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uluvjay · 4 months

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Just stay- J. Drysdale

Jamie Drysdale x fem! Reader

In which jamie begging you to stay the night turns into you asking him if he really has to leave.

Warnings?; suggestive, kissing, angst, cursing, self doubt, anxiety, crying, hardly proofread, sorry for any errors, this was originally going to be a cute fic but the ducks decided to break my heart so I’m breaking yours!, also we’re gonna pretend the ducks don’t play Tuesday so I can include z and mason!!

You whimpered as he kissed up your body, lips switching moving slowly as his teeth lightly nipped at parts of your skin along his path.

“Jamie..” you breathed, hands tangling into his hair as his breath fanned over your overstimulated cunt.

“Hmm” he mumbled into your skin as he kissed up to your waist, butterflies filling your stomach as his large hands come into contact with your thighs.

“I-I got to get going soon, I have a lab in the morning.” You spoke breathlessly as you did your best to pull his adventurous lips from your body.

“So?” He questioned, swollen lips finally parting from your body.

“Baby, the drive to campus is thirty-five minutes from here and the labs at eight am. Easier to leave from my place.” You spoke lowly as you ran a thumb across his rosy cheek.

He groaned as he snuggled his face into your stomach, large body positioned comfortably between your legs.

“Just stay.” He whined

“Baby as much as I love you I don’t wanna get up even earlier than I would if I leave from home.” You laugh lightly.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Jamie.”

“What!? Come on plea-no don’t get up!” He whined as you began to move from your position underneath of him.

“You have practice tomorrow morning, you won’t make it back in time.” You reminded him as you searched the sea of your mixed clothes on his bedroom floor for your underwear.

“If I drive slightly illegally, I will.” He groaned, flopping onto his back, naked body on full display.

“Jamie! I’ll be back here waiting for you once you’re done with practice, we won’t be apart for long.” You laughed, watching him amusingly as he got off the bed.

Making his way towards you, now dressed in boxers and ducks T-shirt in hand he grabbed you by the waist.

“Come on baby please, we can order a pizza and watch a movie.” He pleaded looking down at you with his bright blue eyes in fully puppy mode, lower lip slightly pouted.

“Jamie..” you spoke and while you didn’t like the smirk that overtook his face knowing he had won, the idea of getting to sleep in his arms would always sway you.

“You want me to order from the place down the street or the one a bit further?” He questioned with a lingering smile.

“The one down the street.” You grumbled trying to hide your smile.

“Okay-oh, here.” He smiled unfolding the shirt in his hand and pulling it over your head.

“Meet me in the living room after you clean up.” He leaned down pressing his forehead against yours before giving you a small peck.

“I love you, you know that?” You blushed, a hand coming to rest on his scruffy cheek.

“I know, and I love you more.” He gushed, eyes locked on yours.

You let out a soft hum before giving him one more soft kiss, “go order our pizza big boy, think we worked up quite an appetite.” You smirked, poking a finger into one of the marks you’d left on his chest.

He hissed lightly but it was mixed with a soft laugh as your bodies parted and he left a soft swat to your butt as you took off causing a loud giggle to break from you. The sound following him as he walked into the living room to order a pizza.

However he didn’t get very far as his phone began to ring and he found it to be his GM calling.

“Hey pat” he answered warmly despite the sudden anxiety brewing in his lower stomach.

“Hey son, um..look I’m really sorry to have to break this to you over the phone but um…Jamie we’ve traded you.”

Jamie felt as if the world around him was spinning, traded? He was being traded? And they had to the nerve to tell him over the phone.

“Jamie? You there?” The man on the other side of the phone questioned after a few beats of silence.

“Uh-yeah…sorry, um where am I going?” He coughed, swallowing back the quiver in his voice.

“Philadelphia..” Pat spoke quickly with a flinch at the scoff that sounded through the phone.

“When do I leave?”

“In two days, they have a game against Pittsburgh tomorrow, then a day off. They want you there by Wednesday for their game against the Canadians.” Pat explained.

“Okay, I’ll be down the arena tomorrow to get my things.” Jamie spoke lowly.

“Listen Jamie I really am sorry, you’re an excellent player it’s just that things aren’t working out..”

“Don’t worry about it, I mean it’s part of the job right?.” Jamie choked out.

“Right…Well I’ll let you go. See you tomorrow kid.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Jamie puffed as he set his phone down on the couch in front of him before sitting down himself.

