so I can tell you I am so fucking into it I may have hidden extra lube in my checked bags every goddamned time we fly just in case you decide it’s time.”
Matt exhales slowly. “Really?”
Adam nods. “Really.”
Matt stands on his toes and kisses Adam with a fervor, hands wound around his neck and fingers in his hair. “I want it,” he gasps, against Adam’s lips. “But – but I wanna make sure you – that we all know I belong to you, in the end.”
Adam whines. “Fuck. Goddamnit, baby, you can’t say shit like that when we have a show to help run.” He leans in and kisses Matt as possessively as he can, trying to make sure Matt knows. He’s always Adam’s.
“Okay,” Matt says, looking dazed and floating when Adam pulls away. “We have to talk to Mox first, though.”
~
The opportunity comes later that night at the hotel, when Adam and Matt are stopping by the hotel restaurant for a late night snack.
“I just really want French fries,” Adam says, dragging Matt. “Come on.”
When they walk in, Mox has a plate of fries in front of him.
“Huh,” Adam says. “Look at that, baby.”
“You said you wanted French fries.”
Adam decides that he’s earned a bad idea, so he walks up to Mox and grabs a fry from the plate, popping it in his mouth.
“What the fuck?” Mox asks turning to him. Adam grins as he chews, Matt sliding around to Mox’s other side.
“Hey,” Adam says. “Matt has a question for you.”
Mox grins. “Oh. Anything like last time?”
“Similar,” Matt says, and Adam can’t help but notice the way he trails his fingertips along the back of Mox’s neck as he walks to his other side. “But it requires the two of you to be, like, cool with being near each other. More than last time.”
Mox leans back, which gives Adam the opportunity to take a few more fries. “Talk to me,” he says. “And stop fuckin’ eating my French fries, you dick.” He slaps Adam’s hand when he reaches out to grab another. “You two fucking suck, by the way.”
“We weren’t thinking sucking would be involved,” Matt says, hopping into the barstool. “Well, this time.”
“This time?” Mox asks, turning to Adam. “This becoming a thing?”
Adam shrugs. “Don’t ask me. This one’s all his idea.”
“I thought you were the experimenter or something.”
Adam frowns, and reaches out to take another fry. Mox doesn’t stop him. “My lab’s been taken over by a madman.”
“You have never once complained about my ideas,” Matt says. “Anyway, if you two will stop bitching, here’s what I’m thinking.”
Mox has to straight up slap his hand over Matt’s mouth at one point when the bartender is coming over to refill their waters.
“Baby, I love you,” Adam says, fighting back laughter, “but if you say ‘just get your dick in there and we’ll make it work’ in public like that, somebody eventually is going to leak that to a dirt sheet and people are going to start expecting very different pay per views.”
Matt’s eyes light up a little more than strictly necessary.
“Hard no,” Adam says firmly. He glances around, then leans in, over Mox. “I ain’t sharing you with anybody except for him. You’re mine.”
Matt’s eyes widen and he settles back into his seat. “So I shouldn’t bring up that thing I wanted to ask related to Claudio?”
Mox laughs so hard he slides off the barstool.
~
Wrestling’s a sport. Adam knows that. They train and focus, and Matt goes hard on exercises specifically researched to make him better at certain wrestling moves. But Adam has never seen anybody train the way Matt has the past few weeks for this particular event. They’d been messing around with Matt taking more and more for months, but since their conversation with Mox a few weeks before, things have gotten almost clinical.
They’re in bed, Adam on his back as Matt sinks down on him.
“I’m just saying,” Matt says, far too put together to be filled up by Adam, “I don’t think it’s possible for Mox to be bigger than this one.” His turned around the opposite direction from Adam. “Okay, go ahead.”
Adam grins. “You sure?” he asks. He touches around Matt’s hole gentle, giving soft, listless thrusts with his dick and a finger. “I can just keep this up as long as you want.”
Matt falls a little forward on his hands. “I – okay, always, but I’m really – I want to make sure I can handle this one, too.”
It takes a few minutes, some deep breathing from Matt, and Adam keeping his hips as still as possible, but Matt manages to take both Adam and the largest dildo they have in their collection.
“Fuck,” Adam says, staring. “I wish I could see your face, babe. But this view is out of this world.”
He keeps himself absolutely still as he slowly works the dildo in and out.
Matt exhales. “This – I feel –”
Adam freezes. “Are you okay?”
“This is incredible,” Matt says. “I don’t get – this…Adam, I may be obsessed with this.”
“Fucking awesome,” Adam murmurs. “Because I kind of am, too.”
He reaches around without moving his hips but can only get his fingertips along Matt’s cock.
“Oh,” Matt says, voice a whisper. “Oh, okay. Take the other – take the fake one out. I want you to really give it to me, okay?”
Truly, Adam has never said no to Matt.
~
Matt sprints into Adam’s bedroom, skidding to a stop right before crashing into his bed.
“Hey,” Adam says, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at my phone,” Matt says, throwing himself on the bed and shoving the phone into Adam’s face.
“Even cross eyed, I couldn’t read that,” Adam mutters. He bats at Matt’s hand until he pulls his hand back and Adam can grab the phone.
got a suite Tuesday nite til fridya morning if you two are in this week
“He spelled Friday wrong,” Adam says, frowning down at the phone. He looks back up at Matt. “Is that why you’re freaking out?”
“Don’t – focus, Adam!” Matt says. When Adam looks up, he can finally see how excited Matt is. “Mox got a suite! So we can do the whole two guys at once thing!” He does what Adam may have to consider the most charming happy dance he’s seen from Matt, something similar to when he’s being a particularly huge bitch in a match.
“Oh, shit,” Adam says. “Yeah. Hell yeah. Let’s do it.”
They go down on each other in Adam’s – in their, he’s still not used to it, it feels like a dream – laundry room, giggling, as they pack for the flight to Dynamite, and Adam is beginning to get worried he’s just as excited as Matt.
~
Matt is enthusiastic about everything the next few days. He gleefully takes his sneakers off for TSA, accepts the lack of diet Coke on the plane graciously, and doesn’t say a word when the Lyft is twenty minutes late and has a car that smells like four gallons of cologne. Even Adam’s barely kind enough not to bitch about it. Matt practically bounces his way to the hotel room and to the venue.
“You really are excited for tomorrow night, aren’t you?”
Matt nods fervently. “Also, I’ve had, like six coffees.”
“Six – when?!” Adam asks. He drops his things in the EVP room. “It’s two in the afternoon. When did you even have the time?!”
“When you went to talk to Silver and Reynolds,” Matt replies. He sits on the couch crosslegged, but still tapping his fingers rapidly. “Concessions had a bunch of coffee ready so I kept refilling.”
“There is something so deeply wrong with you, baby,” he laughs, kissing Matt’s forehead. “Chill out a little bit before we go do professional shit, okay? I don’t want you to get in trouble for being weird in public.”
“You like it when I’m weird in public,” Matt says, and his grin goes dangerous. “You really liked it when I was weird when you were doing camera for that one Mox match.”
Adam exhales slowly. “Yeah, but nobody knew you were there.”
“You did,” Matt says, grinning.
“You shouldn’t be so proud of that,” Adam says, kissing Matt’s forehead. “We risked getting fired.”
Matt shrugs. “Yeah, but we didn’t.”
Adam does a terrible job of paying attention to anything during Dynamite. He and the Bucks are backstage only, which means Matt is half in his lap as he studies the cameras and makes calls while Adam presses buttons at his command.
“I really hate how I have to do this now,” he mutters during a commercial. “What happened to me hanging out backstage?”
“We got back together and you got stuck with me,” Matt says. He’s half in Adam’s lap at this point.
“Yeah, and you two made it everybody’s problem,” Nick says, grinning as he mutes his mic. “Now shut up so I can cue music, you idiots.” He’s been in a much better mood for a while. Adam kind of wants to know why, but also thinks he shouldn’t dare to ask.
Adam follows instructions as best he can, but he really needs to talk to Tony about not doing this next time. Dynamite and Rampage finish smoothly, in Adam’s opinion, but Matt’s got some complaints as he drives back to the hotel, with Nick and Kenny in the back seats.
“I just think,” Matt continues, “that if we’re expected to communicate with all members of the roster, everybody should be given a company phone that actually works well, you know?”
“That’s great, Matt, but I asked if you wanted to get a Frosty,” Nick says.
~
Matt dives at him when they close the door to their hotel room, and it’s only reflexes that save Matt from falling to the floor. Adam grabs him at the ass and holds him up on instinct.
“You know well and good I can’t fuck you tonight if we’re going to see Mox tomorrow,” Adam says, dropping Matt on the bed.
He gets giant, miserable booboo eyes in response. “No, but you can suck my dick.” He flutters his eyelashes. “C’mon, I’ve been in such a good mood today.”
