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earthtooz · 1 year

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x : POCKY GAME ! :*+ﾟ

in which: you play the pocky game w/ various bllk boys!

warnings: gn!reader, ooc for some, fluff, lots of kissing, suggestive but not nsfw, 300-600 words depending on which blurb :p, the writing is better in some parts than others forgive me i was fighting for my life trying to get everything right >.<

a/n: if you enjoy pls like or reblog!!! okay sorry back to ur regularly scheduled content, but pls consider reblogging!!!!! have a lovely day !!!!

CONFIDENT AND COCKY. he’s the one who taunts you into it, placing the confectionary sweet between his teeth and staring at you mockingly, daring you to take the other end.

“c’mon, sweets. what’s the worst that could happen?” he jeers, sitting back in his seat. you scoff at his egotistical show. you can’t stand him, really, you can’t.

you curse that he knows this trait of yours: that you could never say no to a good challenge. you know that he’s got you cornered, unable to contain his smirk when you roll your eyes and latch on to the opposite end of the pocky. at least he was considerate enough to take the breadstick end for himself.

both of you ignore the way you step in between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders for stability before the game begins, but not without a wink sent your way first.

you hate his guts. he knows it, but he wants you so desperately it hurts.

he tries to contain his eagerness yet he can't stop his hands from snaking up to loosely hold your hips, fearing that this was just another daydream of his imagination. you, on the other hand, remain unrushed, taking your time and not falling for his bait.

you love watching him suffer, don’t you? pushing then pulling back when he gets too close, leaving him in a lovesick haze.

he loves that you know exactly what to do every time to send him spiralling.

after what feels like an eternity yet no time at all, his heart stutters at the gentle hover of your lips over his before going into overdrive when you press against him, leaving no biscuit or space untouched. with little control, he gives himself fully into the kiss, conveying every pent up feeling of desire that you leave brewing within him. he has longed for this moment for ages.

and somehow, you feel it. despite his playboy appearance, you can tell with this one kiss that he’s fully devoted himself to you. as ridiculous as the notion may sound, it's evident through the bruising embrace of his, the way he’s trying to commit your lips to memory, and the way that he's tilting his head to access more of you.

it’s enough to make your heart flutter.

but. you knew you couldn’t give in to his wants. not yet.

abruptly parting from him, he quietly whines at the loss of contact, frowning when you push his hands away with that pretty smirk of yours. so unabashed in rejecting him, aren’t you?

“you’ve gotta work harder next time, pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips before lowering your head to press a quick kiss against his neck. “i’m not that easy to impress, especially not with a stick of pocky.”

he watches longingly as you walk away, a new fire of determination burning in his veins.

oliver, KARASU, KAISER, SHIDOU, kunigami (after… yk)

DOUBTFUL BUT REALLY WANTS THIS. the party is in full swing, the bass of the music is buzzing through the speakers, groups of people are getting drunk, and you? well, you're playing a game for prepubescent teenagers.

“truth or dare?” one of the party goers asks the soccer player whom you’ve harbored feelings for for a while. your stomach flips in anticipation at which option he’ll choose.

his face twists into a split second of contemplation before the answer slips out of his mouth. “dare,” he answers confidently, returning the asker’s smug expression with one of his own.

“i dare you to play the pocky game with the person who you think is the most attractive in this room.”

everyone lets out a collective ‘ooo’ at the dare and you try to ignore the way your heart drops to your stomach, your nerves crawling all over you. the soccer player laughs before accepting it, catching the strawberry pocky box that is thrown in his direction.

who just casually has pocky as a party snack?

you don’t get to spend long dwelling on your query because your eyes suddenly lock with his and he stands up, never breaking eye contact as he walks over to where you sit.

the group erupts into cheers of encouragement when he bends down to be eye-level with you, holding the box of pocky in his hands with a small, shy smile. he was so cute- hold on. he thought you were the most attractive person in the room? oh my goodness, where you about the kiss the man you’ve been pining after for months?

“wanna play?” he asks, sounding a little uncertain.

the only response you can muster is a stupid nod, blissful expectancy settling heavy in the air as he rips open the packet and fishes out a stick.

“let me know if you’re uncomfortable with this.” his voice is low, murmuring something that he only wanted you to hear.

“it’s fine,” you reassure before latching your mouth to the opposite end, trying not to show the flurry of emotions whirlpooling within you in this very moment.

was this real? are you dreaming?

when your noses lightly bump into each other, you wake up to reality because this was real. you weren’t dreaming and his face was now mere millimetres away from yours. his eyes glance up from your lips to meet your eyes and you feel a spark occur, one that wasn’t unwelcome.

there’s just one little bit left, you can practically feel his lips against yours, the gap tormenting the two of you as one of you waits for the other to make the first move. he shakily exhales. you're going to go insane from anticipation.

fuck it. you’ve come this far.

he jolts a little in surprise at your boldness before melting into you, smiling into the kiss as all tension seeps out of his shoulders. distantly, you hear cheers and whoops from everyone, too caught up in the feeling of finally having him against you, blissfully relishing at the way your arms wind around his neck, embracing him like you've been meaning to for a while.

he smiles against you when noticing how eager you are, relieved and delighted at the same time.

"you're perfect," he whispers when he reluctantly breaks away, eyes droopy yet filled with desire.

you’re caught off guard when he tells the person next to you to move aside before sitting down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as everyone else watches.

thank goodness for truth or dare.

isagi, yukimiya, REO, SAE (ik he’s like a ‘cool’ guy or whatever but i think he’s a total dork so let me have my moment),

DOES IT BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU. he could not care less about some stupid game and he sure doesn’t need a fucking game to kiss the love of his life. he could do that whenever he pleases; a luxury that he will never take for granted.

but when you looked so happy and excited to try it out, how could he say no?

“this is ridiculous,” he mutters, making his opinion known for the umpteenth time before connecting his lips to the end of the pocky stick. after a small countdown, the game begins and he starts without hesitation, biting down on the breadstick with an unmatched pace, quickly crossing into your territory.

before he could reach you though, you pull away, unsatisfied with his impatience. he groans at the sudden lack of contact, especially when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

“could you at least try a little harder?” you ask, unimpressed as he finishes the snack.

“i’m trying very hard, isn’t the point of this game to kiss one another?” he counters.

“well, yeah-”

“-if anything, you’re losing right now, love, so why don’t you try a little harder?” he asks in a low tone, nearing his face towards yours as his voice turns a little more sultry at the end.

you push his face away, grinning to hide the effect he still has on you. “oh shut up, creep. what if i proposed a challenge?”

“i’m listening.”

“let’s play it so that we try not to kiss, how about that, pretty boy? loser does whatever the winner wants.”

he straightens up a little at the nickname usage and the prospect of a prize. quirking a brow out of fascination, he relents. “fine. ass deal, but whatever you want.”

you keen at his willingness before grabbing another stick to set up the game once again. when you glance back up at him, a shiver runs down your spine at the darkened, lidded look he was giving you.

he prompts you to do the same when he takes a bite from the snack.

this time, he’s slow and methodical with his actions, taking small bites to meet you in the middle where you enter a stalemate. here you can feel his breath against your lips, fanning against you ever so gently.

this is going to be a lot harder than you anticipated because he’s really good at resisting temptation and urging you at the same time. it’s almost unfair how he keeps nearing your lips, threatening to close the gap before leaning away, leaving you to chase after him, all whilst holding a delicate piece of breadstick between his teeth. you can’t exactly make out if he’s smirking or not, but the mirth is evident in his eyes.

he’s luring you in and it’s working.

next thing you know, you’re surging up to meet his lips in a clash of teeth, passion, and desire, all in one. it’s messy, but he wouldn’t want it any other way, especially when he’s the one who got what he wanted.

oh well, this wasn’t too bad for you either.

“see,” he says, pulling away, breathless and panting, his swollen lips forming into a smile. “this is way better than some stupid game.”

“shut up and make out with me.”

he keeps it to himself how you bought his least favourite flavour because it tastes better with you.

RIN, niko, chigiri (hear me out on this one: i’m right)

HOW DID YOU GET HERE? you were enjoying your packet of pocky, really, you weren’t expecting anything exhilarating. however, that changed when he snuck up beside you, peering over your shoulder to see what you were eating.

you don’t miss the way his eyes light up upon seeing the branded snack in your hands and immediately asks if he can have one. when you glance inside the packet to see how many you have remaining, you tell him that there’s only one left which you tauntingly put in your mouth to gloat in his face.

what you were not expecting at all was for him to take a bite of the opposite end and you're immediately stunned into silence.

if that wasn’t enough, there was no shame when he began nibbling on it, closing the gap between your faces as he concentrates intensely on eating the confectionary sweet.

you’re quite literally frozen, not having it in you to merely blink, too scared to move or retract away from him lest your poor heart give out from how it thunders in your chest, reverberating with the might of a thousand suns.

if that wasn’t bad enough, the way he gently grabs your face with both hands to keep you cemented where you are only worsens your current predicament. warm palms holding either side as he stares determinedly at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

was he always this pretty?

then, when you don’t think he can get any closer, he snaps the stick, pulling back with a satisfied grin, hands lingering where they’ve sought purchase before returning to his side.

“thanks for sharing, y/n. best pocky i’ve ever had in my life,” he says before turning around, walking away to leave you on the verge of a meltdown.

NAGI, bachira (but with more excitement), otoya,

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bunnyreaper · 8 months

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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.7k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn? notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!! anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥

Lonely girl looking for owner.

Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him.

At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.

Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are.

You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox.

From: squeakycleanscot

Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl

Hi,

Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.

I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.

When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them.

I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)

Happy to send a picture if you'd like :)

Hope to hear from you soon,

Johnny.

You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind.

Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious.

You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.

hi johnny,

scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound?

it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;)

cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby.

i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream <;3

if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay?

have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences!

y/n

As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird?

You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up.

Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.

Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;)

I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers.

I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind.

Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol

Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post.

His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for.

You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting.

Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man.

looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?

i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic?

barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)

same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay?

Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too.

Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate.

It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach.

Clearly, he's a softie at heart.

When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message.

Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :)

You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere...

It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.

You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.

Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.

holyfwucj

holy fuck

Like what you see?

i need a hug from you urgently.

now i feel shy...

It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck.

Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance.

Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal.

You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go.

Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you.

I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie.

okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!!

Holy fuck yourself.

And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background.

If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.

sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep.

Can you do me a favour?

That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you.

depends on what it is!

Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah?

does that mean you're coming for me?

One day, if we're both lucky.

seems promising so far, Johnny.

Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell.

The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible.

how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean!

Patience, bonnie. Be good for me?

You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.

It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave.

okay, but I see how this is going to be :(

Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;)

now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny...

Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?

cuddling up to barnaby now.

You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets.

talk tomorrow?

Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams <;3

You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness.

For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight.

He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.

-//-

Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar.

The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.

Good morning, sweet girl.

Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in.

He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you.

morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep?

Like a baby. Yourself?

not the best, but I swear you were in my dream.

Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do?

I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though.

You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.

My dreams were shite, you didn't show up.

i'll try harder to be there tonight!!

Promise?

promise.

God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into.

You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation.

You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information?

It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.

With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.

What's your plan for the day?

lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu?

I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can.

On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there.

You rush to follow up your message with something else.

will you still be able to call tonight?

Aye, give me your number, I'll save it!

You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.

The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.

Cute profile pic on whatsapp.

Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.

it was Halloween, I swear!!

You make an adorable little kitten, lass.

imagination running wild now? ;)

Aye, but I'm a gent.

hopefully not always...

Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty.

talk to you then <;3

Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice.

What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears?

The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.

Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home.

You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer.

It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you.

You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.

i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!!

Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.

i can tell <3

Ready to call?

whenever you're ready!

The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat.

"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too.

"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak.

A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident.

You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?"

He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise."

Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face.

"I like yours too, you sound so sweet."

You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes."

"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?"

"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..."

"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then."

"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive.

"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite."

"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar.

A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass."

"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.

"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten.

The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating.

"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing."

"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."

If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more."

He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."

"Now I'm pouting."

"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver.

"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy.

"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips."

You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside."

"No?"

"Nope."

"Might not be gentle with you, though."