Every emotion ran through the boys head, was he not enough? Did he do something wrong? He’d never know but it didn’t stop the aching in his heart.

His eyes pricked with tears as he looked around his house, the place he’d made countless memories with you and his friends. At the thought of his friends he began to wonder if a certain loud brunette a few doors down knew about the trade.

“Baby? Are you okay?” The sound of your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts and as he looked up to find you in the doorway of the living room and that’s when the dam finally Broke.

“Woah, Jamie what’s wrong?” You rushed as you sat down next to the boy and pulled him into your arms.

“They traded me.” He whimpered into the comfort of your neck.

Shock filled your chest at his words, traded? Where? And when did he have to leave?, every question crossed your mind but you knew you couldn’t ask them. Not as you felt his warm tears on your skin.

“Oh baby I am so, so sorry.” You whispered as you ran a hand along his back.

You two sat like that for a while until his chest finally slowed down and his tears dried up. Pulling away from your chest his bloodshot eyes met yours, dark hair messy and stuck to his forehead while tear tracks were present on his pale skin.

“I have to be in Philadelphia by Wednesday.” He whispered.

“Philadelphia?”

“Yeah, amazing right?” He scoffed bringing a hand up to wipe away the stickiness on his face.

“Do you have to go in to the arena tomorrow?” You questioned quietly.

“Yeah to clean my stall and get my stuff, then I’ll be packing and on my way to the east coast.”

“I still have to figure out what to do with the house, I mean I sight the lease for a year and no-“ he began to worry but you quickly cut him off.

“Don’t worry about that, I got it okay? I’ll do my best to help you out from here. Maybe mason can move in or something for the time being.” You spoke trying to ease his nerves knowing the boy was currently sharing a place with Trevor.

“Wh-what does this mean for us?” He questioned quietly.

The question stubbed you, you loved Jamie with your entire being and you couldn’t bare thinking about not having him in your life but you hadn’t ever tried long distance before.

“I-I would like to try and stay together. I love you Jamie and I don’t want us to breakup just because you’re in another state. The school year is almost done and so is the season, we’ll be back together in a few months.” You spoke.

“I love you too and I don’t think I’d be able to survive without you, right now you’re all that’s keeping me together.” He admitted.

“We got this baby, it’ll be hard but we’ll make it through.” You whispered.

“Promise?”

“I pinky promise, you’re stuck with me forever baby.” You smiled as you linked your pinkie with the tired boys.

Tuesday you found yourself standing between Trevor and Mason as Jamie stood in front of you three with his hockey bag and suitcase.

“I guess this is goodbye?” He laughed but you knew there was no true humor in it.

“No, it’s a see you later. No goodbyes.” You heard Trevor speak.

“We’ll see you soon man, love you.” Mason spoke as he pulled Jamie into a hug.

“Love you too.” Jamie spoke as he hugged his friend tightly.

When they pulled away he was quickly brought into the arms of the tall New York native on your left, their hug just as tight as they shared a few words.

“I’m gonna miss you Jim, I’m glad I got to spend my first few years as your teammate.” Trevor spoke lowly and by his quivering voice you knew he was crying.

“Me too, you’ve been a lot of help throughout all my highs and lows Z. I’m glad we were able to share the ice together for so long. I love you man.” Your boyfriend said as he gave his dear friend one more tight squeeze and pulled away.

You already had tears streaming down your face by the time he got to you, his strong arms wrapping around you as you sobbed quietly into his chest.

You could hear the boys take a few steps back in order to give you the the tiniest bit of privacy.

“Are you sure you have to go?” You whimpered.

“Sadly I do baby.” He smiled down at you sadly, a hand coming up to wipe away your tears.

“You can’t just stay? Say fuck them and come home with me?”

“I’m so sorry baby, if I could I would have never put you through this. You don’t deserve it.” He choked out as his own tears began to fall faster.

“I love you so much Jamie.” You whispered.

“I love you more.”

You hugged him one more time before you heard the boarding for his flight being announced over the intercom and soon you were pulling away from each other.

“See you later?” You questioned.

“Yeah baby, I’ll see you later.” He smiled as he pulled you into one last kiss, the salty taste from your tears mixing in but neither of you cared.

He pulled away with one final peck and waved to the two boys behind you before he was turning around and walking towards his gate.

“I’m going to miss him so much.” Trevor spoke up from beside you.