“Have you?” Adam asks. He kicks off his shoes and crawls onto the bed with a grin. “Didn’t you bitch at everyone you saw about the shitty company phones?”
“That wasn’t bitching! It was a companywide improvement recommendation!” Matt says as Adam’s hands go for his belt. Adam can feel he’s already hard.
“How are you always – you were rambling about chocolate vs peppermint Frostys, like, five minutes ago.”
“And?” Matt asks as Adam pulls down his pants. “Now I’m here.” He gestures to Adam. “Come on. How else am I ever gonna react when you’re in front of me?”
“Goddamnit,” Adam says with a sigh, eye level with Matt’s dick. “You’re being sweet. Now I have to suck your dick.”
~
“You nervous?” Adam asks, grinning down at Matt. They’ve got all their bags with them, since Mox as offered them to stay the night at the suite after it’s all said and done, and Adam’s just waiting for Matt to knock.
Matt swallows. “No.”
“Then knock.”
“You knock.”
Adam raises an eyebrow. “It’s your idea.”
“I’m your boyfriend,” Matt says. “Aren’t you supposed to do what I want or something?”
Adam snorts. “Yeah, okay. Then we’ll be out here for hours, baby. It’s your fantasy.” He leans in and kisses across Matt’s cheekbone until his lips reach Matt’s ear. “And your experiment. Go ahead. Knock.”
Matt’s shaky and shivery when he knocks, but there’s not an ounce of hesitation as he does so.
Mox throws the door open a few moments later. “Hey, douchebags,” he says, grinning. “How are ya?”
“Good,” Matt says primly. “Can we come in?”
“Sure, baby,” Mox says, popping the lollipop back between his lips. Adam’s a bit entranced. Mox steps back and Adam follows Matt into the spacious suite. It really is large – an entire living area with a small kitchenette, giant TV. He can see the door to the bedroom open, revealing a giant bed.
“Get comfy,” Mox says, throwing himself on the couch. Adam watches how the pale washed denim stretches across strong thighs, how the Death Jitsu long sleeve tee stretches across his broad chest.
Adam swallows. Maybe he’s just as eager for this as Matt.
“Well,” Matt says. “I’m, um. Off to take a shower.” He brushes down his shirt. “I’ll see the two of you in a minute.”
He stops off, one of his bags in his hand, like he already owns the suite, his shirt flying behind him back into the living room.
“He always like that?” Mox asks, stretching out.
Adam nods. “Always.”
“Seems exhausting,” Mox says, grabbing the remote.
“Sure fuckin’ is,” Adam says, laughing. “Put on the show from last night. Matt was in charge of cameras and I want to see if he did a good job.”
The two of them watch the first match and two promos of Dynamite before they hear someone clear their throat, rather insistently, from the bedroom.
“You need something, princess?” Mox yells.
“Yeah,” Matt yells back. “It’s about time.”
“You just turned the shower off, so don’t get bitchy,” Adam calls, and he rolls his eyes at Mox.
Mox grins. “God, you two are gonna be so fun.”
Adam feels a chill wash down his body, a mix of anticipation and Mox’s words.
Matt, inexplicably, is dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of soft looking sweatpants. “Alright,” Matt says, stretching his arms out and tucking his hands behind his head. “Here I am.”
“Here you are,” Adam says. He can’t resist walking over and kissing Matt, just a little one, before stepping back to stand next to Mox.
Matt pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes darting from Adam to Mox. The attitude, the cockiness, starts to fall off of him like sheets of snow from a roof, revealing Matt’s pretty-eyed desire laid bare.
Nobody speaks. Mox and Adam stand next to each other, unmoving. Adam hates to admit it, but he wants to follow Mox’s lead on this one.
“Is – isn’t anybody gonna come over here?” Matt asks. He wiggles. “You’re just staring at me like – like you want to eat me alive or something.”
“That what you want?” Adam asks.
Matt presses his lips together, eyes flicking from Mox to Adam. “Not quite.”
“Yeah?” Mox asks. “Tell me what you’re looking for, Matt. Tell me exactly what you want.”
Matt exhales. “E-everything?”
“I want to hear every detail that you’re thinking off,” Mox says. His eyes flick to Adam, who nods. “Or else we’re not doing it.”
Matt nods. “Yeah, that – that’s fair. Gotta make sure we’re all in agreement.”
Adam laughs. “Baby, I love you so much, but you’re making our threesome sound like a business deal.”
“I mean, it kind of is,” Matt says, shrugging. “Only instead of credit cards, it’s dicks. And instead of a cash register, it’s me.” He flares red. “Oh, boy.”
“Did you just get turned on by talking about money?” Mox turns to Adam. “What the fuck is wrong with him?
“That’s the wrong question,” Adam says, and he walks over to the bed so he can smack roll Matt over and smack his ass. “The question is what isn’t wrong with him.”
“I am right here,” Matt grumbles, but he’s got a little smile on his lips.
“Tell ya what,” Mox says, falling into the chair. “How about you lay down on the bed and tell us while you touch yourself?” Mox pats the arm of the chair. “Come on over, Cowboy. Bet you’re used to riding.”
“What? That doesn’t even make sense.” But Adam walks over and makes himself comfortable on Mox’s lap, flinging a leg over the arm of the chair.
“You two are too big for that chair,” Matt says, licking his lips as he stares. “Way too big.”
“Is this anxiety coming through?” Adam asks. “Because if this is a metaphor –”
“Is not,” Matt scoffs. He takes off his shirt like he’s offended at the suggestion. “Mox, you don’t know this, but Adam and I have been practicing.”
Mox chuckles, a warm rumble on Adam’s back. “Practicing?”
“If that’s what they call it then we should be experts by now,” Adam mutters.
“Maybe not – oh – maybe not practicing, I guess, but I’ve been working myself up to this, and I have been able to take the biggest one we have with Adam,” Matt says. He seems cocky, proud of himself as he pulls down his sweatpants. He’s already hard, pretty red cock curving up toward his belly as he steps back and lays down on the bed. “I mean, not to be a dick, but you can’t be much bigger than that one, based on our previous encounter.”
“He always talk like that?” Mox asks, lips by Adam’s neck, and it is distracting as hell that his arch rival’s lips are brushing against his skin while his boyfriend is jerking off on the bed. “He really does make everything sound like a business meeting.”
“You get used to it,” Adam says, grinding back on Mox’s lap. He can play dirty, too. “You gotta lean into it. Treat it like a corporate role play or something.” He grins. “Baby, show Mox what happens when I call you Mr. Jackson.”
Matt exhales, entire body rolling as he fucks up into his fist. “That’s not fair,” he murmurs. “I’m trying to explain a fantasy here.”
“Then explain it,” Mox says. “We ain’t got all day.”
That is an absolute lie, and all three of them know it. Mox made sure this suite was available until 11am tomorrow for this exact reason, and yet Matt nods, turning his glassy eyes over to Mox and Adam.
“I want you both inside me at once,” he says, eyes locked onto Adam. “I want you both,” he pauses, and Adam knows he’s steadying himself to look at Mox when he says it, “to fuck me at the same time.”
“Yeah?” Mox says. He slides his hand into Adam’s lap. “Feels like the Cowboy’s into it.”
“You are, too, jackass,” Adam replies, rolling his ass against Mox’s hard cock. “Don’t get to uppity about it.
“I never said I wasn’t.”
Adam stands and pulls his shirt off over his head. “Matty, hands off.”
Matt takes his hand off his dick. “Why?”
He grins at Matt, then grins back at Mox. “We can’t let Mox get started here without a show, can we?”
“Oh!” Matt says. “Oh, sure. Yeah, I can do that.” He makes little grabby hands, and Adam wants to fuck him silly right now. But they have plans. “C’mere.”
Adam leans over Matt and kisses him deep, keeping his body away from Matt’s as he licks into his mouth, as he marks a few claims over Matt’s skin. Mox will share his body, sure. But Matt will always, always be Adam’s.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mox murmurs. Adam can hear rustling. “Look, you two both know you’re hot as hell, but this feels illegal to watch or something.” Adam thinks Mox has shucked all of his clothes. “Fuck.”
Adam slides his hand down Matt’s thigh and digs his fingers in the way he know gets Matt all whimpery, hiking his leg up. Matt drops his head back and moans.
“That one was on purpose, wasn’t it,” Mox says. Adam can hear his breathing. “Jesus Christ.”
Adam laughs. “Yeah. He’s good at being a pretty little performer.” Adam leans down and kisses Matt again, gently. “You ready, baby?”
Matt nods, determination in his eyes. “I got this.”
“Pretty little performer,” Adam repeated, voice no more than a murmur as he brushes Matt’s hair from his eyes. “One set of eyes on you isn’t enough, is it? You need two people all over you.”
Matt whines like he’s trying to get more contact.
