#natural nail reinforcement | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mothhball · 2 months

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Positive Reinforcement

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged

Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.

Words | 6.2k

Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol

Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.

Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.

But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?

Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.

But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.

“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.

The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.

A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.

“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”

You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.

“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”

“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”

This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?

“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.

“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”

Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.

Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.

"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"

His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.

"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"No. Because I know what you'll choose."

"Then I'm not doing it."

Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.

"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.

"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.

Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”

Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?

“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.

“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”

The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.

Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.

“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”

“But I need to. You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.

“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”

“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.

“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”

Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”

The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.

“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.

“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”

“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.

“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”

“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.

“I mean it.”

He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.

“Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.

“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.

Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.

“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.

“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.

Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.

You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.

“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.

“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.

“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”

You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.

After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.

“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”

You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.

“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”

You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.

Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.

“You okay?”

“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.

“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.

Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.

“What?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.

“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”

He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.

“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”

It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.

“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”

“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.

“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.

“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.

You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.

His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.

“Jonathan…”

For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.

“Fuck – “

“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.

Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.

Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.

“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”

Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.

Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”

You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.

Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.

You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.

“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“C… can you – “

“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”

You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.

“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”

Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”

You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.

“There we go… stretched open so well.”

You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.

Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.

"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.

"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."

Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.

"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"

You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.

"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."

You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.

The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.

“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.

“N… no…” you whine

“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”

“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.

“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”

“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “

“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”

And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.

“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.

For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.

“I love you…”

“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #smut #.moth writes

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astaroth1357 · 2 months

Text

So. As something of a connoisseur of depictions of the 7 Deadly Sins in media, I was just mulling over FMAB and thought, “I don’t know if anyone as crossed this over with OM before, but that would actually be kinda fire though.”

Like, imagine each of the brothers with the destructive powers of their respective Homunculi.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer coming off as the most normal at first, until MC catches how his shadow bends and curves to avoid harsh light. They swear they sometimes hear him chuckling in the dark corners of the House, but they never actually find him anything there when they check. Red eyes reveal themselves in unlit rooms and follow them through the halls, all the while they keep wondering how he always seems to know where they are whenever he's away…

Mammon hardening his skin to be tougher than diamond, then using it to reinforce his claws and smoothly cut a perfect circle into glass display case. Him letting himself get punched when things don’t matter, but instantly hardening his cheek to break the assailant's hand whenever he starts getting serious. Or literally using his body to protect MC from harm as their first man and loyal shield.

Leviathan having a MASSIVE aquatic beast form that he shoves into a normal sized body, making him feel even more distant to others. Using transformations to regularly make himself look like his favorite anime characters/idols since he can’t stand the thought of looking at his true form. Yet, he still has that conservation of mass going, so he can simultaneously look like a 12 year-old girl and kick a car down the street like a soccerball.

Satan using his gifted sight to become an absolute force of nature. Not just a mere brute, but a sophisticated and effective killing machine with the wit and reflexes to mow down entire armies before breaking a sweat. Never blinded by fury, but harnessing his rage behind every inescapable strike. Him silently vowing that any threat to MC or his family will barely get to finish a thought before he's cut them down with precision and grace.

Asmodeus mostly using his extending nails for glorious manicures, but not being afraid to pierce the heart or lungs of anyone he doesn’t much like. He hears an incubus talking shit from a few tables down and stabs a hole through the jerk's skull while never looking away from his milkshake. His fights with Mammon getting 1000 times more destructive as his razor sharp claws bounce off his brother's skin and dig into the walls and furniture. The only thing he hates about them are how long it takes to scrub the blood off his nails afterwards.

*silently contemplates the possibility of Beel ripping himself in half to reveal a nightmarish second “stomach” capable of sucking anything into a blood-filled pocket dimension of which there is no light, hope, or escape* … Okay, moving on.

And of course, for those unaware FMAB Sloth could run at like the speed of sound which was threatening because he was also a behemoth. However, Belphie probably weights 125 pounds when wet, so… I admittedly get a giggle at the idea of him giving Lucifer a speed-of-light drop kick from across the House. That is probably all he would use it for, too. Him just getting those horns out and going into ramming speed… What a menace

Bonus: Wonder what kind of alchemist Solomon would be? 🤔

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twis-world · 24 days

Text

The Remedy That Is You (Leona Version)

Mentions: Leona-Centric, Fluff, Second Person, Gender Neutral Read, Pretty Used As A Gender Neutral Term

No matter how many a time the students of Nightraven College witnessed how their Housewarden did a complete 180 in your presence, it never ceased to amaze them.

It eventually got to the point where a majority of students began to question if you really were magickless. There was just no way your mere presence could bring out such light in their eyes, face softening and a smile so tender it was as if they were gazing upon one of the Seven.

Just how did you do it?

Leona

Everything was so grating.

Leona didn’t know what it was, truthfully. The moment he awoke feeling a little too warm with too painfully bright sun rays flooding into his room, he knew it would be a bad day. His usual favorite meat tasting off during breakfast, the usual bustle of his dorm aggravating his sensitive ears, the utter lack of energy he felt to even move. It was irritating.

The leech in his room made it no better.

“Leona!” Ruggie huffed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, expression one of pure and utter exasperation. The veins in hands were bulging from the other strength it was taking to continuously pull at the other’s vest, a poor attempt at trying to get Leona to budge if not just a little. “We already talked about this. I don’t care if you miss half the day, but you can’t miss today's test! Professor Crewel is going to skin you alive after all the weeks of prep!”

“Quit it” Leona growled, brows furrowing as he swiped at Ruggie’s hands, not bothering to open his eyes once. “You’re going to stretch out my clothes.”

“What? The crown prince can’t be bothered to get new ones?” Ruggie strained, ignoring the demand as he continued to pull. “You would make me go out and get them for you anyways…”

Realizing that his efforts were in vain, the hyena released the fabric with a loud sigh before turning to the open doorway. “Where are our reinforcements?!”

Leona didn’t bother to listen to whatever response was shouted in return, shifting to a new position now that the offending hands were off of him. He shoved his face into his pillow, flopping from his side onto his stomach. The cool fabric felt nice on his face compared to the natural warmth of the dorm, a soothing balm to the stress of the bothersome day.