“‘Me to Z, me too”. You nodded along as you three watched the love of your life walk towards his new life.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale x y/n

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space-rot · 11 months

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Something Stupid

paring: carmen “carmy” berzatto x reader

word count: 2.0k

genre: fluff, its all jokes bbyy

warning(s): smoking? Its carmy, what else does he do in his free time

summary: when you find peace in the small moments

a/n: better call saul and the bear? together? Well, don't mind if i do. anyways, i do not smoke, i do not condone smoking…but its kinda sexy ngl (thx @officialjimmybuffet for the images, smooches)

There is something so inherently nasty about cigarettes.

The unnatural smoke that burns your eyes, the chemicals that collect under your fingernails, and the smell that manages to leave an everlasting scent on your clothes.

You were never a smoker– somehow managing to avoid the advances of the punk outcasts trying to sell their self-rolled cigs in the back of your highschool parking lot for a dollar each. Sure, there was the typical uncle who seemed, and smelled, like he went through two or three packs a day. The faded voice of a family friend warning the children of the dangers of “the cancer stick,” and that smoking one was equivalent to signing your soul away to the devil.

A scoff leaves you, smirking as you free said cancer stick from its confinement. You were never one to heed the advice from strangers who believed they knew you better than you knew yourself anyway. Bringing it up to your lips and quickly lighting the end, basking in the warmth the small flame brings to battle the chill of the Chicago air.

It's not as though you didn’t know the risks that the habit came with, you are not ignorant to science and health officials; but as you inhale the first hit and can practically swim in the warmth of the filtered tobacco as it fills your lungs, you damn the professionals and all their holier and wiser than thou bullshit. But as you go for a second drag, the door to the alleyway opens and you’re greeted with unruly blonde hair, light blue eyes, and the face of a man who looks like he got the shit kicked out of him.

Because he has, you think, blowing smoke from your nose at the thought. Ever since the transition from The Beef to The Bear, things in and out of the kitchen have gotten easier, but that doesn't mean a headache doesn’t follow. Signing up to work in a kitchen comes with its ups and downs, mostly downs. But those scarce highs are filled with such intense feelings of euphoria, that it is the true addiction that should be studied.

Carmy walks towards you, quick rushed steps, leaning on the wall next to you, close enough to ensure that your arms are touching. A sigh leaving his lips as he rests his weight on the wall, raking a hand through his hair only to continue to drag it down his face. You can see him turn towards you from your peripheral, but you’re looking forward because looking at him means kitchen talk and no matter how long you’ve known Carmy you know that every break talk will just lead to him ranting and raving and you're on a smoke break for a reason and–

The cigarette is plucked from your lips, fingers decorated with SOU disappear with your cigarette just as quickly as they appear, bringing it up to their owners lips for one hit, a second, before he’s placing the stick back exactly where he stole it from.

To say you’re surprised would be a lie. This isn’t the first nor will it be the last time Carmy does this. Hell, he’s the whole reason why you kissed your lungs away in the first place.

You’ve known Carmy for a few years now, having met at that bastard of a restaurant in New York. You weren’t even supposed to be there, having worked at a restaurant adjacent to it, but they were low on staff and the GMs were close enough to send their chefs back and forth when need be.

It was moments before dinner service was supposed to begin, every chef taking last minute precautions to ensure they don't get chewed out by the newly established CDC, Carmen Berzatto. You don’t even know what he looks like yet, the kitchen is doused in pure silence that even asking someone what he looks like seems like a distraction worthy of a mental breakdown from a fellow chef. Even though your check didn’t come from this place, you prepared your station as well as you would in your own restaurant because that’s what being professional means; treating anywhere you cooked with the most respect.

Stepping foot outside and leaning against the wall, you began digging through your pockets for your phone, cursing to yourself when you realized you left it next to your station.

“Hey, uh, I got an extra smoke if you want,” says a voice coming from your right. Turning in its direction, you find a long, blonde-haired man sitting on a milk crate. A cigarette is dangling from his fingers, the smoke swirling dangerously close to his eyes before he brings the cigarette back to his lips, your eyes skimming on the tattoos that decorate his arms and biceps.

“Uh, I’m sorry what,” you question back, having forgotten the original prompt said by him.

“A smoke,” he holds out a carton of cigarettes towards you, “that’s what you're looking for right?” The box is white but decoded with a strip of blue running through the center. The look he gives you is so inviting, but there's only one problem:

You don’t smoke.