“You want him over here too?” Adam asks. He bites at Matt’s neck. “Can’t get enough. Greedy son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Matt pants. “Greedy. Want both of you. C’mon.”
Adam feels the mattress dip as Mox sits on the bed next to Matt. “Pretty little thing,” he says. “Just wants to be used, huh?”
“Absolutely.” Adam pulls back to see Matt’s chest heaving. “One dick’s not enough for him. He’s gotta be split open by two.”
Matt whines. “This is fun and all, but I really, really want to get railed now, okay?”
“You know that’s not actually what you want,” Mox says. “Say what you actually want.”
Matt flames red. “I want you two inside of me at once.”
“That’s better,” Adam says. He grabs Matt by the hip and flips him over. “But first, we gotta get you ready.”
“I got an idea,” Mox says. He slides down the bed and palms at Matt’s ass. “You like getting eaten out?”
Adam rolls his eyes at how Matt immediately shifts so his ass is on display. “Yes,” he deadpans. “Yes, he does.”
“Cool,” Mox says, and he dives in.
Adam’s never gotten to see Matt’s face when somebody’s tongue is in his ass, but it’s almost as desperate and open as when he’s getting fucked.
“You like that?” Adam asks.
“Yes,” Matt hisses. “Yes, I – oh my god.”
“Tongue’s not just good for talking, huh?” Adam says. He leans in and kisses Matt, awkward as their faces are pressed into the mattress, but Matt doesn’t seem too upset about it.
Mox makes sloppy, slurping noises, eager and goal oriented, and Adam’s got no choice but to rip off his pants and stroke his dick about it.
“Please?” Matt asks, fluttering his eyelashes.
“No,” Adam says. “You have to wait. I’m not putting my dick in your mouth when you specifically asked for it in your ass.”
Matt pouts for a second, then gasps. “Oh, Mox, right there.”
“Yeah?” Mox says, and his beard is shimmering with spit. “There?”
Matt nods. “I can take another finger, c’mon.”
“When’d that happen?” Adam asks. He’s not confused, exactly. But.
“About a minute ago, when you were fucking around with him,” Mox says. “He took it so pretty, too.”
Adam can tell when Mox adds another finger by Matt’s face.
“You use the –”
“What do you think I am, an amateur?” Mox asks. He picks up the bottle, already with a sizeable amount missing, and wiggles it with his free hand. “Of course I used lube.” He must do something interesting with his fingers because Matt gasps. “Didn’t I, Matt?”
Matt nods. “Okay, this is fun, whatever, but this has been too much teasing.” He grabs at Adam’s arm until Adam falls so he’s half slumped on the pillows. “Get in me.”
“You are not ready,” Mox says. “Like, maybe for one.”
“Exactly,” Matt says, and he swings a leg over Adam’s hips and sinks down on Adam’s cock so fast it’s almost impossible. Matt exhales so deeply and so thoroughly it’s like he’s surfacing from a riptide. “There we go.” He rocks a little, like he’s getting used to the size of Adam. “Okay. Mox, go ahead.”
Adam and Mox meet eyes over Matt’s shoulders, and Adam sees his befuddlement mirrored in Mox’s eyes.
“When the fuck did you get the idea you’re in charge?” Mox asks. “And, no, hold on.”
“A finger, obviously,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “Come on. You want in on this, right?” He rolls his hips masterfully and Adam can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. “You really want to wait?”
Mox bites his lip. “Jesus. You’re a fucking terror.”
“Isn’t he?” Adam says. “It’s great until it isn’t.”
Matt shrugs, throwing his hair over his shoulder. It slaps Mox in the face, but Matt doesn’t seem to even notice. He rolls his hips again.
“You gotta quit that, baby, or this’ll be over way too soon,” Adam says.
“Quick on the draw, Cowboy?”
“You shut the fuck up,” Adam says, glaring at Mox. “Nobody asked you.”
“Pretty sure your boyfriend asked me.”
“Would you two stop the measuring contest and start competing to see, like, who can fuck me better?” Matt asks. “Jesus. I thought I was the most annoying person in this room.”
“I hate it when you’re self-aware and still manage to insult me,” Adam says, but he leans up to pull Matt for a kiss.
He gasps into Matt’s mouth when he feels something brush up against the base of his dick and then alongside of it. Mox’s finger is careful, tentative, but such an unbelievable shift of experience that Adam might get addicted if he’s not careful.
“That’s – oh,” Matt says, shifting. “Okay. Yeah, that’s a lot.”
“Thought you could take Adam and the other dildo or whatever.”
“The dildo doesn’t move on its own, and it isn’t attached to a big, annoying bitch,” Matt retorts.
There’s a smack and Matt grins, eyes rolling back in his head.
“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought,” Mox grumbles.
It takes ages. Mox is incredibly meticulous, Adam is still and concentrated, and Matt, bitchy and demanding as ever, doesn’t let up the litany of complaints and demands for more.
Finally, after what seems like years, Mox is set up behind Matt, his thighs spread over Adam’s as he presses along Matt’s back.
“Are you ready?” Mox asks. “If there’s any problems –”
“There won’t be,” Matt promises.
“Matt,” Adam says, grabbing his face and turning him to look into Adam’s eyes.
Matt nods. “I’ll say. I promise.”
“Good boy.” He yanks Matt down for one last kiss. “He ready, Mox?”
“I think so.” Adam’s never seen such concentration written on Mox’s brow before. “Alright, Matt?”
“Do it,” Matt says, punctuating with a deep exhale.
Adam drops against the headboard as he feels the blunt head of Mox’s cock slide in next to him. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes.
Matt braces his hands on Adam’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.
Adam reaches up, brushes his knuckles against Matt’s cheek. “You okay?”
Matt nods. “Just – it’s so much.”
“In a good way?” Mox asks, voice tight.
“An amazing way,” Matt says. He wiggles his hips and Adam feels – fucking hell, he can feel Mox’s cock rub up against his. “Oh, this is great.”
“Do you want me to move?” Mox asks.
“Yes,” Adam and Matt say at the same time.
Mox chuckles. “Don’t have to be so eager for it, you two.” Adam can’t see much but Mox’s face, but he can feel when he pulls his hips back then pushes in further. Matt whines. “Okay, mostly you.” Mox leans in and pulls Matt’s hair back from his face. “Taking two at once like the best hole there is.”
Matt whines, dropping his head. “I wanna move,” he says, “I – but I can’t. I feel – this is –” He cuts off as Mox pulls just a little further back. “Oh, god, I can’t do anything.”
“Is that a good thing?” Adam asks. He glances down and Matt’s leaking like a broken faucet, still hard as a rock.
“It’s amazing,” Matt says, “like – like I have to – like I can’t – it’s up to you two.” Adam can tell he’s trying to say something else but can’t get the words out, so Adam twitches his hips just the tiniest bit and both Matt and Mox yelp.
“Goddamnit, Cowboy,” Mox growls. “Get your hips back on the bed.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Adam says, but he does, as slow as he can, settle his hips back down flat. Matt’s eyes roll back.
“I – Mox,” he says. “Move. Do – please?”
It’s not like how he’s used to it, with Matt. Mox keeps adding lube when he pulls out and it’s getting everywhere, and Matt’s hands stay on Adam’s chest, arms, stomach, bracing himself and digging in nails. It’s slow. It’s intentional. And it’s incredible.
“I’m so proud of you, Matty,” Adam murmurs, and he reaches down to stroke at Matt’s cock. “Look at you. I knew you could do it, but I didn’t – you’re so good at this.”
Matt’s eyes flutter shut at the praise. “Yeah, I knew I could, too.”
Mox snorts. “The fuck have I gotten myself into…”
“Matt, obviously,” Adam replies, stroking Matt with the end goal in sight.
Something about the phrase does it for Matt, and he comes with a whimper, quiet for the first time of his life, as he paints Adam’s chest and stomach. The way he clenches around Mox and Adam, tight and hot and – fuck. Adam’s not even done much, but he needs it.
“Matt, you okay if I…?”
“Yes,” Matt says to Mox. Adam feels like he’s being tormented, still and powerless as he waits.
Mox rolls his hips gently, the head of his cock catching against Adam’s, and Adam can barely handle it. It’s taking more restraint than he knew he had not to go wild. Instead, he swipes at the come on his chest and offers messy fingers to Matt, who takes them into his mouth eagerly.
“I hate how hot you two are,” Mox grumbles, voice tight. But then he grunts and Adam feels his dick pulse against his own as he gently, slowly, rocks his hips. The press against Adam’s dick, the feeling of Mox’s come next to him inside of Matt. He didn’t think he was that close, but, then again, there was once a time where he didn’t think he’d be with Matt again, either.
He closes his eyes and has to force his hips still. “I’m – oh, god, I can’t – I want to, but I can’t –”
“Are we accidentally edging you?” Matt giggles. He tilts his hips back and Adam feels Mox slip his softening dick out.