Well, it was nice until he sensed another presence entering his room just a minute later. His tail flicked in noticeable irritation, anger beginning to brew within his gut. What wasn’t getting through these imbeciles' heads? Was he actually going to have to knock some sense into them all? The idea didn’t sound too bad, especially if he could get his irritation out in some way…

Before he could spiral further into such dark thoughts a familiar touch ran down his hair. Gentle fingers easily detangling knots with such care that his own body relaxed without his permission. It was almost scary how easily his vessel recognized the touch of his other half, his herbivore without even having to lay eyes on them. Their scent just as effortlessly soothed his aching mind, turning his brain into mush without a thought to fight back.

He hadn’t even realized he began purring until your chuckles filled the air, smile unflinching when he finally opened his eyes to glare at you. “I don’t recall telling you to stop,” he mumbled, words muffled with one side of his face practically smothered.

“Someones grumpy today,” you teased, resuming your ministrations. You made sure your nails just barely scratched his scalp, amusement shining in your eyes at how the rumbles in his chest grew. He refused to answer, instead trying to drown himself in the pleasure your loving hand gave him. It was childish, yes, but this was so much better than whatever lecture you were sure to give him. It took that blissful hand lightly pinching one of his ears for his eyes to shoot open and give you his full attention with an almost genuine glare. “Nu-uh mister. Time to get out of bed. You’ve given Ruggie enough grief for a whole lifetime just about now.”

“I didn't ask him to be my babysitter,” he responded with an eye roll. “Such an unnecessary nuisance.”

“Hey, be nice.” Another pinch to his ear resulted in a growl, but you showed no fear as you stared down at him. “He’s looking out for you, cause seven knows that if it weren’t for him you would have long since become a hermit. Worse than Idia.”

A smirk grew on his face, huffing as he finally began to sit up. “When did my herbivore become so insulting.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Ever since I got dragged away from my beloved lunch just to get your lazy butt out of bed.” You continued to stare him down for a few seconds before your face softened. “Are you okay? I know you have your days sometimes but never enough for Ruggie to send for me.” A few moments of silence passed. “...that’s a lie, I mean not enough for Ruggie to send several lackeys dragging me kicking and screaming with no explanation other than panicked gibberish.”

Leona huffed a small laugh but you didn’t get to see much of it before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight embrace, one you didn’t hesitate to embrace. A small laugh escaped you when he nuzzled into your neck, soft ears tickling your skin. The smug grin you felt growing on his face as well didn’t escape your notice, but you paid it no mind as you once again began petting his hair. “Everything just feels too bothersome today, nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

“You sure?” You replied softly, staring at the wall behind him in thought. “I wouldn’t mind writing to Professor Crewel to give you an extension. I know you have an important test today.”

It was his turn to laugh, pulling away from your neck but still keeping contact with you. Hands softly squeezed your hips, and he sighed as he gently laid his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your gaze. “Such a good little herbivore, breaking the rules for me.” He laughed once more at the obvious flush growing up your neck, slowly spreading to your face as you glanced everywhere but him. Adorable. “Nah,” he started, returning his face to your neck and tightening his grip on you. “Just give me a bit. I want to enjoy you just a little longer.”

The flustered scolding you gave him just furthered his amusement, but he decided to give some mercy and instead decided to remain in content silence. One you held to objection too.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad day after all.

#twisted wonderland #x reader #gender neautral reader #fluff #x gender neutral reader #disney twisted wonderland #leona #leona kingscholar #leona twst #leona kingsholar x reader #leona twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #gender neutral reader

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bunnyreaper · 4 months

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Demon Gaz, who's looking for a pretty little plaything to corrupt. Maybe a priests daughter, or someone who (somehow) has never sinned before.

hopefully you enjoy this crime against christianity <3 cw dubcon, religion.

looking like such an angel, kyle finds his job incredibly easy. his beautiful brown eyes look like they're incapable of hiding a single sinful thought, never mind an entirely devilish being.

his smile is so bright the local god-fearing women think it could ward off any ill fate that could befall the town--if only they knew the reason for their downfall was their darling local charmer.

you and kyle had been friends for a while now, he was new in town and took a shine to you immediately when you sat next to him in church one day.

from that moment on, he knew that he would make you his.

it was easy to get you alone, under the guise of bible study, of reinforcing your father's teachings. the sessions started with quiet, companionable reading. kyle would keep you company, answer simple questions you had, and ask you about your life.

no boys, no parties, no sin.

he couldn't ask for a prettier, more innocent little thing to corrupt.

your descent started slowly, in a way he couldn't have even planned. he didn't have to seek you out, as you followed him around like a lost lamb, unknowingly leading itself to slaughter. you tried to spend as much time with him as possible, obsessed with the way he looked at you like no one had before.

you could sense his desire, even if you thought it to be something simple and innocent--the kind of love and admiration your parents' marriage was built from, the kind of devotion you had for your god.

you had no idea of the lust that lay within--the corrupting, all-consuming need. kyle garrick was a selfish man, used to turning girls like you on their heads and feeding off their sins before moving on to the next.

something about you was different.

perhaps it was because he'd never met one so pure and untainted, or maybe it was because, unlike the others, you had no sense of self-preservation. it could be that you always had this look in your eyes like you wouldn't really mind if kyle led you astray, you'd follow him anyway. that was something he quickly became addicted to.

the poking and questioning followed soon after, kyle subtly guiding you to question the gospel, your father, and everything you've ever known, all for him. he pretended to struggle with his faith too, though he supposed it wasn't a lie, as once upon a time he had.

you were quick to follow, enamored by your guardian angel in every way, believing he could never steer you wrong.

after all, questioning is normal, natural, why we were given free will--that's what kyle always says. and with the sweet way he says it, so earnest and everything... there's no way the two of you are doing anything wrong.

so when he pulls you into his lap one day, bible in hand, you don't question it. when he asks your interpretation on a particular verse, and leads you to a certain conclusion, you don't question it.

when he takes you on a walk through the churchyard flowers and kisses you under the flower-filled pergola, lips against yours like he's devouring you, you don't question it.

from there, the rest is easy. coaxing you into sneaking out late at night, straight into his arms, getting you to give up your vow of chastity, your commitments to the church, your devotion to god.

instead, you worship him. his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he drives inside you, taking you for him forever. spoiling you for other men, breaking all your oaths.

he stretches you out, shapes you to him, claims you with his cock, his cum, his fingers, the way his nails scraping down your body carves his name into your soul.

you cry out for him when your pretty mouth is on the end of his cock, you cry out for him when he's gone--tears beading in your eyes either way.

and when they try to take you away from kyle, to make you 'see the light',

all the lessons you've been taught about vengeance and grace fall away, and you search for a new beginning--disavowing your church, your family, your upbringing.

and with your fall complete, when it's time for kyle to skip town? there's no way in hell he could leave you behind.