"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.

"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth."

"You have no idea..."

He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie."

"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone."

He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head."

"You're already making good progress." You admit.

"Oh aye?"

You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight."

"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"Already spoiling me, too."

Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.

"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine."

You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?"

"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh.

While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise.

"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life.

In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?"

"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt.

If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you."

There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air.

"Hard to come by, I've found."

The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love.

You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?"

"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing.

"That's... horrible."

Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.

"A few of the lads here have a similar story."

"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.

"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?"

"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course."

At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye."

You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling."

"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone."

"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow."

"So do I, alarms set for 4."

You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.

"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand.

"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest."

"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much."

You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"

"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder.

"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?"

"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy."

Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."

"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there."

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed."

"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken.

"Oh yeah?"

He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?"

"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.

"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me."

"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke."

"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.

"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though."

"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."

You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!"

"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice.

"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that."

"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling.

"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side.

"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy."

You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked."

"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation.

"Mhmm."

"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.

When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive."

You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything."

"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs.

"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."

Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.

"You like the military get up?"

"Love it, more than I probably should."

"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?"

"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?"

"Sergeant."

"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?"

"Mactavish."

Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.

"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders.

"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs.

"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title.

The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.

"What else do you like to be called?"

"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir."

"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt.

"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie."

"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.

"Aye, spanking arm at the ready."

"My pouting lips are ready."

"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."

Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it.

Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot."

The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.

The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.

As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake.

"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.

"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking."

"Me either, but av got bad news."

You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on."

"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome.

"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am.

"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?"

"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.

"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."

Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?"

"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane."

Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'"

You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you."

"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."

Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?"

"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime."

And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.

"Yeah?"

You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please."

His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday."

"5 whole days."

"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?"

You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?"

Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass."

"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon."

"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."

You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead.

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #soap mw2 #this is a crime against literature i swear #also a crime against graphic design #crimes all round???#anyway posting and pretending this doesnt exist so the self loathing goes away xox #aaaaaaaaaaah #collars and cages

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havocskies · 4 months

Note

bro pls pls pls pls 🙏 do an NSFW alphabet with hobie ill do anything?!!!

HOBIE BROWN | NSFW ALPHABET

i am losing my self respect day by day.

anyway im also sorry for not posting ive been flirting w this dude for the past few days he is so cute but that will not stop me from writing for yg xoxo

╭──╯ . . . . . ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ . . . . . ╰──╮

A = AFTERCARE

- hobie is an absolute GOD at aftercare n i wholeheartedly believe this. especially when he knows he can be a bit much at times, there’s never a time where he skips out on aftercare. i think he would like to just relax, cuddle, and talk for a bit after he cleans you up thoroughly. then probably get a little treat, but he always likes to make sure you actually had fun as well. he’d put all of his attention on you way before he started worrying about himself, you’re always his priority

B = BODY PART

- i think hobie doesn’t have a MAJOR preference for anything but he seems like a thigh kinda guy. doesn’t matter the gender or size, he’s a thigh enthusiast. not always in a nasty way, he also just thinks they’re comfortable and whatnot. wear anything that shows your thighs and he is all for it 🙌

C = CUM

- im sure hobie keeps up w his health and cares for it, so i don’t think he’d taste horrible. he’s considerate guys 😭 idk if he’d really have a preference for where he cums either. probably asks beforehand or just knows what you prefer but if you’ll let him he’ll switch it up for funsies

D = DIRTY SECRET

- hobie doesn’t really keep secrets much, and i don’t think he’d be doing anything vile enough to really have to keep secrets anyway 😭 he’s just a normal dude imo but thoughts wise ?? he’s definitely imagined some things he’s too scared to talk abt im sure (take that how u will)

E = EXPERIENCE

- im sorry ik yg see him as like a sex god manwhore but i cant see it 😞 he’s spiderman he’s a nerd and he’s goofy, like yes he’s hot but he definitely fumbles without knowing the opportunity was even there LMAOO but regardless i think his body count is VERY low if not even zero. that doesn’t mean he’s ignorant, though. he’s figured out enough to know what he’s doing and what to do, he’s considerate and never wants his partner to be left out of thought

F = FAVORITE POSITION

- i can’t really see him having a favorite position i think he would’ve had little to no opinions but the moment yg find one you specifically like a lot he LOVES it. loves anything that makes you react the most, he’s such a pleaser yg cannot convince me of anything different

G = GOOFY

- yg write him to be all serious n i dont like it 🙁 he’s hobie he’s gonna crack a few jokes, especially if he’s nervous or he sees you’re nervous and he wants you to relax. probably jokes about how he’ll try his best not to send you to the hospital or wtv (he is not that confident)

H = HAIR

- hobie probably isn’t always clean shaven so he believes you don’t have to be either. still he’d at least be trimmed just to make things easier and whatnot. just his preference, whatever you do w yours he could not care less. other than that i think if sony was allowed he’d have a happy trail but unfortunately sony are pussies (im kidding)

I = INTIMACY

- i think hobie would prefer intimacy over anything else. he’d see sex as less of a pleasure thing and more of something to be shared when you’re extremely close. i don’t think sex w him would ever be meaningless, he’s always trying to show how much he loves you

J = JACK OFF

- hobie’s probably just an average dude. doesn’t do it too much bc like ?? why would he when he has you. ofc, if you’re not up to it yea he’ll go somewhere or just deal with it, you’re never obligated in his eyes. i just think he’d prefer you over anything else

K = KINK

- he’s gotta be a little freaky. like i say a lot (im sorry) he does joke abt biting, so he probably has some small kinks but i doubt anything serious. maybe at the most a very minor corruption kink, but its only about introducing you to things if you’re entirely willing. something about knowing he’s the one introducing you to it makes him wanna do it more

L = LOCATION

- hobie doesn’t strike me as a very public kinda guy. like maybe on occasion, but it’d have to be somewhere he’s pretty sure yg won’t get caught. i do think he’d prefer in your or his own home though, makes it more intimate and less stressful. he would however joke about fucking near someone yg don’t like out of spite

M = MOTIVATION

- you’d probably have to be actively trying to get him going, sex is never really the first thing on his mind. ofc it can very well happen unintentionally. i think gestures, positions, anything that shows off something ALONG WITH the clear intent will make him realize. maybe. i still wholeheartedly believe he’s pretty oblivious most of the time, he can be wanting it but he won’t realize you’re trying to make him want it. he’s a little dumb bear with him. he also just doesn’t associate revealing clothing with you wanting sex, so you’ll have to find other ways to get him to realize you want him. anyway i think mostly anything that shows off your thighs will get his mind wandering. anything that shows off their shape or just shows them off in general

N = NO

- in no way ever will you get this dude to do cnc (consensual nonconsensual) he gets sometimes its a trauma response but yg also have to remember he’d have to be getting off by pretending to assault you and i just can’t see it. he couldn’t do it, he’d rather try and help you with that trauma in other ways

O = ORAL

- happy to give always 🙌 he sees it as no different than you giving. even so, i don’t think he’d ever ask you for head. he’d see it more as a bonus, not something that’s expected in a relationship. if you’re never comfortable giving or even receiving head he will not be losing sleep whatsoever

P = PACE

- probably likes to switch it up. while i do think most of the stuff he said in his intro were jokes (runway model, inconsistency, labels, etc) i do think he does like to switch things up. he doesn’t like being limited to one thing, he likes to explore a bit and keep you on your toes xoxo

Q = QUICKIE

- hobie doesn’t strike me as someone who cares much for quickies. he’d much rather take his time, show he actually loves you. if both of yg are REALLY struggling then yg are going home, end of story. if you were to suggest a quickie he’d be unsure but he’d be willing to try at least

R = RISK

- hobie’s big risk taker im sure, but sex is a lot different than everything else. it’s a lot deeper and meaningful, so he doesn’t want to risk upsetting you or causing problems. idk if he’d even wanna risk being caught bc that’s just an inconvenience to everyone else 🙁🙁 only if it’s inconveniencing someone neither of you like i suppose

S = STAMINA

- pretty good stamina. not crazy or anything, but he can definitely go for a while. i think he finishes fairly average time but he can go multiple rounds, yk ?? like i said not a sex god guys

T = TOYS

- im sure hobie isn’t against toys at all ☠️ kinda goes back to what i said w introducing you to things. he’ll definitely try anything (as long as it’s humane 😭) and really doesn’t have much shame. take that part how u will.

U = UNFAIR

- hobie definitely likes to tease, no doubt. not all the time ofc but he can be an asshole just for jokes. if you’re genuinely upset he’ll stop. plus i think edging and overstimulating would count as something that deserves to have a conversation over first, not everyone’s completely into that and he knows full well

V = VOLUME

- i don’t think he’d be loud. not a whimperer probably but definitely a groan kinda guy. he has no shame breathing and groaning in your ear if he’s really goin (with you ofc he is)

W = WILD CARD

- switch. i think by default he’s more dom leaning but if you take that position he won’t complain, he thinks it’s hot as hell. would probably let you do almost anything to him 😇

X = X-RAY

- he’s pretty tall guys, it’s not small that’s for sure. i think honestly he’d be around 6-8, anything above is just scary in my full opinion so that’s not what he has ummm. i do think he’d be pretty normal girth. and, ofc, if he is pierced he would’ve done it himself. a stranger handling and piercing your dick is not for the weak im sure

Y = YEARNING

- probably a pretty normal/average drive. he didn’t think much about sex before you so going without it isn’t a problem for him at all. i don’t think he’d be like horny 24/7 around you, most of the time he’s just happy to be around you

Z = Zzz

- like i said w aftercare hobie prefers to stay up with you and spend time. even if it’s late at night he will try his absolute best, he’s not sleeping until he’s sure you’re comfortable and completely cleaned up. unless you like emptied his balls or destroyed him or something, then aftercare is on you i guess 🤕

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cant-really-remember · 8 months

Text

This all started with an already complicated meta and I felt like mine was getting lost at the bottom (it is a lot to read). I feel like mine, even though it references the original posts, can stand on its own. I also want to put it out again because I am still fleshing this all out and want to write more about cult/abuse survivorship and GO.

I want to add so much to this from the perspective of a cult survivor (born in).

Important things to know about cults, cult survivorship. (In this, Aziraphale = she, Crowley = he)

Cults:

A system that organizes people around a doctrine, a charismatic leader, or both. Akin to fascism, complete obedience is expected - as well as complete honesty (or at least you have to be honest about when you “stray”).

There is a theory about the psychology of cults, by Janja Lalich, that is called bounded choice (also the name of her book). This theory proposes that the insidious cult system can, essentially, hijack personal choice or “freedom” by requiring members to make decisions in a wildly skewed reality where there is no choice that would be good for the individual and is often harmful to them. From the outside, these choices can seem irrational, dangerous, or just plain awful - but within the confines of the cult, which is controlling the narrative and truths of the world for members, these choices are aligned with the “highest power”, “greatest purpose”, or whatever the doctrine is built around.

(So much more under the cut)

Cults are often highly organized and incredibly insidious, with hierarchies that maintain the status quo and power, with written texts that shape the way members see the world, with directions for how everyone should think about everything. You are not allowed to come to your own conclusions and, actually, doing that can actually be downright dangerous.

It’s really important to understand that the cult mechanism of being in complete control of the narrative causes people to build their ENTIRE identities around this cult narrative. Any threat to this narrative (someone showing you the hypocrisy of the group, the potential fall of the cult or leader, tangible proof that the world is different than you’ve been told) is FIRST met with denial and thought stopping. “I can’t think like this.” At this point, the member can circle back and strengthen the cult narrative they carry by dismissing/fighting what they just saw. Or they can let it in. They can take it into consideration.

But this, this consideration, can literally feel like pulling out foundation stones of your house. The cult worldview is the foundation on which the member has built their ENTIRE IDENTITY. You think, oh great, the cult member can leave and join the world and be so much happier. But imagine, you are a member of a cult who tells you that the air on earth is unbreathable for “good” people. The only people who can just walk around and breathe the air are terrible, immoral people - so you have to carry around a tank of oxygen with you everywhere to maintain your “goodness”. One day, your oxygen tank falls down the subway steps and rolls on to the track and gets obliterated by an incoming train. You are standing there and you TRULY ABSOLUTELY believe that if you breathe the air you will become a terrible, immoral person and even beyond that, since you are now a terrible and immoral person, you will lose everything you had ever known. You won’t belong in your community anymore. Do you breathe? Can you breathe? Will you die? Will you lose everything?