“Yes,” Adam answers. “Matty, please, I have to…” He can’t even speak. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he knows how close he is, how badly he needs to come.
“Are you begging me?” Matt asks, and Adam opens his eyes to see Matt on top of his, grinning and gleeful. “Is this a role reversal?”
Adam wraps an arm behind Matt’s back and flips them, slamming Matt to the mattress. His dick is painfully hard, he’s so close. “Can I fuck you?” he asks before sliding back into Matt. He knows Matt might be sore, sensitive, not able to do anything further. He hovers, as still as he can get himself. He knows he might have to find some other way to get off. But he has to. He can’t wait anymore.
“Please fuck me,” Matt says, eyes soft, and Adam dives back in.
He can feel Mox’s come around his cock like last time, easing the glide, and it’s over in seconds. He lets out a hoarse cry as he buries himself deep inside of Matt, adding to Mox’s mess, dropping down on shaking elbows.
He feels a hand on his back, calloused and huge. “Damn, man.”
Adam lifts his head. “Hmm?”
“That was some fucking wild restraint,” Mox says. He rolls to the side of the bed, laying next to Matt and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ve never seen anybody simultaneously out of his fucking mind and steady in my life.”
Adam shrugs, still breathing heavily. “Not gonna hurt him,” Adam mutters, dropping his head back down. It’s too much work to keep it up. “Never gonna hurt him again, if I can help it.”
Matt sighs and runs his fingers through Adam’s hair. “Love you, too.”
Mox groans. “How did double penetration turn fucking tender? I hate both of you.”
“You do not,” Adam says, and he finally can steady his muscles enough to pull out of Matt at the slowest pace possible, his cock stinging with oversensitivity. He falls to the side with open arms and Matt dives into them, clamoring onto Adam’s chest like an eager starfish. Mox scoots in to fill the space, lining his body against Adam’s.
“Hey,” Mox says. “You good?”
Adam nods, sleepy but sated. “Different than I expected. You’re a bitch even when your cock’s next to mine. I’m surprised.”
Mox shrugs. “Meeting the energy of the room, you could say.”
Matt lifts a weak arm and flips Mox off.
They lay like that, cozy and quiet, for some time. Adam finds his mind wiped, his body tired, and his anxiety gone. There’s not enough energy left in him to feel it. He trails fingers up and down Matt’s spine, knuckles along Mox’s chest. It’s almost too comfortable. He might need to find an excuse to do something like this again, just to reach this feeling afterwards where things feel this comfortably blank. He’ll start thinking up experiments when he has enough brain power to remember his own name.
When he hears little snuffles he thinks Matt’s fallen asleep, which would mean waking him up which is always unpleasant. He exchanges a little smile with Mox, who raises an eyebrow. Adam shrugs.
A few moments later, Matt finally stirs and sits up.
“So,” he says, smiling a little sleepy but with light in his eyes. “How do the two of you feel about spitroasting?”
“Can we recover from the first threesome first and then talk about the next one?” Adam asks, pulling Matt’s hair away from his face. “The king of one track minds, I swear.”
“There’s a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom,” Mox offers. “Speaking of recovery, you know.” He tucks some of Matt’s hair behind his ear, gentler than Adam expected. “You’re gonna be sore for a while, babe.”
Matt turns a little pinker.
“You just called him babe,” Adam says, and he hears laughter in his voice. “Be careful. That’s how the two of us ended up together the first time.”
Mox stands up and stretches. Adam’s no longer above watching that scarred, beautiful body as it moves, lean muscles under decorated skin. He figures fucking his boyfriend alongside Mox makes all boundaries disappear. “I’ll hear that story someday, I’m sure,” he mutters. “But let’s go check out that jacuzzi.”
~
Mini Playlist:
Greedy - Ariana Grande
3 - Britney Spears
FUCK - Snow Wife
Your Wish Is My Command - Kim Petras
#HangMatt#HangMoxMatt#Heheheheheheheheheh#scissormedaddyass#I hope you like it Vera!!!!!#wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes#anxious millennial dreamboat#Matt Attrackson#madly in love with leather daddy jon moxley
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i know it was a personal post, but can i ask if you'd be able to give an example of a fanon idea that needs more examining? i'm in the kpts fandom, but it's not something i've ever thought about with particular headcanons...
//looks at this ask like it’s a damn behemoth, especially considering I just spoke with a friend about this.
I’m gonna preface this answer with a disclaimer and say that I’m not here to act as fandom police, nor am I well-versed in Thai culture. I’m not Thai, I’m Filipino. The two cultures are very distinct and different, but there are shared cultural norms, since Thailand and the Philippines are considered part of the SE Asia region.
Play in the fandom as what makes you happy, my dear anon. I’m not here to ruin your fun, I’m just here in my own little sandbox to play with these blorbos with a few select people I’ve come to know as friends.
Having said that, let’s begin with a fanon idea that I'm gonna dissect for you.
There’s a particular fanon idea that Porsche would have been enthusiastically open to having the sex talk with Chay, since Porsche himself is a proud whore (affectionate).
And the sentiments behind that headcanon—for what it’s worth—is nice. I’m definitely for the idea that sex education needs to be more readily available, so that the masses are properly armed with the tools and knowledge they need to live a healthy, sexual life, in whatever form that may be.
Be that as it may, there are a couple of factors that that fanon idea is most likely not taking into account.
And again, just to be clear: I'm not against the idea that Chay knows a lot about sex. What I have issues with is the framing of how he would come to know about sex, his sexual identity, etc. and the cultural context that would surround that situation.
1.) Does the HC take into account that, like most if not all Asian countries, Thailand is a high-context culture? In other words, not just the words being spoken, but body language, tone, gestures, social position, etc.—all these things factor in to what would be a sensitive conversation like the sex talk and is mutually understood between both parties, most times; it’s not something that’s easily translatable, yknow? Due to this, you could ask yourself: Porsche is a sexy slut, but would he deal with Chay as a sibling who casually sleeps around (as an equal), or as an older brother and parent who knows he has the responsibility of keeping Chay happy, safe, fed, and clothed (as one in a position of higher authority)?
2.) Does the HC take into account that, like most Asian countries, talking about sex openly in Thailand is still considered somewhat taboo? Be that as it may, culture is never static. It’s a bit better now with the availability of the internet and the younger generation’s more open mindedness, but it’s still nowhere near as the west’s general social fabric that contains within it something akin to ‘the talk’ for the parents once their kids are of age to talk about that sort of thing. The topic of sex tends to be more easily spoken of and discussed with amongst equal peers, so in which case, I can actually see Chay being more comfortable talking about sex with his friends (Ohm, and even Kim), rather than Porsche.
3) Finally, does the HC take into account that one of SE Asia’s shared cultural norms is the general collective’s mutual goal of trying to maintain social harmony? That to speak openly of sex, to talk about it “enthusiastically” to the point that comedic examples like the cucumber are used, would be seen more as disruptive than anything else? In my opinion, if Porsche were to even talk about sex with Chay, he’d be more likely to point Chay towards books as sources of reliable information, rather than give a crude visual aid. Lol
From my own experience anon, it's much easier to disregard the cultural context of a show like KPTS, because it has the optics of a western tv show: the business suits, the fancy cars, the high rise-buildings. Compared that to a show like The Untamed or a movie like ManSuang, where fans are much more aware to be mindful of the cultural context, because it's set in a historical setting (although in The Untamed, it's more fantasy than anything).
The HC we talked about is harmless enough, yes. But having said that, you now have to ask yourself: is it appropriate and acceptable to disregard the cultural context of KPTS, just because it has the optics of a western tv show?
And frankly, that's something you need to figure out and find the answer for yourself.
So, there you have it. Am I stopping people from having fun with HCs such as the one I talked about? Hell no; fly free, little bird. Do whatever makes you happy in this fandom, and I will do the same.
Is the HC I talked about something I can enjoy as an enjoyer of KPTS and would interact with? Hell no, because said HC is also ignorant in a lot of different ways, and I like playing with my blorbos as accurate as they are in the original show, and in the cultural context I understand the show in.
And this take on Porsche’s character, plus the cultural context I have as an Asian, is not something that matches up at all.