Not once has a cigarette grazed your lips. Not once have you been possessed by the ghost of defiance and inhaled the breath of the devil. Not once have you been wrapped in the haze of smoke.

But the look of desperation that’s hidden behind his eyes, the subtle look asking to not be left alone in the back alley of the world’s best restaurant, is enough for you to reach out and grasp your one way ticket to demise–and oh how right you were. How could one assume that a measly little cigarette would alter the rest of your life.

The physics of it seemed easy enough: inhale and then exhale, breath in and then breath out, anybody can do it. So you take the cigarette out of the box, and lean back on the wall, inspecting it like it would sprout legs and run away.

“Hey, uh, do you have–,” the flame of a lighter is already being cupped by his hand. You bend over, close enough to this man to smell the left over nicotine mixed with the atmosphere of the kitchen. He doesn’t look away, mesmerized by the way your eyes drift to the flame to ensure the end of the cigarette is lit, the slight tilt of your head towards the heat. Even when you blink back up to him he doesn’t look away, he’s almost afraid to breathe in this moment, worried it’ll be another thing he manages to fuck up.

But then you're inhaling and–

“Holy shit are you alright,” there’s a hand on your back, patting with a gentle force with the hopes of expelling your coughing fit. “Here, have some water,” he hands you his container of water, because what kitchen has bottled water?

Taking a sip, you contemplate a universe where you can save this situation. How does one manage to fuck up this badly? All of the movies make it look so easy, but the burning of your lungs say otherwise. But the warm hand on your back doesn’t move once you stop coughing, and you turn to see worried eyes meet your own. A beat passes, then two, then a scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Sorry, I uh,” you scramble for something, anything, to save your pride, your dignity. Here is this incredibly attractive man willing to give you a small piece of his world, and you spat it back out in his face. He must be thinking the worst demeaning thoughts, because what chef isn’t thinking in the worst way possible? Here is some person who can’t even inhale properly, what makes them think they can handle the smoke in the kitchen? Coughing up a storm all because of what, one drag of a cigarette and the chef needs to tap out–

“No it's okay, I know these ones taste bad as shit, but they’re the only pack I had on me,” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand (the other is resting still on your back, not that either of you noticed), “I normally have this other brand, y’know a little sweeter and not as bitter and uh, yeah sorry about that,” he trails off, looking sheepish at the thought of giving out a shitty cigarette brand.

You are given two choices now: one, you can lie and agree that the brand is shit, keeping a small amount of pride and dignity, or two, come clean and admit to this total stranger that this is the first time you’ve held a cigarette and you only agreed because he looked pretty.

A former option has never looked more inviting.

So you lie, you lie out of your ass and agree that the brand is shit and that you have to get back to your station. Packing in a joke about how fucking insane the CDC apparently is and that you’re glad to only be here for the one night. You wish him luck for the night, he gives a small chuckle and wishes you luck as well.

It was five minutes later that someone pointed out that the CDC just walked in from the back and you realize that he was the same man whose cigarette you coughed up.

But that was years ago, and now here you are, with the same CDC behind his new restaurant, a now shared cigarette between your lips. You followed Carmy throughout his time in New York, you followed him to his brother’s sandwich shop, and you will follow him throughout his new endeavors at The Bear. Following him wasn’t always easy, if anything there are more lows than highs, but it’s the small moments like these that make everything worth it.

“You wanna know something funny,” he asks, stealing the cigarette again.

“What?”

“This is the same brand I had you smoke the first time we met.”

Pulling the pack out of your pocket, you let out a hum of acknowledgement, “holy shit you’re right,” the blue stripe around the box stands out against your palm.

You turn to look at him for the first time since he’s stood next to you, backs against the harsh brick of the building.

He’s already staring, a knowing smirk growing across his face, “Thought you hated that brand?”

Stealing the cigarette back, you let out a last puff of smoke, “Only hated it cause you were the one to give it to me.” You finish the cigarette, throwing it onto the concrete and stomping it out, “Come on Berzatto, this place won’t run itself,” you call out with a small wave thrown over your head, walking back towards the kitchen.

Carmy laughs, knowing that you hate the story of how you two met. He can’t help but tease ever since he found out he gave you your first cigarette by accident. You didn’t know anything about different brands, just that you found the man giving you one attractive. Carmy only knows this after taking you home after a drunken night with Sydney, you babbling about anything and everything that it took him a few hours to put the whole story together.