This obviously seems irrational and absurd — we all know the air doesn’t turn you into a terrible, immoral person — but that cult member believes it with every fiber of their being. So when you present them with evidence or proof of the cult narrative being wrong or hypocritical, this is what they are experiencing. You trying to take away their oxygen tank.

Cult survivorship:

Getting out of a cult is basically getting out of an abusive relationship. But you are in relationship with an entire community and a narrative of the world. If you know anything about abusive relationships, what is most important in leaving successfully is finding your “you” again. The “you” before the relationship and the abuse.

If you are born into a cult, there is no “you” from before. This abusive, twisted, often sadistic and violent narrative of….well, everything is all you have ever known. You don’t know what it feels like to be a “human”. You have little knowledge of the “real world”.

Leaving a cult you were born into is like going to a different planet. You don’t understand how things work, what people are talking about, how relationships function, or how (real and healthy) communication is important. You definitely don’t have any opinions about anything. You can scarcely figure out what to have for breakfast, imagine trying to make huge complicated emotional decisions. And realizing those emotional decisions are meant to be made on the basis of what good for YOU. You have never considered yourself first, you don’t know what that feels like and in the past it has usually brought pain or isolation or loss.

Framework

I want to set the framework that in my analysis Crowley is a born in cult survivor who was kicked out of the cult, then goes on to do the very natural thing called “cult hopping” - where you leave a cult just to fall into another one immediately - his new cult is less powerful, less organized, and less scary. Aziraphale is still very, very much in the cult she was born into. She is still a “true believer”. They are both grasping at “the world” to leave their authoritarian cults.

The absolute MOST DANGEROUS relationship for a true believer to have is one with a defected or discarded member. This is the case for multiple reasons:

- The out person can provide a different perspective (NOT allowed in a cult) and can often see the hypocrisy, abuse, and control.

- Cults often have their own “language”, this may mean in a literal sense of having made up words but usually it means that words have double meaning. An out person knows this language and can have an much easier time getting through to an in person because of this.

- The out person is a living, breathing example that you can have a life outside the cult.

- The cult will have spent an extraordinary amount of time undercutting the “goodness”, value, and morality of the out person. If the out person shows any kindness or humanity, this can serve to undermine the cult teachings and control.

- And the obvious reason that “fraternizing” with the enemy can lead to shunning, violence, or even death.

In terms of the 1967 scene:

If you read the OPs, there is discussion of who knows what and when. The first, and I feel, most important thing to know is that emotions are complex, layered, and always evolving and devolving - especially if you have the CPTSD of cult survivorship. CPTSD often creates a firewall between the victim and their feelings. Simply, they don’t know what they feel.

Within this framework, Aziraphale firmly believes that he “can’t” love Crowley. Like it isn’t physically possible. Within the narrative she lives in, this is not even a remotest of possibilities, it’s against the laws of Heaven and physics. And every time Crowley shows her the hypocrisy of Heaven, we see the denial as she is desperately clinging to her sense of “self”. But we also see the cracks in the foundation.

Over 6000 years, the cracks have been widening and widening and Aziraphale’s self is beginning to be defined by humanity and Crowley. She is trying to leave the cult for “the world” because she is realizing that in THAT world her love for Crowley IS actually possible. Not just from the surveillance/meddling standpoint, but from the realization that the physics of “the world” allow for an angel and a demon to be in love.

All the while, she is struggling — and I mean STRUGGLING— to chose something for herself. She doesn’t understand what it even means to put herself first. Like again, I mean she cannot conceptualize it. Choosing yourself doesn’t obey the laws of physics in the upside down cult narrative.

Soooooo, as the OP says - the holy water incident is the first time Aziraphale does something against the narrative she has been brainwashed to believe WITHOUT some type of plausible deniability. She is doing it because maybe, just maybe she can begin to even consider that it could even be possible that she could have feelings for Crowley. She is very far from knowing she is in love. Here’s where the complexity comes in - I do think she is very in love with Crowley at this point, but she will not let himself even consider it because letting it in could topple her house of cards.

—“we can dine at the Ritz”

Another important thing to know about people in cults is they are, by necessity, very romantic and optimistic people. You have to believe in all kinds of crazy shit and make invisible connections and make meaning out of nothing. So her romantic “dine at the Ritz” is not only a “I’m really trying to get out but I can’t see a way out now but I really am trying” but it’s also such a “true believer” thing to do…she has probably spent so much time fantasizing about the perfect date in her disassociative daydreams.

She is planning the perfect escape but keeps putting it off because she believes she can game the system or fix the cult or find a way to quietly slip out the back door. None of these things are possible in a cult. You cannot chose yourself and the cult at the same time.

—“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.”

Crowley, like always, is saying “GET OUT. Just RUN. I’ll run with you. I know it’s scary and painful and devastating, but I promise that it will be ok. I want to leave my cult, too, but honestly that would probably mean I would see you less or maybe die. So let’s do this together.”

Crowley knows that Aziraphale can’t fix it or get out peacefully. He is begging her to just pull the damn bandaid off. Crowley also knows the soul-crushing feeling of your entire life and world and everything you believe being shattered to dust. So he is endlessly patient and empathetic with the pain Aziraphale is going through.

—pause, “you go go fast for me, Crowley”

Baby girl can see what he is asking her to do. And it gives her so much hope. She can see him holding his hand out to pull her through the door. But she is still not ready. She cannot, yet, do the work and processing of her identity being built on lies and hypocrisy. She wants to continue to believe in good — and by proxy, evil.

I don’t think “you go to fast for me” is about Crowley’s lifestyle or that it’s getting too hot-n-heavy. I think it’s that he is (im)patiently waiting outside her door for her to leave her cult. Aziraphale knows that he is asking her to do, but she can’t even fathom it yet. She has to extricate her identity from Heaven (the cult) before she can leave.

Crowley wasn’t able to take his time and slowly turn away from Heaven - he was ripped from her bosom and left to rebuild himself year by year. His different hairstyles and fashions are not only about fitting in to humanity (which he adores) but he is practicing his new found personal freedom (limited by Hell) and rebuilding his identity on a new foundation. This is definitely a normal cult survivor response.

Where we are now

Instead of jumping into a idling car and flooring it, Aziraphale is trying to find her identity while still having the comfort of the cult. This is also a very normal cult survivor response. Trying to build herself and her outside relationships up so that when she leaves she has a soft place to land. But this is a very dangerous option…as we saw with the end of S2. You can eat food, listen to music, do all kinds of worldly things but if you aren’t truly rebuilding your identity on different foundations and without the cult influences, you can be drawn back in VERY EASILY. The deal with the Metatron is perfectly crafted to suck her back in.

The last 15 minutes of S2E6 is so familiar to me. It’s called hoovering. They suck you back in like a vacuum. They can do it expeditiously because they know EXACTLY where your buttons are, your hopes and dreams, what lies you will believe, what fears you have BECAUSE THEY PUT THEM THERE. If you don’t rewrite your cult identity, then you are still operating on the script you were given by the cult and they can write a new exciting scene that fits in ever so perfectly with your disassociative daydreams. They know you because they controlled the shape of your world and then observed you in it for your whole life. They didn’t allow you your own thoughts or to ask questions and now they have the “perfect situation” for you that will seemingly assuage both your cult identity and your outside influences. They can tell you EXACTLY what you want to hear.

And you fall for it, because the relief is enormous. Being in the good graces of the cult while also thinking you can do the things you want to do is literally the “perfect” situation. It looks like the painless path that will let you stay in denial but also feel like you have some semblance of choice. But, surprise, it’s a trick.

I think the moment outside the elevator when the Metatron admits to the second coming is the absolute “oh shit, I fucked up” moment for Aziraphale. She really thought she would get it all but again the cult lied and manipulated her and sucked her back in. At that moment, you hear a miracle sound. For the longest time I thought it was the Metatron putting some “spell” on Aziraphale, but I have come to be convinced that she is putting Nightingales on the radio for Crowley as a way of communicating.

Aziraphale is not the type to impulsively turn and run back to Crowley — but I think she realized she needed to tell him that everything he had said finally caught up with her in that moment and that she finally understands what the hell he was saying before the kiss. So she sends the song to the Bentley (it is already established that she has a strong connection with the Bentley and the Bentley can be felt/controlled from miles away by those with a connection) and then gives Crowley a glance that says “You were right. You were right. I was wrong. You were right.” and gets in that elevator gathering courage resulting in a smile that, to me, says “murder hornet in the beehive.”

Thank you @paperbunny and @zionworkzs for spurring this diatribe.

#good omens 2 #ineffable fandom #ineffable husbands #good omens #ineffable partners #crowley x aziraphale #good omens prime #good omens meta #go2 #cult omens #religious trauma #cults #cult survivor #can’t really go

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yanderes-galore · 9 months

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Awesome! In that case, I'd like a romantic concept of Chucky if that's cool? Can be from any movie or even show, I don't care. I just need more Chucky content lmao

I get it! I rewatched the first movie so I'm going to just do a general idea of how I feel things would go.

Yandere! Chucky Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Sadism, Manipulation, Violence, Blood, Many mentions of murder, Possessive behavior, Rituals/Voodoo, Forced family dynamic briefly mentions, Forced relationship.

I'm going to say this now, he'd be vile with his obsession.

Chucky has killed a woman's husband to try and take her family for himself and her as his wife when he was human in canon.

Chucky is capable of manipulating and threatening others to do what he wants.

He also killed Tiffany to make her a doll and his wife? Another thing in canon?

You're so screwed.

I can see Chucky taking the role as a kid's doll to get closer to you if we're talking first movie Chucky.

Any other movie he lurks just out of your gaze, watching and waiting.

Chucky isn't considerate and certainly sees his darling as something to "own" in a way.

He'd stalk you and kill those close to you one by one.

To him murder is the fun part, but he could always frame others for the crime to get people out of the picture.

Chucky's impatient but he'd plan this whole thing out.

He knows he generally wants to get you alone but in order to do that he has to prepare.

If you had a family, like a kid, partner, and everything... Chucky's determined to end it.

He would brutally kill your partner out of jealousy.

He'd spare your kid but would definitely corrupt them.

Then of course there's the big prize, you.

He feels spilling the blood of those close to you sends a message.

He isn't sure why you've become his favorite, the one he always returns to after other victims...

Yet you managed to warm your way into his mind, huh?

I'd imagine before he kills your partner (if you have one) he often returns to your house to stalk.

He likes watching you but hates anyone else in the house with you.

Roommates, siblings, partner, anything like that.

For some reason he gets frustrate at them.

They won't be too much of a problem once he gets them alone.

I imagine Chucky doesn't care much for your feelings.

He loves you but isn't going to listen to you whine about the fact he killed those close to you.

You're in the right, yeah, yet he still finds it annoying.

Chucky would most likely keep you as human for the most part.

It's much harder to play the part of your boyfriend or even husband though.

Eventually after Chucky has managed to isolate you and even break you down he'd probably turn you into a doll.

He can be degrading to you while also trying to tell you he adores you.

There's some extreme mixed signals.

He'll wait until you accept your fate.

Which is usually after your attempts at fighting him.

He's much stronger than you think and would cut your Achilles tendon if he meant you wouldn't run from him.

It seems you just don't get it.

He's been watching you for a while and has determined he simply must have you as his.

Your running is getting on his nerves.

Perhaps you need to see things from his perspective?

He tries to pick a doll that resembles you before he acts on his plan.

The ritual will only hurt for just a moment, at least that's what he tells you.

You aren't in much of a position to fight him when he's planting the knife in your chest with your tendons cut.

It does not hurt for just a moment. It hurts a lot more.

Chucky tells you it'll all be fine when you wake up!

You'll wake up and take some time to get used to your new body but he'll be there.

You don't want him there.

Honestly the moment you become a doll you are forced to rely on him.

Which is the perfect idea for Chucky!

If you ever did have a kid he may keep them human or make them a doll too, depends on how much he likes them.