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eternals ramblings from my rewatch today:
EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. ikaris makes an entrance he is accompanied by a huge swell of music, often the eternals theme, to the point where it almost feels like his theme. something to be said here about how he believes himself to be more Eternal than the rest
our first sight of sprite in modern era being her clearly trying to hook up with a guy but the moment he touches her the illusion breaks and she has to go - i cannot believe the pain of living for MILLENNIA in a child’s body she never got to do human things like romance or puberty or whatever
when they first go to earth sersi looks to ajak AND THEN IKARIS for reassurance/permission before going to make contact with the human kid
watching sprite’s London convo with sersi knowing that she’s in love w ikaris and jealous of sersi hits different. she told sersi to move in with dane. it could be sweet, it could be a ploy to push sersi and ikaris further apart, it could be both bc family relationships are difficult like that and sprite clearly loves sersi even though she’s ‘always envied’ her
sersi TURNED THE GROUND INTO QUICKSAND to fight a deviant this is a big deal to me because i wrote a ton of speculation fic based on the trailers before the movie came out and i had her do exactly the same thing in a fight scene - not to toot my own horn but im impressed at how much i managed to extrapolate correctly just from the teasers
i CAN ACTUALLY TELL WHAT MAKKARI IS SAYING OH MY GOD I COULDN’T TELL THE FIRST TIME BECAUSE I WAS WATCHING A SHITTY PIRATED VERSION THAT DIDN’T SUBTITLE HER SIGNING
makkari’s last line is ‘the truth will set them free’. this is a bible verse. i don’t know if it’s intentional but they’re quoting jesus
sersi is such a jesus character to me. treats sprite and ikaris with love even though they hurt her massively
sprite is one of the most storytellers actually (gilgamesh did all these epic things. one day you and your people will sail around the world and make your own legends!)
how does ikaris know how to woo. did he watch the humans and learn from them?
related: i think it’s super cute how he just. makes his regard for sersi clear by following her around everywhere like a puppy
thenamesh are just clintasha 2.0 (though to be fair it is fanon clintasha. but the him trying to stop her from attacking everyone and loving and protecting her even though she’s clearly unstable? screams clintasha)
i was so touched by sprite helping thena break out of the flashback by showing her illusions of her past like it works SO well
they should all have just stayed together. kingo was right. they should all have stayed together. they hurt each other but they also know how to help each other
touched by kingo’s loyalty to ikaris. man respected and loved his leader so much
also ‘i like watching him too’??? kingo darling sprite’s not the only one in love w ikaris
why is everyone in love with ikaris really if he betrayed them in the end
‘are you going to charm me or threaten me’? that’s probably why. he’s a leader. he’s the strongest one. he knows how to be charismatic and how to be firm, keep the peace, et cetera. half of them love him and the other half are wary of, even maybe jealous of him
it’s really interesting to me how druig listens to and respects sersi even though he hates ikaris’ guts. he obviously doesn’t see them as a unit.
in fact everyone’s feelings towards each other are really intriguing i should chart a family tree but instead of ‘birthed’ and ‘married’ lines its ‘loves’ ‘hates’ ‘envies’ etc
the way sersi whisper shouts at ikaris and tries to pull him away they were both staring at jack and phastos but she knows it’s rude he doesn’t he’s just staring openly until she reminds him
the way he SNATCHES THE BOOK FROM HER
phastos’ husband speaking arabic to him. karun speaking in hindi to the eternals. whenever anyone speaks in babylonian. i love the usage of foreign languages in english media and eternals does it so much and so well
the way makkari smiles at everyone and signs ‘ready to go home?’ when they come back to the domo hit me like a TON of BRICKS. she was the last one to find out. goddamn. i can’t imagine the existential crises they were all collectively going through no WONDER tempers were high no WONDER they fought
related: i’m sure they said a lot of things they didn’t mean especially phastos. ‘i’ve always wanted to clip your wings, ikaris’ doesn’t mean he actively hated ikaris the entire time. it’s just like you know when you find out someone did something shitty and your reflex response is to go ‘i ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE THAT KIND OF PERSON! YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THIS KIND OF PERSON!’ because memory bias you remember the shitty things more than the good things. same with ‘you did always underestimate [sersi]’. did ikaris really?? or did he live and fight with and watch and love her for five thousand years and conclude, like the rest of the others, like sersi herself, that sersi’s powers only go so far? her powers didn’t begin changing until she was selected as prime eternal. if ikaris underestimated sersi so did everyone including sersi herself.
my take on why ikaris did what he did - he wanted to believe that his previous actions were justified/had a purpose. he lied to everyone, he left his wife, he told no one the truth for years because ajak had him convinced that his life’s purpose was to serve the mission. and then ajak calls off the mission at the last moment. he didn’t want to believe that he had hurt other people, had hurt himself, for no reason. he couldn’t accept that his suffering was for nothing. he had to go through with the emergence because otherwise none of it mattered. and he couldn’t deal with that. ikaris i can tell isn’t good at dealing with the fact that he makes mistakes. he told sersi he was sorry and then flew headfirst into the sun. he smacks of eldest child syndrome AND gifted kid depression.
ok for real this is the last bullet point. the writing was questionable. the editing was bad. the characters weren’t given enough establishing time - it was a bad idea to do such a huge story in movie format (it should have been a tv show). that said the actors put their whole actussy into this and you can tell chloe zhao tried her utmost best. it’s not a great movie but i still love it because i love this huge unconventional, complex family
#eternals#eternals 2021#eternal spoilers#ikaris#sersi#thena#druig#ajak#sprite#makkari#gilgamesh#kingo#phastos
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Little awkward question but you think Harry and Ginny had sex in Hogwarts during HBP? Because many people saying that and some saying Ginny lost hers with Dean. I was so mad when heard and think both are unreal and nonsense. What's your thoughts on this?
Ok, I'm going to answer to this one and I'm going to be very professional about it.
I can do it. I'm old enough.
Let's go in order.
Did Ginny sleep with Dean?
I know that there are people who say this, none of them are very well-versed in these books and especially in Ginny's character, but I think they say it because they think that believing the opposite would be naive or something of the sort.
When I was Ginny's age I had two friends who both had been with their respecting boyfriends for a year. One had done all that one can do and the other had never yet felt ready to do anything of relevance.
When you are fifteen being in a relationship for some months doesn't really mean automatically anything, and whatever Ginny hypothetically did or didn't do would absolutely be her own business. But seeing that we need to find an answer let's examine her personality and relationship with Dean.
Ginny has an enormous trauma linked to opening up to someone she shouldn't have trusted. She doesn't trust easily and she is very guarded as a person.
She gives importance to touch. Harry and Ginny share a love language that is mainly based on looks and touches. For her physical affection bears meaning.
She is a romantic. Ginny's character is based on the combination between a quite harsh side and a very sweet one. A lot of people like to ignore this, because apparently a woman having a full spectrum of emotions is too much for their brains, but Ginny can be very sweet. She is in love with the legend of a hero, she writes love poems, she makes singing get-well cards, she decorates lavishly her house for Christmas, she goes around with a purple pigmy puff, and more importantly, she never really gave up on Harry.
Now her relationship with Dean. It seems to be better than the one with Michael but the good days don't last that much. They got together at the end of her fourth year and didn't see each other for a whole summer, so they basically started dating in September, by Christmas they were already having problems. And in regards to physical touch, there's never any indication of Ginny being particularly affectionate with Dean outside the snogging context and she seems unnerved by the small gestures she's instead so comfortable within her relationship with Harry.
In conclusion, Ginny didn't sleep with Dean. Shocking revelation, I know.
It's made pretty clear in the books that Harry is the one person she allows to break into her emotional sphere something that is also reflected in how she is way more comfortable when touch comes from him rather than Dean. She is also a romantic, someone who would give value to her first time. When you consider all this, combined with the fact that she never gave up on Harry, the answer is clear. It's not like she was 25 and worried she would die a virgin with a hundred cats. She not only would've wanted her first time to be with Harry but he also was the only one she would've been comfortable enough with.
Did Harry and Ginny sleep together in HBP?
JKR is a great writer from several points of view but world buildings and timelines are definitely not her strong suit.
There's a bit of a problem when it comes down to understanding how long Harry and Ginny dated in HBP. The match should be on the 10th of May, or even if not precisely that day, it was still the start of May and from DH we know that Dumbledore died on the 30th of June. This would mean that they dated for more or less seven weeks.
But Harry talks about a few weeks in the break-up scene. Now, I'm not an English native speaker but when I read "few weeks" my brain understands something like three, maybe four weeks? Seeing the context maybe we can interpret it as simply Harry saying that it was not enough, or maybe it just sounded more poetic that "not even two months"?
Anyway, depending on how we want to settle this problem we can discuss how further they went but they didn't sleep together. There's no way in hell that these two would ever do that before saying "I love you", which we know didn't happen. But more importantly, if we read the scene of the kiss from DH, Harry says she was kissing him like never before, if they had sex I doubt he would've said that.
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“ When is it over? ”
── 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 ──
DEAD BY DAYLIGHT VERSE
Verdant ribbons formed a sea around the two of them - providing a rather quiet space for both to get lost in the endless expanse above; it was a sea of black ink to Robin, swirling and churning within the brine pool of his mind. He had heard of this feeling once before, perhaps he read it in a book, maybe his mother read it to him when he was a boy - no. No no. That was far from appropriate for a boy ... But then again, when had life ever given him time to simply be a child? Simply exist? Ah what was it called again? The nails of his conscious peeled back the fogged layers of his brain to peer back into the past, digging deep before the corpses, before the blood ...