#bunny mail #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #kyle garrick fanfic

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strangernstranger · 1 year

Text

What Could’ve Been

Eddie x Fem Reader (request)

Summary: You and Eddie decide you’re ready to start your own little family but when complications halt your efforts, you worry how your husband will react. (18+ Infertility struggles. Smut just below the read more line. Slight breeding kink. Lots of angst. Hurt/Comfort.)

———

Things were pretty set in stone with you and Eddie. Settled in your new apartment with a little gold ring on your finger in your sleepy hometown of Hawkins. Your wild nights spent on the banks of Lover’s lake, making out between sips from a bottle had turned into quiet mornings, tangled up on the couch. Groggy forehead kisses and fresh coffee while nestled under blankets. Pure, domestic bliss. Somehow, you reigned in the wild haired delinquent you had loved since high school. But to Eddie, you were always the catch.

Even with your rebellious natures quelled by marriage and adulthood, the flame shared between you still burned white hot…

“Ah- Eddie!” You moaned which only served to reinforce the motion of your husband’s hips. Fluid strokes grazing a sweet spot that made your core tighten and clench around his erection, growing harder from the sensation. You tore loose your grip on the sheets to trail your nails down Eddie’s flexed and arching back. Thin, rosy, ribbons rising to his otherwise pale skin. A low growl surfaced as a smirk formed around his open mouth.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart? Can’t take it?” He teased. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?” He perked up his brows and pursed his lips in a mock pout as he teased you. He knew the answer. But he wanted to hear you say it. He idled his thrusts, pulling out just enough to make you whine for more.

“No! Please! Please don’t stop!” Your words were quick. Desperate. “Keep going.” You wrapped your legs tightly around his midsection. You craved him. With an amused chuckle, he pinned your wrists over your head before sinking back into you slowly.

“I love it when you beg.” He praised. Your thighs trembled against his waist at the sound of his rasped voice. His rhythmic thrusts increased in speed. Eyes rolled back as you gasped and moaned, totally at his mercy. Eddie buried his face into the crook on your neck. His plush lips brought chills as they trailed fevered kisses below your ear and across your jawline. Stray strands of his long, dark hair tickled the skin over your breasts and collarbones. “You want me to fuck a baby in you, don’t you.” He was devilish in the most appealing way. Your hands flexed above your head, still subdued by Eddie’s grasp. Your dialated eyes fluttered at the thought. He knew the right words to use to make your brain short circuit. You were so close, a response was fizzled out before it ever reach your tongue. “Don’t get shy on me now, Sweetheart. Do you want me to stop again?” Pathetic whimpers were all you could stress as you thrashed your head from side to side against the pillow. You needed him to continue. “Not good enough.” His voice was growing strained. You could feel his movements growing more rigid. He was on the brink, holding off only to hear your plea. “Do you want me to cum for you? C’mon, use your words.”

“YES! Please, Eddie!” Almost on command, his hips bucked deep in a stuttering motion. You held each other through shaky breaths and uncontained moans, riding out the mind numbing release.

Sure, it was heat of the moment dirty talk born of Eddie’s depraved brain (which you loved.) But it rattled around your head even after the context was gone.

“Your hands are so small!” Eddie gawked, sizing his palm up to yours, still naked in the afterglow. You laughed as you moved your tiny fingers to fill the spaces between his. Comparatively different, but still fitting together perfectly. Typically by this point, your eyes would be blinking slow, heavy lids tempting you into sleep while wrapped in Eddie’s arms. But instead they were focused with a contemplative look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eddie inquired, nearly blushing at the expression. Funny how he’s learned your body better than you had but you still had the ability to fluster him with only your eyes.

“Just thinking.” You answered sheepishly.

“I can see that but what are you thinking about?”

“About what it would be like to have a baby?” You nervously squinted your eyes together, unsure of what to expect from Eddie’s response. You were on the pill. This was the first time the notion of a family was ever mentioned. You were both so comfortable with your current dynamic. Just the two of you in your cozy apartment. Living for only each other. What if he wasn’t receptive of the idea? After all, you were kinda springing this on him. What if thoughts of pregnancy and conception only existed in Eddie’s brain when sex was a factor? “Forget I said anything!” You flung the covers over your head to shield yourself from his potential judgment. Eddie smirked, reaching his hand under the covers and sliding it down your torso. You thought he was signaling for round two but when his warm, callused hand rested just over your belly, it surprised you even more.

“I think about it all the time. I think about how cute you’d be with a little bump or how sweet it’d be to see you hold a little baby on your hip.” You slowly began pulling the covers off your head. “I wonder if they’d have your eyes…I think about it a lot actually.”

“You do?” You weren’t sure why it surprised you so much but it did in the most delightful way. “Do you think we should…try?”

“To have a baby?” His puppy dog eyes peered into you with a certain hopefulness, giving him an innocent appearance despite what the two of you had just done. You nodded in a bashful manner, your smile growing wider with Eddie’s “Wait, are you serious? You think we’re ready for that? I mean, I think we’re ready but…you really wanna try?”

“Yea, I think I do.”

———

Months went by. Anticipation sparked on every cycle only to be met with disappointment as soon as your period came. High hopes slowly began to be suffocated by cruel cynicism. Eddie tried his best to be optimistic and inspire you into a positive outlook. Stating things like ‘it takes time’ and ‘when it’s right, it will happen.’ But as time progressed so did the gut feeling that something was wrong. You didn’t tell Eddie you were seeing a specialist. For the most part you kept your concerns to yourself. He never saw the way you’d cry over the negative tests behind closed doors. He kept a sense of blind faith about the situation while you obsessively wondered why?

“Mrs. Munson…” The doctor dipped her head at you and spoke through a tight lipped, sympathetic smile to try and ease a painful truth. You were infertile. The doctor’s explanation of her findings bled with the humming in your ears. Both contributing to a dreadful drone as the realization hit that you would never birth a child of your own. You’d likely never see eyes the color of yours staring back at you. A miniature smile passed down from the man you loved, peering up at you as if thanking you for providing life. The dream of a family of your own died on impact. How would you ever break the news to Eddie? He was just as excited as you, if not more. Already thinking of names despite never having a positive test. He was so sure it would happen for you both. Now with your own heavy heart, you were tasked with the impossible responsibility of breaking his. This wasn’t a situation to take lightly. What if he didn’t want to be with you anymore? What you shared was wonderful, but if never given the option to progress, it stood the chance of losing Eddie’s interest. He made it very clear he wanted to be a father. What if that took importance over all you were and all you could offer?