His end goal has always been to make you a doll, punishment or not.

Because then you're stuck with him!

Yeah, good luck running off.

No one's helping you no matter how hard you plea.

Even if you had a kid and they tried to get you help, they'd be diagnosed as insane.

The only people who are going to believe you are Chucky and anyone who's seen how these haunted dolls work.

Chucky revels in the fact you're stuck.

It's perfect! He can control and keep you like this!

He's always liked a darling that's got some fight in them... but if you're submissive that's fantastic too!

He enjoys the fact he's destroyed your old life.

Now you have to get used to being a doll.

His doll.

There's no need to cry! Chucky reassures you that you and him will make a wonderful pair.

Even if it only solidifies the fact you can't leave him.

#yandere slasher #yandere slashers #yandere chucky #yandere charles lee ray #yandere child's play

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bird-inacage · 8 months

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After your last gifset (the sun vs moon one) and in light of the two preview clips we get from next week - Sand shutting Ray's request to be friends down and Ray having his little jealous fit at the party - I keep thinking about the fight at Sand's apartment from the trailer. And what I think I'd like (but am sadly not convinced will happen, because why would they cause us the least pain?) is for that fight to happen after the party jealousy episode, and be because Ray's finally confronting some level of his feelings for Sand. What I'm imagining in my best-case scenario is: Ray has his jealous fit and goes to talk to Sand afterwards, with the intention of keeping Sand on the hook/reinstating the flirtation even though it isn't going to go anywhere. (I don't think he'd encourage outright cheating because that instantly = no more Mew.) Sand turns that down flat because "Do you think I have no dignity?" as per the OST clip. And Ray has another jealous/entitled meltdown and says he doesn't even want to be with Sand anyway, he wishes he'd never met him, and he bets those grapes were sour anyway etc etc. Anyway, I don't think it will happen, but I like the idea on the grounds of a) Sand having a backbone! Yes please! and b) continuing to set up Ray's inevitable full-bore bitch fit if/when the ex shows back up. I thought you might enjoy that scenario too!

Haha, Hello Anon! 👋

Firstly, I do hope Sand stands his ground. He's given Ray A LOT of chances. If he starts wavering, I'll flip a goddamn table. Sand needs to stick up for himself, but also narratively Ray has to feel the threat of Sand distancing to ever recognise his own feelings.

What I anticipate is things with Mew start to get a little rocky. Whilst Top is doing his level best to win Mew back, that's potentially when Sand's ex enters the scene. Timing wise, Sand is going to be much more susceptible to an old flame trying to rekindle whilst he's bouncing back from Ray. He's not in too deep yet to be opposed to the idea of moving onto someone else. So this is where the ex could do the most damage. Sand is a man of principle so if the ex showed up whilst he and Ray were already together, I don't think he'd be as easily swayed. Which is why I'd be inclined to expect the ex to show up before Ray and Sand have identified each other as lovers.

Now if that does happen, Ray is going to have an existential crisis. He finally has Mew, and yet he's not happy. He's seething. He's bothered. Perhaps Mew notices how worked up Ray seems to be over this.

What leads to the fight scene in Sand's apartment has to be pretty considerable. This fight looks 10x more brutal than the one outside the bar. And due to the sheer devastation in Sand's reactions throughout, I'm not sure this will take place next episode. I think whatever tension is brewing between them will need to escalate much, much more if it's to go from somewhat numb to utter anguish.

"You think my life will be better with you? It's only f*cking going down to hell." The dialogue could be read either as 'oh you think I'd be better off with you as my boyfriend instead of someone else (e.g. Mew)?' or 'you really think you would make my life better?' (in a more general sense).

But yes, I'm all for Ray going on a steady trajectory of losing his mind over Sand giving him the cold shoulder. Added in with the likelihood of things just not working out at all with Mew, and potentially Sand's ex rocking up. *Rubs hands together* I just need to see Ray jealous. That's all I really want. That boy was behaving way too cocky in the Episode 8 preview and he needs to be brought back down to earth. Swiftly.

Thanks for the ask! 😉

---birdie

#bird-inacage asks #only friends #only friends the series #ofts #ray x sand #sand x ray

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boltlightning · 6 months

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So, Pinterest found out my love for Jorrington. However it showed me some other aesthetic scenes of AWE. Which makes me wonder, if he was still alive and survived, or perhaps kept alive by David Jonathan.

What side do YOU think he would be on in the stand off, why, and what would his response be?

Does this differ to you depending on how he would be alive (escapee or enslaved by Dave Johns)

I imagine angles could be: Civil yet sassy, violent either by skill or having more numbers, obedient (to whomever is his leader).

david jonathan..............

i've definitely thought about this an inordinate amount, and my biases are on fully display as i say norrington would be at elizabeth's side, or at least hovering behind her glowering, when dealing at the parlay.

i've gone through a lot of mental turbulence over a version of events where norrington ends up a pirate, because it's so antithetical to what he stands for both as a vessel of themes and a character with feelings, i have a hard time wrapping my head around it. i think he needed to die in the canon narrative. HOWEVER. i think there's a lot of good theme resolution if he metaphorically dies on the dutchman to save elizabeth, survives and escapes with her, and casts out his former self to become a pirate, even if just to kill cutler beckett in revenge. it's more about loyalty to elizabeth and revenge than it is actually believing in what the pirates stand for than anything, but even getting to that point requires a major ego death.

for all that the title is hollow, norrington is an admiral and a lifelong seaman. he could outgambit beckett in a fleet vs armada situation, were the fleet at his disposal not a pirate fleet, and i think he'd have real valuable input at the parlay...just nothing he'd want to reveal out of hand, like everyone else.

(more thoughts below this got out of hand)

furthermore: consider that the pearl and dutchman have their final standoff during a maelstrom. his canonical ego death happened while chasing the pearl into a hurricane; if he follows elizabeth, he can help steer the pearl out of a storm to safety. the bookends! the parallels!!!

in this consideration i do imagine he's somewhere between the snarky-yet-stuffy cotbp and scruffy-and-blunt dmc norringtons, as you say. that's a great read, and a fun little thought experiment about who he is without the blade of duty/expectation hanging over his neck. civil with a sharp tongue and little reason to hold it back, but with renewed purpose and less of a vendetta against the world at large.

tldr: swap out his literal death with a metaphorical one and he'd follow elizabeth anywhere, especially to battle

(not to self-promo on an ask from a friend but i did write a 20k fic about this very subject; i'd change some stuff now but the bulk of my thoughts are in this big ass thesis. thank you for your time now back to the show)

although..........i am thinking very hard about the idea that he, like jones, is still being forced into service here? like maybe beckett keeps swann as a hostage not to keep elizabeth compliant, but to keep norrington compliant, to make sure the dutchman follows orders in the big fight.

(aside: i don't think norrington fears death or would want to live as anyone besides himself, so he'd never accept jones' offer of undeath unless it was to protect someone else from the same fate. hmm hmm much to consider)

either way: beckett brings norrington to the parlay just to flaunt "look how many of your people i have in my charge! haha!" maybe norrington is trying to drop hints to elizabeth that her father is still alive during the parlay, but she's focused on will being there ALSO trying to drop hints, and it gets messy fast.

having received confirmation that everyone ignores the puppet admiral and uses him for leverage, norrington frees both jack AND governor swann and escapes into the narrative. or something. hmm i'll workshop it

this is a very interesting idea!!! thank you so much for the ask

#local girl has written thousands and thousands of words about this guy and still can't use his first name because we're not personal friends #anyway. thank you again!!!!!!!!! i hope this suffices #always happy to field hypotheticals like this i love to talk #replies #homelesspersonchic

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wordsandrobots · 4 months

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I was sorting through a few things today and realised I never actually shared the sketches I did from when I was trying to work out what grown-up Shino looked like for To Catch a Falling Star. Mostly because they are not great. But hey, let's call this back-matter for the fic!

[EDIT: OH RIGHT THAT WAS WHY I DIDN'T POST IT. Tumblr objecting to his having nipples. Right, OK, I guess we're censoring that and not the actual signs of massive injury. Cool.]

Things to note:

The scars I explicitly stated in the text are: scarring up his neck but not extending to his head, a large burn on his left flank , an oval-shaped burn around his whisker (yes, exactly the shape you're thinking), and a strip of replaced skin taking up most of his right thigh. The rest are generally covered by 'there's a fuck-ton of them'.

(I mentioned this in the fic notes but the reason there are no scars on his face is because his helmet sealed shut right before Flauros depressurised, protecting his head from all but superficial damage. This saved his life but didn't do much for the rest of him, which was injured by the explosions and the normal-suit attempting to self-repair damage.)

Shino starts out in the fic with his head shaved but when he grows his hair back, he's (at least initially) somewhat shaggier than he was as a teenager.

He is also considerably less hench than he used to be. He's still roughly the same dimensions, but not nearly as defined and is even a bit gaunt-looking in certain lights. Traumatic everything injuries will do that to a person.

His new ear-studs are all gold; unlike Kudelia's, there is no jewel.

When I was originally thinking about the prosthetic connector, you can seen that my ideas tended a bit more Trigun-esque than is perhaps warranted. That's because I hadn't yet seen this picture of Argi Mirage's arm from the manga:

The cap on the end should therefore probably be a lot smaller and flow more cleanly into the flesh, ala a whisker, and so the outline should more resemble a real-life residual limb.

His prosthetic should also be closer to the above than I drew it -- or rather, closer to Derma's, since they're made by the same person:

I imagine there being a greater amount of plastic and otherwise non-metal sections than Moon Steel shows with Argi. Certainly, from the shot above, it seems Derma's hand is inside a flexible glove instead of just being nakedly robotic (which makes sense, he works with children whereas Argi mainly hits people for a living).

Oh, yes, for those who haven't read the fic: Shino's prosthetic having five digits is *very much* significant and plot-relevant. Actually, thinking it through now, that would explain why (per my descriptions) Shino's fingers have exposed metal parts over a softer bed of tactile sensors: to better protect them given that they're more vulnerable to damage than standard three-finger manipulators.

Anyway, there we have it. Character redesign thoughts! I should probably have another go at drawing him at some point, though I would need to get back into the swing of sketching first. Maybe when I'm done writing! (On top of everything else I plan to do when the last fic in the series is finished . . .)

#norba shino #gundam iron blooded orphans #gundam ibo #g tekketsu #tekketsu no orphans #spoilers #fanart #fanfic #my fic #my art #is fanfic back-matter a thing?#well why not

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 10 months

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The other BTS members were really homophobic to Jimin a lot…

I have no words. Imagine how Jimin must’ve felt. I know they grew out of this (Although someone claimed V said something homophobic behind the scene at an Award show about an idol who isn’t out) but this is still very fucked up and nobody can tell me this behaviour plus the comments about his appearence and weight didn’t affect Jimin maybe even more than antis’s comments would

https://x.com/aceduojkjm/status/1690984562816405504?s=46

I take into consideration that they were boys, in a very patriarchal society like Korea is. Those type of comments and "jokes" must've been ingrained in them and they probably didn't even realize it was wrong to say stuff like that.

However, finding reasons and understanding their poor behavior, their lack of empathy, lack of tact and their machismo has nothing to do with how that might've affected Jimin. More than one thing can be true; yes, they were being ignorant and mean on purpose. Maybe they didn't understand the implications, but whether they understood it or not doesn't determinate how Jimin might've felt about it.

I also think it could've taken a toll on his mental health and self confidence (even if he has plenty of that right now), more than anything when you factor in the way all of that was said in public. It's one thing to have your family members or friends pulling your hair in private, but it's a different thing to stand in front of millions and try to make you feel ashamed of something.

I'm a really strong person, I've always been so. One time when I was 15 I was invited to a "quinceañera" (latam girls we celebrate out 15 years old with a big party), but my girlfriend hadn't been invited. I tried getting in touch with the birthday girl and asked her if I could take my "friend" with me and it was all ok. My mom got angry when she found out I had invited my (girl)friend. Right before the party we argued and she screamed at me "what are you now, a lesbian?! The last thing I need is for you to be a lesbian" (I had never told her we were dating but she always suspected) And I started crying so much. I've never had any issues with my sexuality or anything, but being put on the spot like that hurt and it was embarrassing.