L'appel du vide.
That dreaded urge to fling oneself from a cliff's edge, to rush into the deepest outreach of the woods and vanish into the air - to drown in a nearby lake reflecting the sky over its still surface. The moonlight would look beautiful rippling, to leave it still would be cruel - to disrupt that eerie calm with chaos. Each sufacing bubble containing the last of his life essence, and what was there to life but bitterness and dread? Robin's lips curled downwards in a scowl, the sneer of his wrinkled nose a clear signal of his pure disgust and disdain for whatever thoughts danced in his head. Everybody uses you, and then you die. All of life is unfair - a miserable speck of light between each swelling abyss - the body, once a proud vessel, becomes nothing but fly-swarmed carrion picked apart by the basest of creatures. The fate of man was the same as every pest that walked this wretched Earth, every ─
“When is it over?”
Creases formed between his brows at the inquiry, although it was quick to fade away in return to his usual neutral stare; those deep selenic orbs staring into nothing as the words settled in his head. Well - perhaps not the words themselves but the tone in which they were spoken, in all of his time within the Fog he had never heard the spectre hold such emotion in it's distorted voice. That part was usually tucked away cleanly, below in darkness too thick for any to peer through. Maybe that is why the question reverberated through his core; like a match lit by the friction of his rib cage - a warmth spread in his chest and along his veins. Humans were always so predicatable, he mused - although he found himself disgruntled at the way he still chased after human companionship. It was intoxicating. Addictive even - and he sprinted after it even now when he was so far from home and in a place weaved by an Elditch horror:
Their cocoon. Their grave.
"It never does. The only release that anyone has in this world is death, we weep in the space between oblivions - but before us ... and after us - well, it's quiet. It's almost too intimate to describe, the suffering of our time alive cannot be compared to the glory that is revealed after. The last chapter in time, but the first chapter in eternity." A sigh left him, uncertain in his willingness to confess such private thoughts, "But we cannot help our nature to desperately cling to life, to dangle by the edge of a cliff by our claws, even with the promise of Heaven after. I imagined it so many times what it would be like to have God all to myself - that everything was worth it - but he ne'er came. Not for me ... But, what I received instead was so beautiful ... Ah ... To lie in the soft brown dirt while the wind took away the last whispers of my name, blissfully unaware of how I was picked and chewed away. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow."
Robin took a moment's pause while he surveyed the space around him, the hazy mist a blanket above their resting forms, "The world and its people will move on and forward, and of my sentience was gone. Just as it didn't exist before me." He glanced to the spectre once more but instead to turn back to the night sky above - only now did he notice the lack of silver luster. "I find it ironic that we plead and fight for pain to return, we're addicted to it - humans are a hopeless species - even someone like me yearned and forced that radiant lifeforce to light inside of me once more. As though it were some awful waste for me to die, and miraculously my body managed to wake up from its silence. Now I am doomed to watch as the ones by the fire cling and claw back to this wretched state of being - they never listen to me when I tell them that isn't worth the fight. Death is the mother of beauty after all, perishable things are the only things possible of being lovely, we're unmoved by anything else. Maybe that is why we cling, we want our corpses to be considered worthwhile- Haha ─ "
Pale fingers slid into the soil at his sides, its cool gravel like the embrace of an old friend - calling his name never to receive a satisfactory answer of why he was not buried deep below into the Earth's bosom. Why had he been brought back?
"Humans are such troublesome company but you ... I think I've taken a liking to you - if you can believe it. I am sure that answer was not entirely kind to you and I apologize, not for my honesty but for the cruel manner of the natural world. Even then, I don't think you want an apology for it; you revel in it, don't you? You feel the same way Death should have its way, absorbing us with its relentless consumption, there is only meaning to the suffering in the peace that comes after. It is uncommon to find a kindred spirit ... or at least one that I can stand to be around; I think I may even begin to like you more as the days - if you can call them that- pass. You get it. Perhaps, in moments like that, like this - where the world means nothing and only silence fills our ears, perhaps this is a small blip of relief. Perhaps it is over ... for now."
#ℝ𝕆𝔹𝕀ℕ 𝔸. 𝔹𝔸𝕌𝔻𝔼𝕃𝔸𝕀ℝ𝔼 ... 【 ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ-ᴇʏᴇᴅ ᴍᴀɢᴇ 】#ic#rp#verse: dead by daylight#mxlevolence#death mention tw#suicidal ideation tw#“A Touch of Night” c’:
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OF COURSE || Elliott x Harvey & Elliott x Alex
RATING: Explicit 18+ obviously
PAIRING: TRANS ELLIOT x Harvey (1st) & TRANS ELLIOT x Alex (2nd)
TAGS: KINKTOBER 2022 DAY 10 VOYEURISM, TRANS ELLIOTT, piv sex, creampie, they’re married, alex is in college, elliott and harvey are ~30 alex is 25, looks like cheating, jerkin it to other people havin sex :), nipple play, degradation, (genitalia = pussy & tits), hand job
WORDS: 3155
SUMMARY:
It was quiet but he could hear him plain as day say, “Oh, fuck.” Well, he wasn’t really talking, he was very clearly moaning. But he didn’t sound like he was in pain. He shuffled back against the wall and looked into the window in the door. He hoped he wouldn’t be seen as he was, he knew damn well he really should leave, but he just couldn’t help himself. Alex bit his lip as he got a clear view. Elliott was...
(for sukipuppy/puppysuki's kinktober day 10: voyeurism)
a/n: will be continued for day 23 and day 31 even if it doesn’t come out that day
READ ON AO3
OR
Alex was hardly an academic—that much was obvious to anyone who knew him. But he usually got by well enough, until college came around, at least. Suddenly he found himself struggling to maintain the required 2.0 grade point average he needed in order to participate in his beloved gridball. With his grades drifting below that point, he was under pressure from the university, his coach, and his team to pull his act together. Which was an ego boost fit to balance out the hit his would take in needing a tutor at all. But anything for the star quarterback, right?
Eventually he found himself the help he needed in Pelican Town’s own hermit, Elliott. But it would seem that while he was away at college (and generally not paying any attention to him), the redhead was no longer a hermit at all! Indeed, he was not only a published author but a husband to the town’s doctor! How his grandmother had managed to leave out that piece of town gossip on their monthly phone calls he’d never know.
Gossip aside, Elliott was the only one of the two people in town that could fill the role Alex set out that had the free time to do it. His husband, Harvey being the only other option; but he of course was busier and even weirder than Elliott so Alex preferred the latter anyway. The author also thought that adding ‘local tutor’ to his book jackets might make him seem humbler and his writing more appealing.
So, every week Alex took the bus back into the valley and made his way to the doctor’s office and into the apartment above. There Elliott would always be waiting for him, ready to start whatever lesson he needed help with. Alex’s worst subject had always been English, as he’d found it boring. But he’d be lying if he said that applied to Elliott’s lessons. He was so engrossed and well-versed in whatever they were covering that he managed to make in interesting enough for Alex to pay attention. His improving grades were evidence of that fact. It certainly helped that Elliott was attractive, of course.
Alex would never admit it aloud, but Elliott was one of the most attractive men he’d ever known. That much was true even before he’d left for college, and played a role in how much of an effort he’d made to ignore him. He knew that he didn’t have much of chance with the older man so he left him be. Though now of course he had come to regret that, the bastard having married the biggest loser in town. Maybe that was unfair to the doctor, he was kind and well intentioned, obviously not making very much money as such a small-town doctor but continuing to remain and treat his patients regardless, instead of following the money elsewhere. But that hardly mattered to Alex, there were, like, fifteen other redheads in town he could’ve chosen to spend his life with, but oh no, he had to choose the only one that Alex liked!
Seedier parts of him told him to try to seduce Elliott so that he could have the older man for himself. Even seedier parts of him told him it wouldn’t be very hard considering the way his beloved always dressed when he came to his tutoring sessions. His questioning of his scantly glad teacher was brushed off with the insistence that the silk robes he always wore—that barely covered his ass, mind you—were his ‘house clothes’ that he wore around the house to be more comfortable. While Alex truly did understand that Elliott had the right to wear whatever he wanted to in his own home, he couldn’t help but question if that was truly his daily attire. He couldn’t comprehend the dweeb he called a husband being able to keep himself together around such a gorgeous man. He’d probably get sweaty and red in the face and walk around with a hard on all the time. Alex, on the other hand, was calm, cool, and collected around Elliott. He let his attraction to him to be known when he flirted with the redhead, but only after he started it. The sexpot flirted with him regularly, too!