———

Tinsels hung off the artificial evergreen in Wayne’s living room while you checked the turkey browning in the oven. Your family with Eddie was small, consisting of the three of you, but you still put in the effort to make the holidays feel joyful and fulfilling. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist was you stirred a pot on the stove.

“Taste.” You blew the spoon and cupped your hand beneath it to catch any kind of drip. Eddie lowered his head and raised his brows at the taste.

“Oh my God that’s good! You’re working yourself to death though. Come sit down for a little bit.” Your husband lowered the heat on the burner and ushered you back to the living room. The heat in your cheeks from standing over the stoved cooled as you took a seat on the couch with Eddie. He pulled your legs over his lap as he made idle conversation with Wayne who was sat in his recliner. The lights of the tree gleamed brightly while frost clung to the windows. Typically, this was your favorite time of year but this year it carried a heaviness. The weight of the doctor’s findings and the nagging reminder you had yet to tell Eddie took precedence over any spirit you had. You thought it best to wait til after New Years to tell him. You didn’t want to ruin the holidays for him too.

“So how long ‘til we eat?” The delicious smell encompassing the trailer had Wayne’s stomach rumbling. You grabbed Eddie’s arm to check the time with his watch.

“Aboouuut forty minutes left on the turkey.”

“How ‘bout we open gifts while we wait? Hm?” Wayne was desperate for some sort of distraction from the thought of the feast you had been preparing for them.

———

Crinkled paper and ribbons littered the carpet of the quant living room. Only a few gifts still remained under the tree.

“Here’s another one from Eddie.” Wayne smiled, reading the tag before handing it over to you. The box was small and lightweight. You wagged your brows as you shook it lightly, trying to gage Eddie’s reaction.

“Stop messing around, open it.” He chuckled. You peeled back the paper and popped open the box, retrieving a baby’s onesie. “I KNOW, I know, we said no buying clothes til after we have the baby but I saw this in the shop and couldn’t help myself. It’s unisex so we can use it for a boy or a girl!” Eddie couldn’t mask his excitement, hoping you loved it just as much as he did. It was soft and colored a dark shade of blue with a stars a moon pattern. You touched the the little feet of the garment gingerly. It was adorable. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes. At first Eddie thought they were happy tears but you were quick to excuse yourself.

“It’s great, Eddie. Thank you. Could you give me a minute?” You stood up and walked to the back of the trailer, not wanting either man to see you cry. Eddie’s puppy dog eyes followed your every step. Did he do something wrong?

———

You sat on the bed which used to be Eddie’s in what was now Wayne’s room. His hats hung on the wall, finally finding a proper home. You wiped your sweaty palms on the quilted bedspread as tears dropped to the onesie laid across your lap. Eddie peaked his head inside. He watched you briefly as you cried silently. He felt terrible.

“Are you mad at me?” He spoke softly.

“No, I’m not mad.” Your voice was almost a whisper, eyes still pinned on the plush piece a clothing.

“Then what’s wrong?” He sat down beside you on the bed, throwing an arm around you. You didn’t see reason in drawing things out any longer. You sighed deeply.

“I saw a doctor, Eddie…she said I can’t have kids.” Eddie remained silent, letting the news sink in. He felt something deep inside pinch. It felt like a knife to the gut. But majority of the pain he felt was for you. How long had you kept this from him? Suffering in silence. Likely blaming yourself. He wanted to be a dad some day, but more than anything he wanted to see you as a mom. You were naturally nurturing and had so much love to give, already loving a child that was now merely a figment of your imaginations.

“Are you mad at me?” His heart broke at your question.

“Of course not, Sweetheart. It’s not your fault.”

“But it IS! I’m the reason you’ll never be a dad! I’m the reason we’ll never have a family!”

“Will you stop being so hard on yourself? It’s not like we control these kinds of things. And it’s not like that’s our only option. There’s adoption, fostering. Even if none of that pans out, you and Wayne are all the family I need. You are the absolute light of my life Y/N. And nothing will ever change that.” Eddie pulled you closer, tears finding their way to him as well. You rested your head against his chest. You allowed yourselves a moment to grieve for what could’ve been as you both stared at the empty onesies stretched across your legs.

“It’s so unfair.” You sniffled, tracing a moon shape on the fabric.

“I know sweetheart. I know.”

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson hurt/comfort

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rants-of-rae · 2 years

Text

Kenobi: Skywalker’s Only Hope

Let’s talk about Anakin’s final “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope” as seen (as I will argue) in the final episode of Obi-Wan Kenobi (Part VI) [spoiler warning!]

During their final duel of Kenobi (Pt VI), Obi-Wan is able to (literally) crack Vader’s facade. Behind the helmet, he sees Anakin. He calls his name, too stunned to do anything else.

Vader looks at him and tells him that “Anakin is gone.”

Yet as Obi-Wan cries and apologizes to Anakin, we see the facade crack more as we catch a glimpse of Anakin, tortured emotions across his face.

Vader then says something very surprising. He says “I am not your failure, Obi-Wan. You didn’t kill Anakin Skywalker. I did.”

This is significant for two reasons. 1) it’s a callback to Mustafar (“I have failed you, Anakin, I have failed you”) and 2) this is also, arguably, a sliver of Anakin here — whether it’s a desperate move by the suppressed Anakin to assuage Obi-Wan’s guilt or is simply (Anakin’s) self-loathing and self-hatred, which are also canonically emotions that fueled Vader, is up to you.

The brief raw emotional vulnerability quickly fades, however, and Vader is back to threatening Obi-Wan, who finally comes to the conclusion that Anakin is well and truly gone, and decides to leave him, turning his back on him as he had done on Mustafar.

But the thing is, Vader can’t keep going on without Kenobi. The passion he has for Kenobi- whatever nature that may be- fuels Vader’s power. As Obi-Wan walks away, Vader cries out to him, calling his name twice.