A lot of times I think of those BTS moments like that, but a thousand times worse because of the cameras. Even if it didn't hurt his feelings, it had to be embarrassing at least. But Jimin has always handled everything so well and has never shown even the slightest hint of shame or anything. In fact, when they talk about him being the one to give presents and all, Jimin was so smug and proud of himself. He never had a problem with showing his feelings and love even if the recipients were men.

I've had problems with people talking as if Jimin was a toxic male for years. This a post from September 2021 and I was already talking about it and trying to push back against that narrative and wording because that's never been Jimin. It was literally every other member who had to learn a lot about how to treat people nicely.

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thenightling · 3 months

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In a Facebook Over the garden Wall group that I am in, I posted about how the new Dungeons and Dragons module "Night of the Crooked Moon" is just Over the Garden Wall through a Dungeons and Dragons filter. I provided two youtube links, one of which showed the concept art, which is strikingly similar to the Oer the Garden Wall concept art. I quoted the narration which is virtually identical except for five words slightly changed. (i.e. "Clouded" swapped with "shrouded"). But someone named Jason Nesbitt was quick to dismiss the similarity as coincidence since both used Americana and The Blasting Company music. It was frustrating because he acted like I wasn't familiar with folklore, American folk art, or the vintage Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving, and Christmas postcards that inspired Over the Garden Wall. It's more than just that... This is something I hate about Facebook. Far too many people skim posts and don't read them properly before commenting and it wastes a lot of time. It becomes talking "at" someone instead of talking "to" someone. Here's what I said back to him.

"Maybe you should have read my post all the way through instead of skimming and leaping to conclusions, it's frustratingly obvious you only skimmed the post and were eager to be dismissive of it. Now I ask you to have enough consideration to read this slowly, at least the next three paragraphs.

This line here is NOT Americana: ****"Somewhere lost in the shrouded realms of death lies a realm of endless night where long forgotten horrors are revealed to those who travel through the mist."****

It only changes about five words from "Somewhere, lost in the clouded annals of history, Lies a place called The Unknown. Where long forgotten stories are revealed to those who travel through the wood."

Allow me to pluck out the similarities. The part in brackets is what is changed. "Somewhere lost in the (clouded / shrouded) (Realms / Annals) of (Death / History) lies a (Place / realm) (of Endless Night / Called The Unknown) where long forgotten (horrors / stories) are revealed to those who travel through (the mist / the wood)."

There's only five changes in the entire quote! That quote is not Americana.

Also watch the play through that is up on Youtube. They even use the black train that originally was going to be the opening of Over the Garden Wall with the implication that it's carrying the main characters to the afterlife and they don't know how they got there. That was the original planned opening sequence for Over the Garden Wall. The black steam train being what is carrying them between life and death was an invention of Over The Garden Wall, not a feature of seventeenth through early twentieth century American folklore.

Not only does it, yes, use the same Americana but it's the America AFTER it had been filtered through Patrick McHale's stylizing as you will notice most of Over the Garden Wall is visually based on vintage Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving, and Christmas postcards from the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. But this uses the visuals after they had been stylized by Patrick McHale's imagining.

Outside of the aesthetic there is also the main plot. The characters don't quite remember how they got to this surreal place and are trying to find their way home while The Beast preys on those that lose their way and hope and is a known threat lurking in the woods. And that Beast happens to be a combo Windigo / Erling.

Did you even look at the concept art or you were just eager to think I'm speaking about coincidences and don't know the origin of what's in Over the Garden Wall? I can dismiss the Jack-o-lantern maypole with the tendril sashes (because that has appeared in early twentieth century Hallowe'en postcards) but the dog-creature and even how its eyes are drawn is virtually identical to the one from the first episode of Over the Garden Wall. That was not Americana. That was an original creation for over the Garden Wall.

This is no coincidence.

You shouldn't have been so quick to assume I don't know Americana. I'm an armchair folklorist. I know what was original and what was reconstituted through Patrick McHale's imagination. You should have actually checked out what I was saying before commenting. Not only was it rude and dismissive but it made clear that YOU don't know the difference between what was original homespun lore and what was Americana in Over the Garden Wall."

#Over the Garden Wall #OTGW #Night of the crooked Moon

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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years

Text

Oneshot: Dream's POV of The Dreaming

Instead of another sneak peek this week, I've decided to post Dreams pov of showing Penelope The Dreaming. Tomorrow chapter 9 will officially be posted at around 5! :)

“All the damage the ruby did, can you undo it?” Matthew asked, hopping alongside them.

“The ruby didn’t do this. John merely used it to reveal wounds that were hidden, but never healed. Soon the rebuilding will begin. In this realm and in mine, but tonight at least, humanity will sleep in peace.” He looked down at Penelope, tucked into his side. “How is it you were not among the bodies in the diner?”

She leaned into him more as they walked further from the diner and the violence. “The ruby didn’t work on me. Got any idea what that's about?”

“I'm not sure,” he said honestly. He had a few theories, but they needed to be tested and researched before he brought them to her. “But I am glad that it did not affect you.”

“Oh, were you worried about me Dream?” Her eyes glistened with the light teasing and her smile broadened as she nudged him.

“Very.” Was his answer. After waking up to the feel of her anxiety he was very worried, scared even, that he'd not caught on to the danger she was in soon enough, that he would once again lose her.

He felt her heart quicken and watched as she smiled up at him even wider. “It’ll take a lot more than a little jewel to take me out, Dream of the Endless.”

Dream remembered all the times she'd fought and raged against the Burgess and the asylum. She was no warrior, not in the sense he was used to, but she would not go out easily. They were walking in the middle of nowhere he realized. She would no doubt want to go home, but the thought of leaving her made him tense. Home, he thought watching her as they walked. He could take her home. He stopped walking, lungs tight with the nervousness. "I would like you to accompany me, back to my realm.”

“I thought it needed to be repaired.”

“It does,” he said, slightly regretting asking her. He wanted her to see it, all the things she'd thought of trying to dream, but it was not as he left it… Not as she imagined. “But I promised you a conversation.”

“I can wait a little longer, Dream, you don’t have to-”

“I also do not wish to part with you yet. Not after finding you at the center of danger twice now because of my absence.” He admitted with a sigh. He was not used to this, being so open and affectionate, but with her he could not help himself nor could he hide it. She felt what he did, trying to keep anything from her required a strength he simply could not keep up. He set his forehead to hers. “It would ease my mind considerably if you remained beside me for just a while longer. But if you wish to return home I will escort you there and make certain you remain safe as best as I can.”

He felt her smile, the happiness and warmth that radiated through her into him. “I am rather curious to see this famous dream world of yours, I hear it’s all the rage.”

Taking his sand from his coat he looked down at her. Why was he so nervous? “It is not yet returned to its former glory, but I think you’ll still find it to your liking.”

Her hand covered his pouch, the tips of her fingers brushing against his palm. “This isn’t going to send me somewhere random again, is it?”

“No,” he said, pulling her to him. “I will ensure you do not stray from my side again.”

“Good.” She whispered back, the heat hummed between them.

From the ground beside them Matthew got as close as he could to their feet. “You’re gonna make sure I don’t get sent to any murder diners too, right boss?”

Her fingers curled into Dreams arms clutching onto Dream’s arms and he tightened his hold on her. It felt so right, having her this close to him. As the sand swirled around them he breathed in the smell of her hair, though it held a twinge of sulfur she still smelt so sweet. He imagined how the scent would wrap around him while they were wrapped around each other. The thought made him burn as the sand faded away, revealing the beach. Later, he told himself.

She stayed curled into his chest, a small apprehensive fear of what she'd find upon opening her eyes lodged in her mind. His hands smoothed down her back, the feeling of the silk warmed with her skin oy made the burning intensify. “Open your eyes, Penelope.”

She looked at the sand first before he watched her slowly take in the landscape. She moved from his arms when she saw the ocean and he could feel the swell of her disbelief and awe. Tears filled her eyes as she looked back at him smiling. "How is this possible?"

“I don’t know, but I am glad to welcome you to The Dreaming.”

“It’s incredible."

“This is just one small piece of it. Soon it will all be as it should.” He assured her.

“My Lord!” Lucienne called out, her tone one of worry. Yes, he thought. I'd not updated her before our return. He turned to her and watched as her eyes locked onto Penelope. "Is that?"

"Yes," he said, unable to hold back the joy that filled him. "My lady is alive."

"My Lord," she whispered, still half shocked.

With a gentle hand he brought her attention to his librarian. “Lucienne, this is Penelope.”

Lucienne smiled at him, before she smiled even wider at Penelope. “Hello, my lady. It is an honor to meet you.”

"I’m hardly a lady, Penelope is just fine.” He thought it was amusing to see her really took to the title. She would grow accustomed to it, his subjects would never refer to her as anything less.

“I was not expecting visitors, my Lord, I thought something horrible had happened when you did not appear back at the palace. I am glad to see that I was wrong.”

Dream held his arm out to Penelope. “Would you like to accompany us back to my palace?”

"Absolutely!” The earnest eagerness of her reply sent joy straight through him as well as made him more nervous.

What if she doesn't like it? “Unfortunately there is not much of it left, but I will repair it soon.”

As they approached the gate he prepared to move, to open it for her, but she moved first. The soft touch of her palm was all it took for the gates to open for her. She belonged here, just as much as he did. Dream said nothing, merely looked down at her in pure adoration.

His heart seized at the sight of the decaying and dark realm that lay beyond the gates, at the sight of his palace crumbling in the distance. If Penelope had any disgust or disappointment she hid it well as they began walking along the sorrowful path. She held his arm tightly, eyes looking all around them. Suddenly as they walked life seemed to begin returning to the forest and the plants that surrounded them until it looked as it once had, long ago before his capture. He hadn’t done this. He hadn’t willed the realm back to life. Dream had planned to start with the palace to establish a firm foothold before venturing through to heal the broken pieces of his world, and yet here the Dreaming was, being wrought back to life before his eyes.

As Penelope left his side the realization hit him. She was healing the forests, breathing new life into everything that surrounded them, and she was doing it all without realizing. “This is amazing, Dream.”

You are amazing. He wanted to say. There were so many questions he had, none that she would be able to answer. Lucienne fell into step beside him. “My Lord, how is this possible?”

He shook his head, not once letting his eyes fall off of the woman examining every plant she could. “I don’t know.”

“Even with the bond she should only have access to a fragment of your power,” Lucienne continued. “A human cannot endure the full depth of an Endless’ being, this is known. And yet she’s…”

“She’s healing The Dreaming without even knowing it.” He finished for her, finally looking away to speak to his librarian as they continued down the path.

Lucienne sighed before asking a question that had plagued him from the start. “Are we certain she is human?”

Dream had wondered this often. Penelope was different, so much so that he couldn’t help but doubt her being. But there was no denying the humanity she held, he could feel it in her. “Yes, she’s human. But there's something more to her… something I can’t quite place.”

“When the library is found again I shall begin researching immediately, my Lord.”

When he looked behind them to urge Penelope up to the front with them his heart nearly stopped. The path was empty, devoid of all signs of her. He turned quickly and began searching the treeline with his eyes. The sound of voices in the distance reached him. Cain and Abel. Lucienne was quick to follow his long strides as he made his way down the path and across the bridge. The brothers were bowing and quickly uttering rushed apologies and words of thanks to her as she stood looking down at them with wide eyes. Butterflies of every size and color swarmed around, a few perched atop her head in an elegant wreath as she looked toward him with a nervous smile.

“Cain, Abel,” He said as they approached. His voice pulled them from their mantra and they bowed one last time before looking up at him.

“Lord Morpheus!” They cried in unison.

Once he’d stopped at her side she held his coat back out to him. “I don’t think I need this anymore, the weather here is quite lovely.”

With a smile he looked to the sky, to the blue that he hadn’t seen in over a century begining to peek out from the gray clouds. “Yes, it seems to be clearing up nicely.”

As he pulled his coat back on Cain and Abel approached. “Thank you, my lady!”

“Our garden has never looked more beautiful!” Abel insisted.

Dream watched the woman beside him shrug and smile bashfully. “I didn’t do anything, I was just looking at the flowers.”

They looked at each other and then to him. “It seems you two have already been introduced to Penelope.”