Of course he feels bad at certain times, such as watching you pat yourself down for a smoke only to find that you finished your last pack the other day. But Carmy is always there to give you one of his, whether it be his last one or not, only if you two can share it with a small moment together outside.

And so he walks back inside, looking forward to the next smoke break, and the one after that, until his lungs couldn’t handle anymore, only to keep going if yours haven't given out yet.

#carmen berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

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Hello friend! So they have been apparently filming the Madney wedding stuff today, and while on location they did a celebration for their 100th episode! Here’s a few of the photos from it. Beyond happy to see Ryan and Gavin there and with Oliver giving us some nice family vibes. No one is fully sure outfit wise if these are versions of what they will have on during the actual wedding itself, Peter, Aisha, and Angela seem ready to go lol. Oliver would need a dress shirt added and Ryan would well…. need a shirt (I guess 😅💀😂) at all. But, if these are what their characters will be wearing then the fact they made the outfits for Eddie and Buck be complementary colors to each other has me feeling insane lol.

Thank you my friend, @mattsire for the ask. I did see the videos and the pics from the 100 episodes celebration and I have lots of questions.

First, I was trying to figure out what happened to RG's shirt (he isn't wearing one), his suit and his hair? Second, if they are in Madney wedding attire, why is OS not wearing a tuxedo and what happened to his suit (both of their suits are dirty)? Buck’s and Eddie’s attire makes it seem like they were involved in a rescue or something else 👀. Third, why is GM not wearing wedding attire? Is Chris not going to the wedding?

Is Buck not part of the wedding party or did something happen that relates to TM's comment during the TCA interview about everything "going smoothly" during the wedding because AH is dressed fabulously? Since Hen is Chimney's best friend and her and Buck had that conversation in 6x16 about who would stand beside Chimney as best woman or best man on his wedding day, it presents more questions.

Also, Mr. Lee wearing a suit with a blue necktie and a shirt and handkerchief with blue in it shows he's Chimney's dad and since there's no sign of Sang Han or Albert 👀, it simply added even more questions than answers.

Especially, since the actor who plays Phillip Buckley was/is on set.

I did notice AB and PK are wearing green and blue 👀 so if they're in wedding attire, then they're wearing the 6x13 couple's/ships' colors of love (post linked here).

The show or celebration coordinators could/should have let them get changed for the occasion instead of doing it while they were still in character.

Anyway, I have a lot of thoughts about episodes 7x5 and 7x6 and I'm still debating if I will do posts on them.

Thanks for the ask and whenever the wedding episode is going to take place, it seems like it's going to be interesting.

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 7 months

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about Richter and Olrox AU

some scenarios i would love to see if you interested :) (i love your AU's idea!! i needed it honestly)

1. Lets assume that Richter managed to escape once and even not far away but in that short time he managed to hurt himself (broken leg, arm or nasty bruises) and Olrox, who quickly finds him anddd... I leave the rest for you to complete bc i dont wanna interfere to your Olrox's character

2. Richter is nearly bitten by another vampire during a ball

3. Richter has a breakdown over being estranged from his mother and seeks comfort in anything other than Olrox but eventually turns to him

4. Frequent nightmaresss

5. Another Richter escape attempt ending in failure

thats all :3 feel free to add anything!!

gn/gm

(Young Richter gets captured by Olrox as revenge: a bittersweet found family au introduction post)

Ok first of all I gotta say that I’m in LOVEEEE with these prompts! I’m gonna do all of them eventually in no particular order, ESPECIALLY the nightmares bc that can be a whole one-shot (plz let me know if you want it, guys) but let’s start with the scenario nr 2 🤭 buckle up because this is gonna be a long one!

Olrox had a nagging feeling in the back of his head that told him something was off, and he couldn’t dampen the voice of anxiety that told him to check up on his little companion.

The vampire ball was an event even the Aztec could at times barely get through, so it had been no surprise that Richter Belmont was dying from boredom. He’d been afraid at first, alarmed around immortals in puffy gowns and tall wigs, but Olrox had made it clear, both to the boy and to the other guests that no hair would fall off his head.

Some hours later, Richie settled on a bench in the garden and promptly passed out, using his newly bought navy blue coat as a pillow. The vampires awwed at the cuteness of Olrox’s "pet" (oh how that title ticked him off), but eventually left him alone and he’d been napping somewhat peacefully since, or, at least, ten minutes ago…

For Richie wasn’t there now, and the man’s lips wouldn’t crease into a sneer, if not for one simple detail.