The fact that he calls Obi-Wan’s name twice is really important, because I argue that this is coded as Anakin’s ‘distress signal.’ In “Twilight of the Apprentice” (from SW Rebels s2), Anakin also calls out to Ahsoka after his helmet has been slashed by her. “Ahsoka…. Ahsoka,” he says, initiating the outreach. She responds by whispering his name back in return (twice), further showing the importance of the double use of the name.

Which is why it’s a really big deal (!!) that when Obi-Wan finally tells Vader he’s given up/finally believes Anakin is well and truly gone, Vader initiates the contact and cries out to him. Twice.

This was Anakin’s last attempt to communicate his ‘distress signal’ to Obi-Wan, to tell him that Anakin needed his help. Anakin knew that he would never escape Vader if even Obi-Wan came to believe that Anakin was gone. Anakin cried out to him, knowing that Obi-Wan was his only hope.

Reading the text this way makes Vader’s final scene all the more tragic. In talking to Palpatine, Vader reinforces his desire to chase Kenobi. “He will not evade me again,” he says. (He’s my only hope, I cannot let him evade me again). Like a moth drawn to flame, Vader (or really Anakin inside of Vader) needs his Master. He cannot give up the flicker of hope that Obi-Wan presents.

That is until Palpatine yanks on his leash, reminding Vader of his dependency on him. He calls him out for his feelings over Obi-Wan weakening him, then vaguely hints that if Vader cannot overcome his past, then there would be no further use for him, and Palpatine would destroy him.

This is the final nail in the coffin. Vader sinks back into his chair. Defeated. “I serve only you, my Master,” he says, and we hear the Imperial March swell in the background.

Vader has resigned himself to his fate. Anakin slips away inside of him, not to reemerge until Return of the Jedi ten years later with the aid of his son. Until then, we see an increasingly cold, detached Vader, one that truly lost all hope when Kenobi called him “Darth” and accepted that Anakin was gone. If Kenobi had lost all hope, so did Anakin.

#obi wan kenobi spoilers #obi wan kenobi #kenobi spoilers #darth vader #anakin skywalker #obi wan and anakin #star wars #star wars rebels #ahsoka tano #part vi #obikin #vader and ahsoka

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faislittlewhiteraven · 4 months

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Undertale Yellow: An amazing fangame with one glaring thing I hate about it (that I need to rant about or else I'm going to go insane).

As the title says, Undertale Yellow was a game I really enjoyed playing. Lots of fun dialogue and designs, utterly fantastic art and animation (holy hell that Flowey fight! <3 <3 <3), great music and feels, etc. Seriously it deserves a ton of praise, not only as a fully completed fangame that took years of development, but as genuinely amazing prequel to one of my favorite games of all time.

...Unfortunately. Much as I truly enjoyed playing through the majority of the game, when I finished the True Pacifist route I was intensely unhappy with how that went and while the credits scenes and funeral for Cover helped ease some of the worst of it, I cannot help but wonder who the flipping f$%& in the development team thought presenting Clover's suicide as the 'just and happy' ending that all the friend characters accept with barely any argument was a good idea?!

Now to clarify: I went into Undertale Yellow knowing that Clover was going to die and that there were good odds their death was going to be self sacrificial or involve suicide. Undertale Yellow is a prequel to Undertale after all and children being murdered and/or sacrificing themselves for the greater good of lovable monster kind is an established part of the setting.

I came in knowing this game was bound to end tragically. I was excited to see how this game would pull that inevitable tragedy off while exploring the Yellow soul's theme of Justice and staying true to Undertale's established canon.

And all the way right up to the end of the True Pacifist ending I truly thought they'd nailed it: The constant pressure of the monsters suffering and being trapped in the Underground despite their sweet and earnest natures, Dalv's clear issues regarding a human, Starlow's unintentional reinforcement of the 'one sacrifice for the greater good' idea with his trolley problem reenactment, the repeated back to back betrayals from characters who should be friends (the Feisty Five, Starlow, Ceraba) hurting Clover instead, the dull realization in universe for Clover that all their efforts to find the missing human children were all for nothing...

It was fantastic. There was a real sense of looming dread for me, seeing all those moments and just knowing in my gut that after the desperate struggle with the agonized and grieving Ceraba, ranting about how monster kind is doomed as it stands, that Clover would start thinking of sacrificing their life for monster kind, especially when their 'sense of Justice' at the start of the game had them willingly jump into a gaping pit they couldn't have possibly have known the height of, for the sake of mission they (according to Flowey) easily abandon when offered a loving home instead. (aka implying not so great things about how much they value their own life)

So. With all that 'hyped for tragedy' in mind, there I am at the True Pacifist ending. I've just spared Ceraba, the friends are all arguing as to how to keep Clover (and possibly any future humans who fall) safe and Clover begins to go into something of a zone out, thinking about all the things they've heard and seen over the course of their adventure.

This is it! I think to myself as I watch it play out. This is where Clover, after everything they've been through, makes the tragic yet understandable mistake of running away from their friends and confronting Asgore just as Flowey kept encouraging them to! Not to fight and bring Asgore to justice but to try talking him down and when they fail that, offering up their life to help and 'save' their friends even as the narrative will (matching Undertale) will make it clear that this is a mistake and only hurts everyone involved, just like every suicide and child murder in Undertale hurts everyone involved until Frisk is able to end the cycle of pain by rejecting the Kill or be Killed premise and setting the monsters free! Wow, I can't believe it, they set it up so well, what a perfect way to tie into Undertale's greater narrative via tragic prequel, I love this eeeeee!

Except of course that's not what happens.

My first hint something is off is when the quotes Clover's 'remembering' in their little bubble start being way too positive for the set up (also there's nothing from the trolley problem section). The second is when the music shifts from quiet to holy and then outright happy.

And third is when Clover snaps out of it and point blank tells their friends they choose to die. Now, I'm getting a little confused and wary at this but alright, this is a pretty long sequence already but I guess we get to have one final hope moment before Clover somehow gets away from their friends to die (maybe Flowey if not Asgore?)-

-and then I am left absolutely flabbergasted as the friends who just spent the last huge chunk of the game trying to protect Clover/getting talked out of killing them because 'its not right' end up agreeing with Clover's decision after a pitiful amount of arguing against it (where the utterly stupid 'there's no other option' reasoning is used as the primary reasoning despite all the other options being very clearly stated just moments ago), before the woman who's entire massive trauma arc that is centered around her accidentally killing her own child out of blind faith for 'the greater good', proceeds to assist Clover with their suicide (who she clearly views as a surrogate child despite her best attempts not to) while the other characters meekly say goodbye, give hugs and leave all while bittersweet but mostly sweet 'great job honey, this sucks but we're proud of you' music plays (also Flowey says stuff but like, its Flowey so frankly he could say anything and it'd be fine. He's not the issue here).