Alex was cautious about getting caught up with a married man, of course, but he wasn’t caught up with him, even! They were just friends! And it was nice to have an older friend that could add some perspective to his life. They’d grown close as the semester went on, and he’d even come out to Alex as trans! Alex didn’t know what that meant and promptly looked it up after he left, but he came to understand how much Elliott trusted him when he figured it out. He found himself caring only as much as he thought he ought to—Elliott was the same man he’d known before, after all. He figured it was probably better for Elliott that way, there was a distinct lack of awkwardness and only a deeper understanding of his friend. He asked bluntly if Harvey treated him well in that aspect. As much as it irked him to hear how much the two loved each other, he was relieved to hear Elliott gush about Harvey’s kindness and understanding.
Despite cluing Alex in on how much he loved his husband, Elliott continued to flirt with him. Every time that Alex came to the sessions, he wondered if they were finally going to cross the line from flirting and lingering touches and devious looks to kissing or even more than that. He started to wonder if Elliott was allowed to step out of their marriage, but he shook away the thought, knowing that he just wanted that to be true.
Alex pulled himself together and stepped off of the bus. He’d gotten a bit turned around with all the thoughts of Elliott in his head competing for space and he’d gotten on the bus route before the one he was supposed to be on. He wasn’t sure how he’d lost track of time in reverse, but he was there now. He tried to make himself busy as he was far too early to show up at his appointment. He visited his grandparents, went to Pierre’s to grab a drink, and even the library to waste time.
Eventually he decided that twenty minutes early was the best he could do as he was bored out of his mind. Walked into the clinic, the door was unlocked and the lights were on, but he didn’t notice the doctor anywhere. He carefully walked up the stairs, trying to be quiet in case one of them was sleeping or something. As he was about to raise his fist to knock at the doors, he heard Elliott’s voice inside. It was quiet but he could hear him plain as day say, “Oh, fuck.” Well, he wasn’t really talking, he was very clearly moaning. But he didn’t sound like he was in pain.
He shuffled back against the wall and looked into the window in the door. He hoped he wouldn’t be seen as he was, he knew damn well he really should leave, but he just couldn’t help himself. Alex bit his lip as he got a clear view. Elliott was bent over the kitchen counter, his little robe pushed up over his ass, and his underwear around his ankles. His chest was flat to the countertop and his nails tried to scratch into the surface, his face turned the opposite way from where Alex was, obviously looking up at Harvey, who was fucking him senseless. Alex didn’t think he had it in him! He was very surprised to see the doctor half-way composed, his dress shirt pulled up slightly and his pants and boxers pulled down just enough to be able to get his cock into Elliott. The dweeb still had his glasses on but he figured that would be the only way he could see what he was doing.
Alex scanned them both and neither of them seemed to notice him, so he relaxed a little. He shuffled as close to the wall as he could and just stood there, watching. His cock ached in his pants and his heart ached with jealousy, as Elliott never stopped making those sweet little noises, and seemed to be quite enjoying the way his husband was fucking him. Alex was sure that he could fuck him much better than Harvey was! His cock was probably bigger too.
He focused on Elliott exclusively, he twitched in his pants as he watched his ass bounce with every one of Harvey’s thrusts, his body lurching forward with how hard he was getting fucked. Alex desperately wanted to pull out his cock and jerk himself to Elliott’s moans and cries for ‘more’, but he didn’t want to get caught with pants down, literally.
His fears were legitimized as he watched Elliott get pounded in the same spot over and over again. His back arched and he held onto the counter for dear life. He looked back at Harvey and cried for him. Alex couldn’t believe it, he was going to cum. That bastard was going to make his Elliott cum all over him. The only thing that even remotely made up for it was that he got to watch. He watched as Elliott’s legs shook, and the thrusts slowed, and Harvey dug his fingertips into his hips as he finally came. Elliott’s entire body shook as his orgasm washed over him, and he was pretty sure he saw his eyes roll back into his head.
He watched as Harvey obviously pulled out, rubbing up against Elliott with his cock. He’d bet all he had that Elliott was just as handsome down south as he was every where else. Just as Alex was getting ready to leave, and sit back downstairs so that they wouldn’t know he’d watched them, he saw Harvey run his fingers through Elliott’s beautiful hair and then he nodded. To his horror Harvey put his cock back into Elliott. And he wasn’t just doing so that he could cum inside of Elliott. He started off slow. He was going to make Elliott cum again.
Alex couldn’t take it anymore. He needed Elliott. He pulled out his cock and spit in his hand as quietly as he could. He wasn’t going to get to have Elliott, so watching him get fucked would have to do for now. He jerked his cock quickly. He kept his jaw shut tight and didn’t make a sound, but he jerked himself as hard as he could manage. He needed to cum. Everything would fall into place after that. Then he would have a clear head and he could react normally to things concerning Elliott again.
He held his breath as Elliott turned towards him. For a second he was sure that they’d locked eyes. But Elliott laid down on the countertop just as he had before and Alex ignored the thought. He didn’t have it in him to care quite honestly. He watched as he got fucked harder and faster and deeper whenever he begged for it. He jerked himself in time with Harvey’s thrusts, imagining he was the one fucking him. He was the only one here that deserved to be fucking Elliott, of course. He kept jerking even when he was sure that Elliott probably saw him. He kept jerking as Elliott neared another orgasm. He kept jerking even though he was burning with jealousy. He kept jerking as Elliott came. He kept jerking as Harvey came inside of Elliott. Finally, Alex came into an old tissue he had in his pocket as he ached for Elliott and watched his husband pull out of him. He took satisfaction in the fact that he came after Harvey.
He waited until they retreated into the bathroom to flee back downstairs, cleaning himself up with some tissues from Harvey’s desk. He threw them into his personal trashcan, almost hoping he’d see them.
Alex took his usual position in the waiting room. That’s were he’d usually sit if he showed up and Harvey wasn’t in the clinic. He didn’t know what made him deviate from that today, but he was glad that he did.
He sat in his chair and waited. Eventually Harvey came down the stairs and greeted him, giving him the go ahead to venture upstairs. He was clearly freshly showered.
When he got upstairs, everything went the way it always did. Elliott tutored him in English, Alex learned something efficiently and effectively. All was well. Elliott’s hand drifted up and down his thigh, all was not well. He was too sensitive this time. He grew hard, quickly. He hoped he wouldn’t notice but he was pretty sure that there was no way Elliott hadn’t seen. They finished up the session early, and Alex was desperate to leave. But Elliott wanted to talk. He’d do anything for Elliott.
They made small talk for a while. Eventually one of Elliott’s arms was across the back of the couch, and the other sliding a hand up and down his thigh. Up and down. Up and down. He was such a tease. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Alex’s heart pounded. “What show?”
Up and down. Up and down. Further up and down. “Earlier?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His hand stopped at the top of his inner thigh. He twitched. “You don’t?”
Alex shook his head. “You don’t remember watching my husband fuck me?”
His heart pounded. Elliott cupped his hand over his clothed cock. Deny, deny, deny! He shook his head again.
Elliott leaned in closer and rubbed up and down his shaft over top of his pants. Up and down. Up and down. “You don’t remember standing at my door and jerking your perverted little cock while my husband fucked me?”
Alex shook his head. Elliott pressed down a little harder. “Then you won’t care when I tell Harvey then, right? Because you weren’t doing anything?”
His breath caught in his throat. If Harvey found out he’d kick Alex out. Alex would fail. Alex would get kicked off the gridball team. He calls his bluff. He turns to face Elliott. “If you were gonna tell him, why haven’t you yet?”
Elliott is focusing on just his head now, rubbing it with his thumb. Alex thinks he might die like this. He gives Alex a look that would convince any man to let Elliott do whatever he wanted to them. “Why would I do that to him? Have him worry about your spoiled rotten perverted punk ass while he’s at work all day?” He rubs him harder and gets closer. “Do you think that’s fair to him?”
Alex shakes his head. Elliott pulls his cock out of his pants. He jerks him slow, his precum providing plenty of lubrication. “No, it’s not fair, is it? For you to make something so normal into something so perverted. All Harvey wanted to do was shove his fat cock into his husband’s tight little pussy like he does everyday before work. And you had to come and jerk off in the window.”
His cock ached so desperately that his eyes began to water. Elliott snickered. “Oh, you want to cry now? Come here come cry on my chest since you want to be a baby.” He kept jerking him, but used his other hand to guide Alex’s head to his chest.
Elliott leaned back and Alex huddled up to him, trying not to look down his robe. He jerked Alex just fast enough to keep him hard, but just slow enough to keep him from getting off. Inevitably, Alex looked down his robe. His cock throbbed at the sight of Elliott’s little pink nipples through his tank top. He laughed at him again. He pushed him off his chest pulled up his shirt, revealing himself to Alex. Elliott let his robe slide down his shoulders so that Alex could have a better view. He couldn’t help but look.
He groped himself with his free hand. “Come suck on ‘em. After all that you’ve done today, the least you could do is make me cum.”