“Yes,” they both said, their eyes darting to observe the mark she bore one last time before looking back to him for confirmation. He nodded his head slightly and they both stood up straighter.

“She is quite welcome in the House of Secrets!” Abel stated, gesturing to the house on the right.

Cain’s brows furrowed. “She’s also welcome in the House of Mysteries!”

Her laughter sent a sense of pride and awe through him. She looked between the two brothers and smiled so brightly. When he’d first returned he never thought she’d be standing here. She loved them, Cain and Abel. She loved every decayed inch of his crumbling Dreaming, loved it so much that the realm felt it… absorbed it and restored itself from her mere presence here alone. He couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his face as he watched her, standing among the garden she’d wrought back to life. His eyes looked to the butterflies that had filled the courtyard. How is she doing all this? He thought curiously. What did these creatures mean?

When he looked back down she was looking up at him, eyes shining in the returning light. “I’m afraid tours of your houses will have to wait. We are going to attend to the palace now and then, I believe we are overdue for an important conversation.”

“Yeah, we should probably get to that.” Turning to the brothers she shook both their hands, not noticing the way they both tensed and looked to him for permission. He gave them another nod, heart full for the first time in a long time at the sight of his subjects showing his lady their respect. “It was a pleasure visiting, I’ll try to come back again for a tour of both your houses, they sound amazing.”

Each bowed once again. Cain spoke, “It would be my honor, my lady.”

Abel bowed lower and followed his words. “It would be mine as well, my lady, you are welcome anytime!”

He took her elbow in his hand, the warmth of her skin spreading over his instantly. Leading her back to the path and moving her arm to retake his.“It seems Constantine was right to warn me of your talent for disappearing.”

The blush of her cheeks made him beam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wander off. I was just following these guys.” She gestured to the butterflies that fluttered through the air around them, focusing on her more than him. “They like to lead me places and are, I think, trying to be helpful.”

He looked at them curiously. “You know these butterflies then?”

“Don’t sound so sarcastic, Dream,” Penelope said with a smirk. “They helped guide me out of your brother's maze.”

Dream stopped walking, his eyes clouding over with concern. She’d entered Destiny’s realm? No mortal should have been able to do such a thing, not even with the power of his sand. “You were in my brother's realm? When?”

“A few hours ago. When things started getting weird at the diner I left, but when I opened the door and walked through I was in the middle of a hedge maze and the door kind of vanished behind me. These little guys led me to an opening where I ran into your brother, literally.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. None of this made sense. “What did he say?”

She shrugged, walking the path again. “I’m not entirely sure, does he always answer questions by not really answering them?”

“Yes, I suppose he can be quite cryptic. Though I’m surprised he spoke to you at all, he does not interfere with the affairs of mortals.”

“Yeah, he told me that much. But he seemed to know me already. He said I’d been to his garden many times before, that I was smaller the last time he saw me. It was odd.”

Dream hummed. Destiny would not have said something false there was no point to it. The fact that he’d spoken to her at all made his mind curl with confusion. If his brother had known her for some time then there was a reason behind it, something he was missing. “I suppose a conversation with Destiny is overdue.”

“Don’t worry about it. You have a lot on your plate now that you’ve got your stuff back and besides, something tells me he wouldn’t really tell you much more than he did me.” She said softly.

“Very well,” he looked down at her, a new fear filling his already scattered mind. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No! He was quite polite. We had tea and snacks.”

“He offered you tea? Snacks?” He inquired with a hint of amusement. Destiny had prepared family dinners before, but to offer up such a thing to a mortal who’d simply appeared in his realm at random? No, he could not picture that.

“Is that not something he does often?”

“No, it is not.”

She flashed him a teasing smile. “Well, maybe it’s because I’m such good company.”

"That you are, my lady."

He watched her eyes fill with the want they’d held in them before their near kiss was cut short. She nudged him gently. "Cut it out."

"I have no idea what you are referring to." He said, teasing and nearly breathless.

"You're an ass," She whispered.

He studied her for a moment, mind still reeling from the fact she’d spoken to one of his siblings with such ease. "So, you've met Destiny. Any other siblings of mine you know?"

"Your sister, Death," she stated. He’d suspected that much. "She was there the night I pulled myself out of the river. And I don't really know who the others are, so I'm not sure."

At the mention of that day, his entire body felt the echoes of the pain he'd been shackled to for the past eighty years. The words left him slowly, hesitant to reopen the newly sealed wound. "When you said goodbye to me, that last time… I knew you weren't planning on coming back."

Looking up at him her eyes glistened with his pain. She smiled sadly, whispering, "I know. I felt it."

"I wanted to speak to you then," he admitted. "I wanted to tell you not to do it."

Her guilt hit him fast and hard. He opened his mouth, quickly trying to console her, but she spoke first. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect you… I honestly kind of thought it wouldn't have bothered you that badly."

Dream felt hurt by the confession. "Why? Why would you have thought that?"

"You're you. You're a god, more than a god and I'm just me… Just a human. I figured to you I was just a spec in your endless lifetime." As he looked down at her he had to resist the urge to scoff. Had she truly spent the last eighty years thinking she meant so little to him?

He stopped, lifting her chin with his fingers. "Do you still think this?"

"No," she said softly. "No, I don't. I feel it… What you feel for me, at least some of it."

"You are no minor spec, Penelope Barlow, you are every star in the sky, a galaxy in my endless lifetime." You are everything to me.

She wiped away the small tears before he could, shifting the conversation. "So, was that the only time you wanted to talk to me?"

"No," he smiled. "When you first called me Sandy I nearly broke my silence."

Her laughter filled his ears, quieting his mind for a moment as the warmth of her arm wrapping around his filled his chest with the need to keep it there. "Yeah, that's what it looked like."

"I also…" he paused. Perhaps now was not the time to be digging up such dark memories, but he felt the pull to do it anyway. "When he told you to beg me… If you had, I would have spoken. I would have given him whatever he wanted if it meant keeping you from them."

Beside him she sobbed softly and through a wobbling, scared smile asked, "Were you angry with me?"

Morpheus turned his head quickly and without breaking his stride wiped her tears, tightening his hold on her. "No. I could never have been angry with you, Penelope."

"While I was… While I was there, I was convinced you'd hate me, or at least what I'd let myself become."

All breath left his lungs as her confession hung in the air between them. Not only had she spent all this time thinking she meant nothing to him, but she spent it all thinking he hated her. He had much to make amends for. "I have lived for a very, very long time. Over the course of my life I've hated many people and beings with ease. So, believe me when I say that I would never be capable of hating you. Never. You could single handedly destroy me and The Dreaming and I would not hate you."

Her voice was loud and shocked as she insisted, "I would never!"

He nudged her with a soothing pulse to attempt to lull the guilt she felt. "Good, because I would truly find it difficult to feel saddened for my realm with the sight of you wielding my power before me."

She chuckled, her eyes widening as the want he felt reached out to her. "I mean, I can think of better scenarios for that."

"As can I," he replied, returning his gaze to the path ahead where Lucienne smirked to herself at the sight of them.

“So, is that something I’ll be able to do? Use your power?”

“I’ll admit, I’m not quite sure.” He answered. “There have not been pairings such as ours between a mortal and an Endless before. In fact such a thing should be impossible, and yet…”

“And yet, here we are,” she finished with a smile. “An odd pairing indeed.”

Morhpeus sighed at the pitiful state of his palace. “Such a sorry display. I had hoped to bring you here after I’d finished repairs, but…”

Feeling his hesitation and vulnerability Penelope said, “It’s beautiful, Dream. Even like this.”

He looked down at her with a smile, the sincerity in both her voice and eyes filling his chest with warmth. Once they stood in his throne room, overtaken with debris he gently let go of her arm, moving to the center. He took a deep breath and raised his hands, feeling the power he'd been cut off from for a hundred years fill his lungs. It was relieving to feel his full strength returned, the shattered pieces of him slowly welding back together as he willed his palace to do the same.

The glass and rubble lifted into the air, tiny glittering particles of sand swirling around the room with them. All around them the air grew tighter as everything moved, restoring to its rightful place and above head the stars grew brighter as the color of his palace, of The Dreaming, returned. “At last, my palace is as it should be.”

Lucienne smiled at him as he turned. “Is there anything you require of me, my Lord? A list of all that still needs repaired perhaps?”

“Later,” he replied, gesturing down the hallway that had long since been lost. “For now, I think there is a specific task you should see to.”

With a smile and a look of realization she hurried down the hall and he motioned Penelope to follow. As soon as the doors opened and the large expanse of books and papers came into her view she made a soft noise. Her fingers ran along the bookshelves and she clutched her notebook to her chest. “My Lord…”

“Welcome home, Lucienne.” He said. “I thank you, for your unwavering loyalty during my absence.”

“Thank you, Lord Morpheus.” The smile on her face was one he'd not seen in a very long time as she leafed through the papers left on the desks and looked through the books on the shelves.

Dream turned to Penelope, watching her look around for a moment before he said, “I believe it is at last, later.”

“So it is, Dream King.”

“Ask your questions, and I shall do my best to answer them.”

Laughing nervously she leaned against the table instead of taking a seat. “I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning, then?” he suggested, not wanting to pressure her.

She looked down at the mark, her fingers lightly tracing over the raven shape. “Was it a gift? Or was it an accident?”

Dream thought on the question for a moment, wanting to be as honest and accurate as he could. “Both, I suppose. While I did not give it to you knowingly, it is born of a sacred gift, one I could not control even if I’d wanted to.”

"In Hell, Lucifer said that they heard rumors of you being soul bound to a mortal. Is that what this is called?”

Of course they tried prying for information. “Yes. It is common among humans, though I believe the term is different. Mortals cannot see the mark that connects them to another, but given the oddity of our circumstance you and others seem to be able to see it as if it were a mere tattoo.”

“So, what exactly does it mean?”

He sighed softly, it was a difficult question to answer and he truly didn't know how to without making it sound outlandish. Eventually he spoke, saying whatever words felt right. “Humans call them soulmates. Among the Endless and other beings it is called Soul Bound. Its meaning is different depending on the individuals, but the simplest answer I can give you is that you and I are bound together, soul to soul. Whatever it is that I am made of, you are too.”

"Two tethered stars…” she said softly.

Dreams head tilted, the words ones he'd heard before, long long ago… Long before Penelope and even before The Dreaming itself. “Where did you hear that?”

“Right before I pulled myself out of the river, I heard a voice… I don’t remember exactly what it said, but I remember those words.”

He hummed, unsure of how else to respond. “An accurate phrasing I suppose.”

“During my, uh, tea party with Destiny… He said that we were intimately acquainted… That such was inevitable when it came to us. Is that…” She rubbed her forehead, nervous. “Is this pull between us just the mark?”

It was almost amusing how little credit she gave herself. She'd been subject to a world far beyond her understanding for years and yet in her mind the most far-fetched idea was that he would want her as much as he did. He moved closer to her with a small smile. "No. The mark binds us together, this is true, but it cannot make either of us feel things that are not already there. The… pull… That’s just how we feel.”

Big doe eyes stared up at him as she blushed, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip. His eyes watched the sight, wondering what she would sound like when it was him biting that lip. “It’s quite a strong pull.”

Dream chuckled, moving even closer. “They’re quite strong feelings.”

“Mine or yours?"

“I would argue they’re equals," he said, his whole body practically vibrating with want. "As we are.”

“Equals? Does that mean I’m queen now?” His heart beat faster at her teasing. What would she look like on his throne? He wondered. He wanted nothing more than to drag her to the damn thing and have her sit, legs wide while he worshiped her.

“If that’s what you wish." He could barely get the words out, his thoughts filling with every position he wanted her in… Filling with the desperate need to know what she would sound like, feel like, beneath him.

She smiled, oblivious to his heated thoughts, continuing her teasing. “Would I get a crown? You don’t have one.”

He nearly moaned at the thought, but chuckled instead. “I’ve not needed a crown, but I could make one for you if the queen is what you decide you wanted to be.”

“Maybe later." Later, he began to like the word.

With a hum of acknowledgement he could no longer contain himself. "I won my duel against Lucifer.”

She gasped quietly. “You did.”

“I believe I was promised a kiss.”