...Wow.

What a screwed up way for that to end. Like, I clearly get the 'idea' that Clover is meant to be noble and good and such but like, really? A fan game of Undertale (where one of the main ending messages was 'Don't kill and don't be killed', where a child's suicidal attempts to free monster kind lead to every major tragedy in the game, and where suicide was repeatedly shown to only make things worse through Asgore and Alphys in numerous neutral endings) is the game that decides having its protagonist's pointless self sacrifice should be honored and treated as a good ending by the narrative?????

How did none of the otherwise clearly brilliant people working on this miss the very bad, no good implications of Clover's friends being talked into letting them kill themselves and having the narrative frame it as anything but the worst end?????

I have many, many questions. And concerns. And...

Look, I do get it. Undertale Yellow is still a fangame. There are going to be weird notes in the tone due to different writers and such, and I should just be happy that the game was finished it at all, and accept that this god awful scene is probably just the result of its creators really, really wanting their beloved characters to go out as kindly (and beautifully drawn/animated) as possible with all the hugs and feels of canon Undertale without taking into account how much the very different context might warp the tone and the characterizations of everyone in the entire scene.

But like. God damn. There is something very off putting about not letting brave kind Martlet refuse to take this as an answer and then finding she actually can't stop it happening (and no her saying that after like two sentences from 'Ceraba who's judgement about the human sucks' doesn't count). About Starlow not recognising he and his posse might've had something to do with why Clover is thinking this. About Ceraba not on some level going 'IF THIS IS YOUR CHOICE THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME USE YOU TO SAVE KANAKO?!' Edit: Also a totally waste of prequel opportunity not to let Asgore visibly make the worst choices we canonly know he made on screen. Yes, he gets to stab Clover in the Flawed!Pacist route but Clover's trying to shoot him in that one; the fact we don't get to see him stab a 'far too willing to die for their friends and not defending themselves' Clover as the friend trio can do nothing to stop it from happening feels like such a cop out I swear XD

I'm all for 'Clover dies willingly' at the end of the True Pacifist but they way they did it was just... Really ugh in a way I'm finding tricky to word and I'm honestly shocked I haven't seen more people point it out (though admittedly that might be because I haven't really looked around much). ...So yeah. I know its too late to change said ending but really kinda hoping at some point one of the Undertale Yellow team realizes this might be an issue and thinks to add a content warning in the game's opening or something because it could really use one of those. Also that for any future projects they do, they happen to do a little more research into how to avoid accidentally glorify suicide as opposed to having it as a tragedy because damn they did not manage that here whatsoever.

---

ANYWAY, with all that rant finally out of my head some other stuff about Undertale Yellow I be feeling strongly:

Flowey's boss battle and the lead up to it is incredible and without a doubt makes the neutral route the most amazing well crafted route in the game. 10/10 may have already mentioned this in the massive rant above but if so gonna repeat it anyway because it's just that damn good.

Genocide route being a deconstruction of the 'disproportionate revenge is justice' 90s Anti Hero is very cool theme wise but the lack of the lack of stuff like notes in shops saying 'please don't kill my family' and monsters with less screen time getting more fleshed out drags it down a little, as does Clover not actually choking on dust or getting attacked by the human souls or something at the very end. Really do love the Martlet battle flashback moments and Axel's horrifically timed confession scene though.

The general uselessness of the ACT menu in big 'endurance' fights as well as the lack of 'alternative sparing ACTS' makes fights a lot less fun than they could be and I found myself a lot less willing to use them in general as a result despite them being my favorite thing about Undertale. Did still adore what fun stuff was in them though so I think it's just a case of them being a tad too out of focus compared to the bullet hell gameplay (which I'm not that good at) for my tastes.

Pacifist route could've really used some more optional hangouts and/or letters from the main friends. As is, the peak 'hang out' part of the game for me was the nap room I spent maybe two minutes in, and Dalv especially could've benefitted a ton from a bit more presence (I got more interaction from Mo and the rabbit who's tongue was stuck to a pole and I'm not happy about that? If nothing else not getting to see the inside of Martlet's house or help Dalv build his new home feel like lost opportunities).

Personal pet peeve and nothing too serious but not a fan of Asgore not getting the kill on Clover outside of Flawed Pacifist. Makes sense on most routes (glares at T!Pacifist again) given the way the plot is set up and all but given Toby Fox has repeatedly stated Asgore killed all the humans who fell post Chara it just drives me nuts XD (As does the poor Blue Soul getting treated as a killer/evil but like, I can see where people are coming on that one and Undertale Yellow uses that to amp up Chujin's nightmare fuel vibes fantastically so I shall reluctantly congratulate that theory's use there and steel myself for the inevitable 'wait you're using Undertale Yellow lore but Axis didn't kill Integrity?' questions that will be posted on my 'will eventually be posted' Undertale fanfics XDDDD)

Love all the main cast, especially Martlet, and I am way too hyped for the day Undertale Yellow and its main cast get their own fandom tags on AO3.

...Kanako's death was incredibly stupid and avoidable but like, that's kind of what I like about it? I really also wanna know which Amalgamite she became (I'm thinking probably the one that tucks Frisk in to sleep and pats them on the head because of her and Ceraba's little 'going to sleep' game but like, I could see a very heart wrenching case for her being part of So Cold as well).