Alex gleefully obliged. Licking and sucking one nipple, playing with the other, then switching vice versa. Groping him gently as his tits were small in his big hands. He tried to ignore the hickeys on his tits as best he could. Elliott slid his fingers through Alex’s hair and jerked him a little faster. Alex sucked and groped him harder. Elliott moaned. Alex’s cock poured precum, tears streaming down his face. He needed to make Elliott cum.
It didn’t take long before Elliott was jerking him fast and pulling on his hair. “I’m already so sensitive because Harvey’s fucked me so much today. You’re going to make me cum with just my tits because dirty little perverts like you don’t get to have pussy.”
Alex just hummed around his mouthful. “You’re a filthy fucking pervert, aren’t you?”
Alex nodded. He could feel Elliott tensing up. He was going to make Elliott cum. His orgasm was rising quickly as well.
Elliott clasped his hand over his mouth as he came, trying to keep himself quiet. Alex wanted to touch him more and help him ease through his orgasm but he didn’t dare. He just moved with the flows of Elliott’s quaking body, both to keep from knocking his teeth out and to keep from biting the redhead.
As Elliott eased down, Alex got closer and closer to the edge. His head was on Elliott’s chest and he gasped and moaned as he kept jerking him. “I’m gonna cum!” He whimpered.
Right as his orgasm was about to rush over him, Elliott curled his two middle fingers behind his thumb, and he flicked the head of Alex’s cock as hard as he could. He did it a second time for good measure. The action immediately killed his boner. His cock was completely flaccid.
Elliott pushed him off and licked his precum off of one of his fingers. He got up and left, going to the bathroom to wash his hands. He returned and changed his underwear in front of the still gasping Alex. He got a small glimpse of Harvey’s cum leaking out of Elliott before he pulled his underwear all the way up, but it wasn’t enough to reinvigorate his cock.
Elliott grabbed a couple of tissues out of a box on the dresser in front of him and used them to put Alex’s cock back in his pants. He snickered at the confused look on his face. “No one said that you were going to cum.”
He rubbed Alex’s chest. “But maybe if you can manage to conduct yourself with a little decorum, we can discuss that.”
#sdv#sdv elliott#sdv alex#sdv harvey#sdv fanfic#sdv smut#stardew valley#stardew valley elliott#stardew valley alex#stardew valley harvey#stardew valley fanfic#stardew valley smut#smut#ao3#fanfic#kinktober#kinktober 2022
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Name: Angel Benjamin Cresswell
Gender: Male
Age: 19-22 (verse dependant)
Sexuality: Bisexual
Ethnicity: British
Height: 5'9"
Skin: White
Eyes: Dark blue
Hair: Dirty blonde, dyed black, sides shaved, often styles in a mohawk, reaches shoulders with a slight curl when not straightened and spiked up
Piercings: Stretched both lobes, several asymmetric piercings on the cartlidge of both ears
Tattoos: None currently
Verses: Main | Stranger Things | Vampire
Verses
Main
Angel comes from the British Countryside, his family aren't well off but he had a comfortable life, however in his teens he got involved with a group of teens from the local punk scene and started messing with the occult. He wasn't sure if he believed in any of it, his family were heavily Christian but he himself wasn't sure what he believed in, and so he didn't have as much hesitation as he probably should have.
The group were hanging out in an abandoned mill playing with a spirit board, something went wrong, the details of the night are still a fuzzy blur but what he does know is the youngest member of the group was no longer with them. He was cleared of charges but the local community labelled him as the cause due to being the eldest, accused of sacrificing the girl to the devil.
In an attempt to help their son not only get away from the accusations, but in hopes that he would turn to God if he was with his grandparents, they shipped him off to live with his grandparents.
Stranger Things
Same as main but his grandparents live in Hawkins.
Vampire
Same as main but on the night of the event it was a vampire that found the group, killing the girl and turning him, he was then shipped off by his parents to live with his grandparents. He is able to go out in daylight but the more exposure he has to sunlight the more it hurts, eventually it'll begin leaving marks on his body, he needs to feed to counteract these effects, think of it like a health bar, the sunlight slowly drains the hp and blood refills it.
Headcanons
Angel's middle name is his grandfather's name.
He absolutely adores his grandparents and was more than okay with moving in with them.
Angel wanted a motorcycle for the longest time, he was able to buy a scrap bike from a scrap guy his grandparents knew through their garage. He harvested whatever he could from the other bikes available with permission from the scrap guy and has been reading books on bike and is working on fixing the bike, essentially rebuilding it and getting it running, it's still a work in progress but nearing the end.
Angel 100% believes aliens are real.
Angel has braces.
#musings || it beats farm life#wardrobe || you can't wash crust pants#usfw || let me show you how us country punks ride#headcanon || how about a fun fact
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*also i really really wish there was more stuff in the game with alan and casey (either real world casey or dark place casey) interacting* <- LITERALLY SAME‼️‼️ I had to scramble for footage for this edit but this whole concept is so intriguing to me and I wish we had a whole DLC with them (also thank you for nice tags under the rb ur too kind🫡)
(yes ofc, your graphics go so hard i love them!) and YES, it's such a wild concept to me especially because like. ok lemme put this under a cut for big-time alan wake 2 spoilers but also i kind of word-vomited a lot of percolating thoughts on the game, LOL oops
so for maybe 75% of the game i was CERTAIN that i had the game's twists Figured Out by the end of chapter 1, and i was sure that one of those twists was gonna be "fbi agent casey is 1:1 the same person as the fictional detective casey that alan's books are about, or even if he's not, agent casey was still created wholesale by alan as part of the overarching scheme to get saga to bright falls and have her assume the role of 'hero' in getting him out of the dark place". (this was part of my overarching idea re: saga's storyline which was that the version of events where saga lived in watery and logan drowned was the "true" reality, and alan rewrote her life/memories basically to "make" her into a better/less traumatized hero figure, and also get rid of stuff that would prevent her from wanting to go "back" to bright falls)
so like, at first i felt kind of "meh" about the reveal that fbi agent casey is the "real"/original/whatever version and fictional detective casey arose from alan using echoes of his life as writing material (compounded with the game making it pretty clear that alan can't wholesale make/create new stuff, just rewrite or guide what's already "real", and the seemingly straightforward reveal that saga's remembered version of events is "real" because she's immune to retcon bullshit). but the more i think about it the more i actually think it works really well and if anything is a much more interesting take on the trope of "fictional character and their creator interact/come into conflict"?
like, rather than the usual angst of "oh my god, am i real, is anything in my life real, does anything i do matter when my life is a fictional narrative", you get the more interesting flavors of inner drama both from casey (i.e. "i am a real person, but exactly how much of my memories and life can i trust, how much might have been twisted or rewritten by an outside hand to make a better story, could my past mistakes/regrets be erased, have they already been?") and also more importantly alan (i.e. "holy shit i've been taking Actual Real People and treating them like paper dolls to cut up and rearrange however i want to make a good story out of it")
plus by establishing that alan can't just make shit exist + nobody in the story is a made-up creation (well, i mean. within the narrative nobody is fictional, lol), it helps ground the story and characters and maintain your investment in their struggles and the stakes. and it also helps align the broader cosmology of the alan wake games with the wider remedy-verse by maintaining a baseline "reality" that presumably follows certain rules vis a vis the way objects of power and parautilitarian abilities work. like, the rules might be fucking weird, and we as players are probably getting only 20% of all the information because in-universe people know at most like, 40% of all the information, but it's clear that SOMEWHERE remedy has a bible of rules for How Their World Works so that they can keep things internally consistent across their games
with that all being said i also think they've left things open-ended enough that they can take a lot of these concepts in a bunch of directions simultaneously -- alan can still manifest/write up distorted funhouse mirror versions of "real" characters within the dark place who can yell at him for being a jackass or try to kill him or whatever, i wouldn't be surprised if one or both dlcs have further appearances of dark place casey and/or other "fictional" versions of casey written by alan, not to mention that real world fbi agent casey could easily get sucked into further metafictional alternate reality/narrative bullshit by virtue of how he got possessed by the dark presence (albeit briefly). like the only thing i'm for sure certain about is that remedy will probably keep finding new and exciting ways of pulling the rug out from under my feet, LOL
#armored-core6#ask#alan wake#alan wake 2 spoilers#alan wake 2#again sorry for the word vomit i am feeling so normal about these games <3 (lying)#also i just finished playing max payne 1 so it is FASCINATING to compare and contrast the approach to storytelling then vs now#like. this game would not exist as it does without “max you're in a computer game” and all those ideas first utilized in max payne#but now the way the metanarrative(s) are being set up carries a LOT more nuance and subtlety imo#that being said. if aw3 doesn't have as its climax alan briefly meeting Real Life Game Developer Sam Lake. i will be a little sad
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