“You were.” Her hands moved to smooth over his coat, much like they had in Hell. “Would you like to be rewarded for your noble victory now, Dream Lord?”

“Yes.” It was strained, filled with his need to finally kiss her.

With a satisfied smirk she lifted herself up, using his coat to pull him down slightly. “Very well.”

When their lips met it was short, far too short for Dreams liking. He pulled her closer, pressing her into him and squeezing the side of her hip. His hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her gently back into another kiss. He wanted more. Needed more.

The slow, languid movements of their mouths were more intense than he'd expected. His grip on the control he had left was loosening by the second, every part of him ached to throw her onto the table and kiss every inch of her. Even through the need, the lust, burning inside him it felt as natural and relaxed as breathing. I should have kissed her the moment I saw her.

In the distance a book hitting the floor pulled them away from one another. He brushed his nose against mine before settling his forehead to hers as she caught her breath. "Well, how was your reward?"

"Worth the wait," he said, happily. "It will be your turn to ask for a kiss next time."

"Oh? You intend to make me beg you for a kiss?" The sound of her breathless voice made him want to kiss her more.

Dream smirked. "Beg? No. Not yet at least."

She tried to mask the sharp breath she took, tried and failed. The sound went straight to his gut, making him even harder than he already was. "You should know, Dream Lord, I'm not much of a beggar."

"A challenge?" He posed. "How refreshing."

Just as they stepped away from one another Lucienne returned with a stack of books in her arms. "Everything is just as I left it!"

"What are these?" He injured looking over the titles.

"A few volumes on soul bonds," she answered. "I figured you two would want to do some digging, seeing as this is the first record of this kind of pairing ever happening."

"Thank you, Lucienne." Penelope grabbed a book from her pile and sat down, leafing through the pages carefully

His eyes were on her, he couldn't look away. An urge overcame him, one he couldn't resist as he reached out to the warm softness of her mind. "Can you hear me?"

Shocked eyes flashed up to him from across the table. "I don't know, can you hear me?"

A grin spread on his lips as his eyes slid down to his book. "I can almost always hear you."

"This is new."

"Is it uncomfortable?" He hadn't exactly thought of what such an odd sensation it would be for her.

"No," she insisted. "I kind of like hearing your voice in my head."

He took a deep breath, attempting to cool the flame inside him. "Shall I repay the favor then? Give you a taste of what I've been enduring for the past day?"

"I have no clue what you're referring to, my Lord."

Eyes looked up from the book, gleaming with the challenge in her words. "Perhaps I should make you beg for a kiss, since you seem so persistent in trying to get a rise out of me."

She merely smiled, looking down at her book. "If I were trying to get a rise out of you I'd be thinking of much dirtier things."

"Like what?"

"The memories of you naked perhaps?" I bit my lip. "Or maybe your lips being put to better use than the pouting you do so often?"

If it was a game she wanted, Dream would play. He pushed the lust that filled him down their bond, nearly losing his composure at the gasp she made as she adjusted in her seat. He could practically feel her squeezing her thighs together trying to alleviate the sudden strong ache. Morpheus lowered his book just enough to watch her, desperate to see her. "Problem, my lady?"

"That's cheating, you ass."

Beside them Lucienne made a noise. Dream had forgotten she was here. "I’ve found something interesting, according to some reports, soul bound individuals might be able to communicate through your thoughts alone, how intriguing. Have either of you tried that?" They glanced at one another, her red cheeks redder than before as Lucienne shut her book and sighed. "You were just doing it weren't you?"

"Yes," he answered. "We were just… Testing the limits."

"You're going to end up right back in Hell for that," she said, but nearly laughed herself.

Lucienne had promptly excused herself, leaving the two to tease one another silently. Dream never wanted this to end. He wanted her beside him every second of forever, and the thought was more jarring than he expected. As the dim light of the sun began to set out the large windows Penelope sighed and he did in turn. It was time for both of them to return to their duties. "I should probably go home. Johanna is going to kill me for disappearing without warning."

Dream gently pulled her closer to him. "I'm sure Constantine will understand, given the circumstance."

"Understanding isn't exactly one of her strongest talents, especially since I’ve been gone for almost two full days.”

He pulled his pouch of sand from his coat, preparing himself to say goodbye, still unsure of if he intended for it to be the last. He wanted her, but some part of him still nagged at him, telling him it'd be best if he remained far away. "I shall keep you safe from her wrath then."

"You sure you know how to use that? Wouldn't want to get lost."

"You're not letting that go, are you?" He chuckled.

"Not anytime soon."

"Fret not, you won't get lost, not with me beside you," he replied, his hand pushing her tighter against him. "But you should still hold onto me."

She gathered the front of his coat in her hands, tugging a little. "Like this?"

"Perhaps a bit closer." He pulled her flush against him, her face close enough for another kiss.

"Better?" Her nose bumped his as her darkened hungry eyes looked up at him.

"Much." With his free hand he poured the sand and let it swirl around them.

As the sand fell away, revealing the dark office in the apartment, neither of them moved, dared to break apart. She smiled at him, eyes flashing to his lips. "Thank you for bringing me back."

His eyes did the same. "It was a pleasure to have you, at last, visit The Dreaming."

"I had a wonderful time. Your realm is spectacular."

Their hot breaths swirled together and the scent of her floral perfume made him lose any train of thought he might've had. "You are always welcome to return. Anytime you wish."

"Were you satisfied with your winning kiss, Dream of the Endless?"

"No." His voice was raw with need. "With you I doubt I ever will be."

Humming, she pulled on his coat more, either tugging him down or trying to pull herself up. "Maybe another will help?"

"Are you asking me to kiss you, Penelope?" He teased, expecting more of her usual snark.

Her eyes nearly closed and her perfect lips parted as she whispered a soft, "Please."

The plea caused whatever grip he had on himself to snap. All that remained was the absolute need to have her. His hand fisted into my hair, pulling back to his lips and into the all consuming kiss. He poured every ounce of himself into it, unable to do anything but touch her. Their tongues and teeth clashed and when her fingers ran through his hair, tugging, he moaned. I need more, he thought, taking two long strides and pinning her against the first piece of furniture he could. The wood scraped against the floor, pulling her back to look up at him. Her pupils were blown wide and her chest heaved.

He needed to feel her skin beneath his hands. Their eyes stayed locked as he pulled her dress up to her hips and he lifted her on top of the desk, ignoring any mess it causes. She gasped when he dragged his cold fingers down her legs until they pulled her legs further apart. He filled the space instantly, leaning over her, a small remnant of his self control returned and he said, "If you want to stop, you need to tell me."

If she wanted this to be as far as they went he needed to know because if it was he needed to leave, quickly before the pull became too strong for him to resist.

"I want more," she replied with a needy groan.

"More," he hummed, squeezing her thighs to keep himself from rushing. "How much more?"

Dream drank in the sight of her as he dragged his hands up under the silk and brushed against already wet panties she wore. Her sharp gasp filled the air between us as her hands pulled his hair. "All of you."

"As my lady commands." He ripped the fabric off her.

"What if I liked that pair?"

"I'll get you another." He rasped as his thumb sought out her clit with ease. Her hands fell to his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his coat, and her head fell back against the wall. Morpheus pressed an open mouthed kiss to her throat, moving slowly, savoring every second that he sucked and bit at the tender flesh. The sounds she made were far better than he ever could have imagined as his fingers worked her closer and closer to the pleasure he sought to drive her to.

He moved her hair away from her shoulder and pulled the sleeve of her dress down, latching his lips onto junction between her neck and shoulder and biting down hard. The moan that filled the room made his head swim and push his fingers down harder and moved faster. Penelope moved her hips against him, trying desperately to quicken the pace, but he would have none of that. He clamped his hand down onto her hip, squeezing tightly and stopping her movement. Her whine made him smile. "Don't get greedy now, my lady, just take what I give you."

With a loud huff she pulled his hair, lifting his head from its place and she whispered against his lips, "I wouldn't have to be greedy if you'd give me what I want, Dream Lord."

"Very well," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before dipping his fingers in between her soaking wet folds. He groaned at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers and he swallowed the wanton moan his movement pulled from her. He cupped her jaw, tilting her head back and exposed her delicate throat to him again. Her grip on his hair shifted to one as the other moved, using his shoulder as leverage to grind herself down onto his fingers. "Morpheus."

His eyes closed at the sound of his name on her lips. He needed to hear it again. Just as he moved to quicken the pace a voice from the door stopped him. God damn Constantine. He didn't hear what she said as he pulled his fingers away from the embarrassed Penelope.

"Johanna!"

Smirking, she held her hands up innocently. "Don't stop on my account, I just needed to grab this." She grabbed the hand crossbow and started out the door. "Glad you're not dead by the way! When you and your Sandman are finished I can give you a wallop for making me worry."

"Get out!" Penelope yelled.

"I'm going!" The door slid half closed behind her before she stuck her head back in. "Just a word of advice Sandman, she goes absolutely nuts if you-"

"JOHANNA!" She screamed, throwing the nearest object at the door just as it closed.

They looked at one another for a moment before she slumped against his shoulder, giggling softly. "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled, the need ebbing and the feel of her joy filling him. He rubbed her back soothingly. "Don't be, we probably should have checked to make sure we were alone before we engaged in our pleasantries."

"Pleasantries," she said, looking up at him. "Does that mean you enjoyed it?"

He chuckled at how oblivious she was to his desperate need for her. "Was there any doubt that I was enjoying myself?"

"No," She played with his coat, a tiny smidge of nervousness pinching inside her. "I just don't want you to regret anything."

“Regret?” He lifted her chin and pressed kiss to her lips. "I could not regret any moment spent with you.”

She pressed back, gently coaxing his mouth open and tangling her tongue with his. He could do this for eternity. "Does that mean you'll be back for another… Kiss?"

"Among other things, yes."

"When will I see you again?"

“Soon,” he assured her with one more kiss before he forced himself away, retrieving his pouch and pouring the sand into his palm, his eyes never leaving her. "Goodnight, Penelope."

"Goodnight, Morpheus."

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dear-mrs-otome · 2 years

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Dear Mrs. Ricc — Otome, I mean ~ Your description of sexy team story Silvio’s bit made me unable to breathe 😳 How can this asshole (lovingly) get anymore attractive????? If you could, would you please share more detailed summary? *Collecting all Silvio crumbs as a non-jp speaker 😭*

Sure, Nonny! Here's the whole story, irreverently rendered and nominally accurate.

------

After the ruckus about Day of the Beloved, Emma’s outside in the gardens where it suddenly begins POURING rain - sunny blue sky obliterated in an instant. She’s chatting with Luke, whom she ran into along the way, and he’s commiserating about the crappy weather before he suggests they try and find shelter somewhere nearby rather than try and make it all the way back to the castle in this deluge.

He takes his coat off and puts it over Emma to at least shield her a little from the rain, and he steers them towards the gazebo nearest to eke out some meager shelter - cheerfully brushing off her protests that he’ll get wet without his coat. She thanks him for the gesture, and thinks how considerate of him it is.

When they hustle to the gazebo though, they find some people already inside - Nokto and Silvio, who also ducked in to take shelter from the rain. Nokto’s got his jacket off, wringing water from it, and Silvio’s bitching about Nokto getting them caught out here even as Nokto’s sniping back that it was Silvio who was moaning about hating being inside the castle.

They’re both soaked to the bone as Emma points out (putting on her best ‘noble lady’ impression to keep up her story in front of Silvio) and Nokto’s just grinning that she and Luke are just as bad off as they are, especially Luke. Silvio seem impressed that Luke’s not just a tall guy, he works out a lot too.

Emma’s gotta admit to herself as she looks that Luke’s plastered wet clothing leaves little to the imagination, and it’s clearly true.

Luke turns it back around on Silvio with a grin though, and says him too - he might appear svelte but he’s got a lot of muscle. Silvio scoffs like, obvs…what’s a guy who sails on the regular gonna do with a scrawny body?? Emma can definitely see from his wet shirt that he’s got some niiiice proportions too.

Silvio then smirks that Nokto’s not exactly rippling with muscle, but Nokto’s nonplussed - he agrees he’s no beefcake but he DOES train still. Emma’s professional ‘wet shirt assessment’? Thin, but taut.