Anyone reading this who somehow hasn't played Undertale Yellow should really stop reading this and go play the game. It's free, its (one major thematic issue I have moral objections to aside) pretty decently written, and hey, more Undertale stuff to have fun making fanworks with <3

Goddamn has Undertale Yellow kicked my drive to write Undertale fanfic into overload XD Thank you Undertale Yellow team for helping me get all fired up again and sorry about all the grr but dang it, it needed to be said and now that it's out of my system I can throw myself into finding ways to incorporate your settings and characters into fanworks of my own (admittedly the AU elements might make things kinda tricky -Asgore having to kill EVERY human child even more so- but that nifty little detail of early Royal Guard Martlet having and being willing to abuse her access to the Hotland Lab allows me so many ways to have Chujin be a well meaning awful person and I am living for it!) <3 <3 <3

#Undertale Yellow #undertale #fangame #undertale spoilers #undertale yellow spoilers #tw discussion of suicide and suicide related themes #game rants #constructive criticism (well hopefully anyway)#Fais rambles #I have been hesitating over the post now button for twenty minutes now and I really should not be this nervous. I'm not even rude dang it #oh wait I forgot swearing is rude in some places #cw swearing #ut yellow #uty #uty spoilers

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divinehedons · 10 months

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imagine joel miller going full handyman mode whenever you mention a broken something in your house off-handedly. because he likes working with his hands, because his love language is acts of service, because he likes the domesticity of it after spending his life submerged in uncertainty.

imagine he's been gone on patrol for a few nights, just as your shared bed finally breaks down from all the fucking that transpired between the sheets. So you make do with your books, stacking them just enough for you to stop waking up dizzy.

and when he does return, he's voracious, insatiable. he's kissing you so desperately while he carries you to the bedroom. whenever you try and point it out he just shuts you up with another knee-weakening kiss. so when he finally drops you to bed, a bit too harshly, he hears the clattering of your books falling over while you squeal when your vision shifts as the bedframe becomes off-set.

"that's what i was trying to tell you, crazy man," you'd murmur, giggling as you watch how it comes naturally to him. he observes, tilts his head to the side, before kissing your forehead.

get the flashlight for me, darlin', how about that?

that's how you spend an evening with joel reinforcing your bedframe, his voice sounding every now and then when you shift the light too much that he loses vision of a screw or a nail he's working on. despite that, you let him. you let him because his eyes naturally soften when he does something so familiar.

you reward him, of course, by pulling him into bed and kissing him all over his face, your very own way of thank you. he'd chuckle, calling you too sweet just as he settles between your legs.

you know, doll, we should test it out and make sure everything's in place.

#joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller drabble #joel miller fluff

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lapumuckl · 2 months

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We are so ready for spring on our nails and mom is already in love with this new color. But the mermaid effect is just so beautiful and completed with a butterfly water decal. As always thank you for your time and trust.

#nailart #natural nail reinforcement #fullcover #nofilter #manicure #nail #nails #shiny #oval #nailmodell #water decal #spring

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thebonejunky · 9 months

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im redesigning the Yellowjackets(90s versions) so i thought i would share some of my brainstorm ideas for new designs

note: look at the reblogs for full thread because i will be adding on as i post each character

im going to draw one(out of seven) character every day. i really love all the actors and outfits in the show, but i want to take them a step further to make them more interesting and stylize them into drawn characters. i also think more symbolism could be implemented into their appearances. my notes below are just random little things i want to add, or some more complicated characterization. i would also very much like to read anyone elses ideas!

Shaunas eyebags heavier

Misty wears redcross patch on her jacket and has bandages wrapped around her sleeves and pant legs

Misty wears the most Yellowjacket gear out of anyone because she desperately wants to feel apart of the team(overcompensation).

Jackie wears a lot of jock-like clothing(bomber jacket, jersey, cleats, etc) but does not have the body type or body movement of a jock, like she's overcompensating for her lack of athletic ability compared to everyone else.

Van's scars are much bigger and more jagged. they werent able to sew up the hole in her cheek and her teeth are visible through the hole, and her left eye is permanently discolored(red sclera, yellow iris) and vision has been lost there. she is not a werewolf, but has stylistic traits reminiscent of one, like sharp teeth and nails. represents the ways in which she has been forced to become more feral and animal-like in order to survive.

Van and Tai's cult masks parallel each other and are recreated versions of their doomcoming masks. while their doomcoming masks represent love and new beginnings, their cult masks represent codependancy and death.

Luara Lee wears entirely white throughout her entire time in the wilderness to represent her innocent and "purity". there are moments where her clothes becomed stained(some times with blood) but she always removes the stains with great care(inspired by Fear Street 1978 when Cindy removes red moss stains from her white polo- the white polo representing her heteronormativity, and the red moss representing lesbian desire). she dies without losing this innocence. this symbolism also reinforces the idea that cannibalism represents girlhood and love between girls(blood is a symptom of femininity. to eat is to give into desire).

Tai becomes more contridictory of herself in her appearence as time goes on and her sleepwalking-self becomes more prominent. clothes with contridictory colors/patterns, Gemini themes.

give van even more butch energy

Lottie wears clothes and accessories that are more witch-like and reminscent of nature. fur jacket, bones and antlers, leaves used to tie clothing together.

make Nat more punk. piercings, band patches on her leather jacket. not design related but i think it would be cool if she played an instrument, like practiced guitar on the down low when shes not playing soccer.

#yellowjackets #character design #boney ideas

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pezberrywhoreee · 19 days

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Mean girls kink and fetish headcanons!!!

my credentials are: im a kinkster, i practice safe and informed bdsm and i have a sub....hope that's good enough for y'all :D

will i be projecting my kinks onto them? you know itttttt

- i think she's a dom leaning switch. she's not too fussed about positions though, she'll do whatever she wants when she feels like it. i just imagine that she likes to dom more

- that's a hard/mean dom if ive ever seen one. heavy sadist

- i don't think she has a strictly preferred honourific or title but she's open to "mommy", "mistress", "goddess" and "sir". i imagine she gets off on little girls saying her name because she loves herself.

- heavy on impact play as a top. she has a secret stash of a few expensive toys like floggers and crops but it's mainly pervertables. she loves convenience but if she's feeling nice then she'll spoil you and let you choose which expensive one she buys.

- humiliation too as a top. she is almost too good at degradation and mocking. she is at all times perfecting the skill of how to overstimulate you verbally. she's great at picking up on little reactions that she can mock, which brings on more reactions and then all of a sudden you're kneeling in public.

- heavy into worship when she's takes a (brief) break from being mean. she'd make you worship her for hours, head to toe. maybe recite prayers for her about why you don't deserve her.

- breath play but specifically the hand over the mouth choke rather than directly on the throat.

- somno and it's giving "sorry baby, i was just so frustrated and you looked so pretty and open, go back to sleep".

- heavy oral fixation either way. fingers in mouths, strap sucking, eating pussy (obviously!! this bitch loves sitting on faces and hearing mouths fill up beneath her), spit, making out. i'll also group boot licking into here.

- dacryphilia...enough said (that's the paraphilia for crying, dumbasses <3)

- forced submission but not super intense. she wants to train you into not having any walls up so she can get into your head and push you deep into submission.

- that said, she is definitely trying to be more of a mental dom because she loves playing with minds but she clings to the perceived physicality of bdsm...but she's trying!

- omg i honestly think she's a secret masochist. she would never outwardly admit it though, but she wants nails digging into her and bleeding scratches.

- first things first, i want to say that i think janis is a really good dom. probably the best and most responsible kinkster out of all of them. she finds the non-sexual element of kink and bdsm just as important.

- i feel that she's more dom leaning but is more than willing to submit in order to experience what she is going to be inflicting or giving to a sub.

- it's giving service dom sun, mommy dom moon and hard dom rising. she's very caring and wants to do anything to please you but she'll do it till you're crying.

- shibari master. this is very obvious. but im talking almost only japanese bondage. she'll make an exception for a western tie if she's doing quick bondage but it's very much an art for her. shibari combines her appreciation of art with her sexually in touch nature and that's why she's so good at it. she's also working up to do suspension which is what drew her to rope bondage in the first place. i think she specialises in floor bondage but she dreams of doing full body suspension. favourite ties - futomomo, overhead harness.

- i know that power dynamic is a given, but she makes sure to reinforce that shit constantly. very much normalising honourifics and them being an everyday thing (she enjoys "mommy" and "sir"), she'd collar you eventually too.

- needles. anything that can be artistic, she does with a lot of effort and care. i think she would love to do wings and other intricate designs. probably not too often, but it would be very special when she did.

- big into temperature play, specifically wax and more burning sensations. again, she considers this as an art, with the plus that it also has the benefits of creating really visceral sensations.

- sensory deprivation. she often likes to do scenes where four of your five senses are taken away, and she can have her way with you <3

- forced submission. she is actively training you to drop at one command, or one look or a certain type of touch. a big goal of hers it to have you brain dead eventually.

- armpits, specifically smothering girls with her pit while she gets them off. janis imi'ike is at all times searching for girls who will deeply sniff her pits and groan while doing so. i know what you are, imi'ike.

- i feel that she's more natural at praise then degradation, but she loves both. she definitely wants to eventually get you off purely verbally.

- hypno. she loves mind fucking, it's her favourite. she has a strong urge to corrupt people from the inside out which is why i think she takes a lot of pride in being more of a "mental" dom.

- not necessarily a kink, but she loves to do scenes where she doms multiple subs at once.

- petplay, but i think she's more down to be a handler or an owner. she loves pups, and kitties and bunnies the most (corruptable)

- the subbiest sub to ever sub in this sub world.

- she would never call herself a brat but she definitely has little brat-isms that her dom's enjoy. but i think she'd do anything for anyone if they had an ounce of dominance. she tries really hard to be obedient and she succeeds most of the time. everyone clap for cady! *claps all around*

- i think she really loves being called "pup", "puppy" or "pet" as an always title. she also gives "girl" and "little girl" vibes since she seeks out mommy's. loves being taken care of omg

- puppy!! this person is a in a consistent (not a 24/7 dynamic but it's definitely an inherent mommy-puppy dynamic) pet dynamic. she goes fully out: collar, toys, bowl, knee pads and mitts, hood, mannerisms!! she's probably a dachshund or a golden lab!

- breath play, not just because of the obvious power exchange but also the compression at the sides of her neck.

- huge praise kink. she'll do anything to get praised. she also needs constant reassurance that's she's a good pup in order for her to get off, so it's almost fetish level. little phrases like "that's it" "that's right" "keep doing that" make her unbelievably whiney.

- size difference. I feel that she really enjoys the power dynamic being reinforced in little ways. so having a taller dom to throw her around is very important to her submission.

- light impact. she's definitely a thuddy type of girl but she'll take anything that you have to give to her. definitely loves face slapping too. loves a paddle. she actually has one that says 'puppy' on it and it leaves a cute little mark.

- marking. she finds the reminder of her submission really vital too, so she enjoys to have bite marks, scratches, bruises, welts on her body. she gets off on power exchange, people!!

- orgasm detail and overstimulation. there is an element of suffering that she really enjoys. maybe not super masochistcly but she likes the suspense of being edged and how overwhelming it is to be overstimulated.

- hand fetish, she loves big, strong, veiny, lesbian hands

- rope bunny (well...puppy). once again, that wider scale compression makes her feel very secure and safe and helpless which puts her into that warm, fuzzy headspace where she can have someone else think for her, for once. favourite ties - armbinder and hip weave harness

- it's pretty obvious that she is the biggest service sub. she is there to do anything you say and more.

- puppy, definitely a dumb pup. names like "puppy", "pup" and "mutt" really do it for her. i feel that she likes to be reminded that she's only there to make her doms feel good and nothing else.

- huge mommy kink!! she actually asks all her doms if she can call them 'mommy' before they even tell her their honourifics (canon). she wants to be mommy-ed and taken care of. she loves the duality of how someone can care for her one minute and then be ruining her the next.

- the puppy in her really loves sniffing pits. she's a little ashamed of this one but she loves doing it nonetheless. i feel that she begs to be buried in mommy's pits very often.

- rope bunny, again similar to cadys love it. she longs for that physical compression of her muscles and puts her in a good headspace. i can really see her being into mummification and suspension too.

- corruption and dumbification. clearly regina's consistent asshole-ness has rubbed off on her and now she wants to be made dumb and please people until she can't speak. she wants each of her thoughts to be controlled and manipulated.

- degradee...see above. she likes to be slutted out.

- overall loves making her mommy(s) proud and happy and loved.

- i deadass think she doesn't care about positions in the slightest but she tends to sub more just cause of dynamics.

- she loves being called "bun", "bunny" and "girl". she's pretty soft most of the time but she can get edgy depending on the dom and their kinks.

- she's very much into everything anytime. she's flagging orange (if you don't know what im refering to, please look up hanky code and educate yourself. this is basic queer history!!)

- pet regression and age regression. this is very rarely sexual for her. she likes to be in a safe, young headspace when she's around her doms! she's definitely a bunny, has a little tail and and everything. i imagine that her ages are anywhere between four and ten.

- group sex. I feel like she likes showing off to a lot of doms at once. showing them skills that she's been taught. i also get the vibe that she really likes being ordered to put on a show with other subs for their dom.

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