Then she mentally slaps herself like NO BAD BRAIN what are we thinking about right now?! It’s a bit overwhelming, manflesh on display plus the scent of the rain and cedar and everything else - they’re all three pretty damn sexy and she’s having a hard time looking (or not looking) at them, frankly.

They’re interrupted by someone’s voice, all pitched falsetto like a bad impression of her own. “Nokto and Luke and Silvio are all dressed so shamelessly, it’s hard to take my eyes off of them!” With a bad feeling, she turns to see Jin and Clavis coming into the gazebo too, all grins.

She’s sputtering that that’s NOT what she was thinking, but Clavis just laughs and tells her not to be shy, she’s got the creme de la creme of sexy princes all gathered in one spot here. Jin’s doing fake-Emma voice as he says, “Jin and Clavis are also soooo sexy!”

She’s begging Jin to please cut it out with the fake high voice, but he says he’s just speaking for her heart - and now CLAVIS goes on again all ‘Staaahhhp it’s so embarrassing to say that aloud - but also Jin aren’t you gonna take your clothes off??’ (please i can’t with these two I was laughing so hard here)

Jin of course just says, it can’t be helped if she wants he’ll just have to show off his male pride here too, and Emma’s thinking KDLFJSKDL WHAT IS WITH THESE PEOPLE as Jin seizes the slightest encouragement from Clavis’ fake-Emma urging to whip off his wet vest - gotta undo a button or two too, for good measure, to Emma’s dismay.

She’s having a REAL hard time finding somewhere safe to look right now - even looking at Clavis isn’t innocent, given the beguiling vision he makes with his wet clothes and his hair dripping with rain. Jin’s got that hard body, well-trained like Luke, but Clavis’ clothes are so well-tailored they make the most of every line of his body, even when NOT wet. Slender but taut, much like Nokto. (Clearly no flabby slackers in the bunch here lollll)

She’s gotta mentally slap herself a second time now too, that her mind’s been wandering in Gutterville, but Clavis immediately picks up on her bright red face and teases her about being overwhelmed by his abundant hawtness - which she quickly tells him he’s just imagining.

Jin wonders if it’s HIS forbidden charms then that have her all aflutter, and Nokto’s giving her a hard time about being a dirty girl seeing them all wet and getting hot and bothered by it. Poor Emma’s just flailing that that’s NOT IT!

It’s Luke that steps in and tells them to lay off pestering her, and she’s thinking gratefully how Luke’s the only one here on her side as she scoots closer to him - away from the dangerous other princes. Secure in the knowledge that he’d protect her no matter what.

Silvio scoffs that they’re all really stupid - and she’s surprised to think that Silvio of all people might be an ally.

Only for him to ruin that idea a half second later when he declares confidently that not a one of them can hold a candle to HIS sexiness.

Yeah, no, she thinks. He's totally on the same side as Jin and Clavis.

He proudly proclaims that he's the reason her face is all red, and Clavis is like ohhh? A challenger appears eh? You seem pretty sure you can beat me, Silvio.

Silvio says definitely, no way he's gonna lose to Clavis' lack of appeal. Jin counters that everybody knows the princes of Rhodolite are famous for being hotties, nobody can argue that.

Nokto' just sorta rolling his eyes over all this posturing - he's clearly the sexiest. Clavis says if he's gonna claim that, does that mean he's gonna take part in this little competition?

Nokto declines, and he's trying to make a break for it but Clavis stops him with a hand on his shoulder - and Jin does the same to Luke, saying of COURSE Luke is going to do his country proud right??

Luke relents a little, if Jin says so, and Emma's thinking noooooo they got to Luke too 😭 Clavis declares that they'll award the title of Sexy Prince to whichever of them can make Emma blush the most…much to her chagrin.

She's steeling herself to not let even a hint of anything show on her face, as Clavis lays out the rules - no getting handsy, that's not gentlemanly at all, but anything else is fair game to try and charm Emma.

No THANK YOU, she tries to say, but she's totally overridden by Silvio stepping up to go first since he's got nothing better to entertain himself with. Emma, for her part, can't believe they're going through with this idiotic game.

Silvio suddenly starts in with a, hey woman. Look at me.

She was trying to avoid doing so but he reaches out and takes her chin, turning her gaze to meet his. Maybe because of the rain making his hair wet, his already handsome face looks even more alluring despite the haughty cast of it. She can practically hear him saying 'I'm the sexiest' all confidently.

But she's too annoyed at the thought of just admitting that aloud all honestly, so she turns her gaze away defiantly…a mistake though because now she's stuck peeping down at his body in the wet shirt. He really does have amazing muscles, now that she's up close enough to see well, and she's trying to wrap her head around how even a prince needs a body like that to go out to sea.

Looking to get back at him a little for his bullying, she reaches out and pokes one of those drenched pecs - only for Silvio to yeet himself away from her, red as a tomato as he's spluttering for her to knock that off.

Nokto's laughing his ass off that it's Silvio who turned red, not Emma. Clavis thinks this is hilarious too, pointing out that Emma has the upper hand here.

She kind of sheepishly apologizes to Silvio, surprised by how surprised HE seemed. But Silvio, still blushing, is cursing and says he's gonna call her a shameless hussy from now on.

You touched me first! she counters indignantly, but he doesn't wanna hear it - insists that it's okay for him to do so but not her.

She's fuming over what a tyrant he is when Jin cuts off their bickering before it can devolve into another of their never-ending quarrel, proclaiming it his turn to show off the eldest's charms.

She takes a step back as she gets a wall o' tiddies in her face, and on a grin Jin says she's free to touch his irresistible body allll she wants. He'll even take his shirt off -

Emma cuts him off hastily, assuring him it's fine just the way it is!

His heaving bosom of generous mantiddies is eyecatching, exuding a different sort of sexy from Silvio's. His poor soaked shirt fighting a losing battle to keep them contained. It's almost a bit too much though, and aloud she points out to Jin that he's gonna pop some buttons with just the slightest flex.

Luke and Clavis kinda snorting at that, and Nokto point out to wouldn't be the first time he's done something like that. Unrepentant Jin says ya, he just has some buxom maid fix it for him then - shirts don't stand a chance against his overwhelming level of sexy.

Silvio points that's just sheer beef, don't mistake it for attractiveness - and look at Emma's face, she doesn't exactly seem like she's into it.

Clavis laughs that they've got a tough audience here, but he's ready to avenge his elder brother's death. He moves Jin aside and steps up - closer than anyone else so far, despite his demeanor being the most gentlemanly. He rakes his wet hair back, giving her the smolder, and she can't deny she's affected at least a teensy bit. Clavis always has the bedroom eyes, so up close like this they're even more overpowered.

Maybe because she knows it’s all hollow though it’s got no real pull on her, and as Clavis prompts her for her opinion on his superior appeal, asking whether she’s intoxicated by him…she gives him a pretty noncommittal answer. And it’s crickets as the silence stretches on (Emma clearly feeling nada) until Clavis is just….Well? Nothing?

She asks what else there is to say or do (you can practically hear the deflating ego from here LMAO poor Clavis, we just witnessed a murder) and frankly, he’s too close so please step back.

Nokto bursts out laughing as he pushes the dumbfounded Clavis out of the way, and he grins that Emma’s a tougher nut to crack than he’d thought. Luke theorizes that she’s just too used to Clavis’ MO, as Jin tries to cheer him up and tells Clavis that HE’S proud of Clavis’ sexiness.

Silvio points out that Jin’s not actually comforting him at all…and Emma does feel a little bad for Clavis, who seems to still be frozen in disbelief.

If both brothers 1 and 2 have crashed and burned, Nokto says, then it’s up to him and Luke to defend Rhodolite’s honor. Luke says he doesn’t think he’s got any sex appeal, he’s been sitting this out from the very start…but Nokto proclaims he doesn’t have any doubts about HIS because it all comes down to pleasing a lady properly AKA in bed.

He’s throwing Emma a come hither glance, making a sexy show out of wiping away the raindrop sliding down his cheek. She’s gotta admit to herself that just like the others, Nokto has his own brand of je ne sais quoi. Everything his says and does manages to come across as an innuendo or vaguely lewd. Silvio’s got that sexiness of a man of the sea, Jin has that raw unbridled masculinity, Clavis has the enigmatic appeal of a mystery that’s hard to define….but Nokto has the manwhore ladykiller down pat.

Nokto’s confident smirk falters a bit as she just stares back at him though, and he pouts that she’s starting to make looking at him with disdain a habit of hers. She agrees that she looks at him pretty icily, but Nokto (trying to make lemons outta lemonade, gotta give him props for optimism) he tries to turn this into a positive - that means she feels something right?? She wouldn’t bother leveling a cold look at someone she really cared NOTHING about, right? She’s desperately trying not to give in to her feelings and fall for him, clearly.

Clavis, Luke, and Jin all in perfect unison call this out as the bullshit excuse making that it is - and Emma thinks that she’s gotta agree. Nokto’s frowning over how hard everyone’s being on him.

Silvio’s laughing like, sucks to be you man - and then he calls out to Luke as the big slab of beef. Is he really not gonna do anything either? Luke seems surprised, and Clavis chips in to say that if they’ve all been wounded Luke should step up and take the blow to his ego too.

Luke says there’s no honor in THAT, this is crazy…but Emma speaks up then and leaves everyone dumbstruck when she says that she thinks Luke’s already very sexy just as he is. Luke’s like, really? And she says ya - giving him the once over, her eyes snagged on the water droplets running down his pecs. When put with his laid-back attitude, there’s a certain something she finds very attractive just looking at him. It’s sexy because it is so effortless.

Clavis, frowning, says wait - isn’t Emma being suspiciously nice to Luke? Jin says he’s clearly getting different treatment compared to the rest of them, and Nokto agrees she’s treating them like pests by contrast.

She protests that she didn’t mean to do that…and Silvio states that it’s pointless to care anyways, even if she did it’s not like Luke really charmed her to the point of winning anyways. Luke asks if that means this silly battle is over - clearly there’s no ‘Sexy Prince’ to be crowned here.

Right about then, Emma lets out a sneeze, freezing now that Luke’s jacket has gotten sodden and water has soaked through it, getting her clothes wet and chilling her now. She takes the jacket off only to find that her dress is now as wet, if not WETTER, than the princes now. Apologetic, turns to Luke, saying how sorry she is that his jacket is all wet now…but he’s only gaping at her in shock, for some reason.

Bemused, she offers to wash it and give it back…her words trailing off awkwardly as she realizes ALL of the princes are gawking at her, wide-eyed. Until she finally asks them, what??? They’re all staring, and it’s Nokto who breaks the stunned silence to comment on how she’s wearing a different outfit than usual. She agrees, she’d changed into something a little lighter so she didn’t get hot going on her walk around the castle, just before it had started raining. She’s wearing a simpler dress than usual, a little white lace number.

And then slowly it sinks in to her.

White dress. Rain.

With a sinking feeling, she looks down at herself and sees that her dress is both plastered to her every curve AND because it’s white, is practically see through now - showing off her skin and underwear beneath.

With a shriek of horror, she dives behind Luke, the biggest of them all, trying to use his body as cover to hide behind. Luke doesn’t hesitate to hold his arms out and try to block as much of her from the view of the other princes as possible, assuring her it’s okay they only saw a little bit.

Clavis, soberly, apologizes. He says it was their folly to think they could claim the title of Sexy Prince, and Jin has to agree with chagrin - there’s no way this level of sexiness can be beat. Silvio, back to beet red, is telling her to just put a jacket on for the time being, shameless hussy that she is.

Congratulations, Nokto tells her, she’s won the championship. He wonders aloud what the winner gets then, and Clavis suggests they give Emma the title of ‘Sexy Princess’.

She sputters a THANKS BUT NO THANKS…and then, at the height of her misery, the rain suddenly stops and the sun peeks out again. As if the clouds had never existed at all. Jin jokes that her sexiness drove the very clouds away, and Clavis has to agree that she’s on another level entirely. Silvio grumbles over the time spent on all this nonsense, and Nokto suggests they all head back to the castle finally.

It was beyond embarrassing, being gifted a title like ‘Sexy Princess’...buuuut she can’t in the end say that it was a bad thing, taking such lively shelter from the rain.

#mrs o talks #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #ikepri jp summary

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