The coat was lying on the stone pathway. The same coat that Richter came to cherish in the short time he’d been in it. “Never wore anything so expensive before” The child told him, so it made no sense at all that he’d leave that piece of clothing as if it was forgotten.

Something is wrong, the voice kept whispering, you need to find him as soon as possible, it pleaded; you have to protect him. You can’t loose him too.

Olrox cursed at how easily fear of loss possessed him, as he took the coat and, using his inhuman sense of smell, scoured the garden. His eye twitched when a familiar scent led him to a labyrinth.

He’s a kid, the vampire kept telling himself, children do foolish stuff all the time. He was just feeling bored. Deep down however, he knew it was a horrible lie. Richter was a kid, but a clever one, and a descendant of a vampire huntress. He wouldn’t get himself into a vulnerable position.

Olrox’s eyes widened. Not unless he’s trying to escape.

“Fuck-let me GO!” He heard a barely audible scream. It was far, but undoubtedly little Belmont. Aztec wasted no time turning into a cloud of black smoke, traversing above the green labyrinth and towards the sound.

“I knew you’d try something you little brat. Sort of glad you did, actually. Always wondered how Belmont blood tasted.”

“No…you won’t drink my blood. You can’t!”

“And why not?”

“Ngrh-“ A choked cough was heard and Olrox picked up a wind. “Olrox will shove those fangs down your throat!”

“Right, the dirty mutt. As if he could ever rival me.”

Olrox felt his smoke turn into sharp scales as a growl escaped his throat. He was close. So close.

Where are you, child?

“N-NO! STO—STAY AWAY—OLROX!!!”

The Aztec had that vampire seized before he even knew it. The world turned red for a moment, and when he woke up, there as a pathetic, blood-sucking immortal crushed in the vice grip of his tail. Reverting to his human form, he found Richie lying on the grass, grasping at his neck and coughing. He was at his side in an instant, picking up the small thing and holding him to his chest.

“Breathe, Richter, breathe…” Olrox spoke, rubbing Belmont’s back.

“He—that asshole tried to—” Richie spat between coughs.

“I know, but he has been dealt with. He’s done.”

Richter tried to look at the bloodbath, but Olrox pressed him back into the fabric of his cravat, now stained with tears. Surprisingly however, he did not care one bit. Fabric was just that; fabric, however intricately made. It could never replace a person.

“You….you came…” Richie then uttered, in disbelief and on the verge of tears.

“You called for me.” He answered, carding his boy’s curls.

“…I—“

“Tried to run. I guessed.”

“…are you angry?”

“I probably will be, but not now.” Olrox smiled, picking up the child. “For now, you being unharmed is enough. I’ll scold you in the morning.”

Richter smirked, though sadly. “Is the party over?”

“No, but we’re leaving. Now.”

“Oh thank god!” Richter whined, no fear or sadness left in his voice. “Let’s go, I’m starving!”

#castlevania nocturne #castlevania au #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania richter #nocturne richter #richter belmont #richter #castlevania olrox #nocturne olrox #olrox #olrox/mizrak

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sillyromance · 3 months

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Can you make comfort vore? From Optimus?

Hello, dear evelyntyecrqzy!

Sure! Here you go!

P.S: there is angst and one heavy word in this work. Also I've written it from the first person's perspective... I really hope you don't mind it.

Have a good day and take care!

***

- How do you feel, little one?

It was late evening; almost all the lights were gone, the only bright area was Ratchet’s lab: the old medic was staring at the big green screen, typing aggressively on the panel and mumbling something inaudible. He was too busy to pay attention to anything else. The rest of the team left to their quarters after they had brought the kids home. No body had shown any signs of life since then.

I was lying on the couch, curled up in a tight ball. My head felt heavy and hurt; I felt cold and lonely. It was hard to hold back sobbing, but I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention - nobody cared anyways. Why would they? Were my problems that important?

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears running down my cheeks violently as my shoulders started shuddering...

And then I heard his deep, gentle voice.

"How do you feel, little one?" - I turned my red face to the huge mech behind me. Optimus Prime, my guardian. Through the cacophony of my thoughts I hadn't heard him coming. His blue optics far above glowed with concern.

I hurried to wipe the tear tracks from my face and stand up, mumbling something like: "Sorry" or "It's fine, don't bother yourself..." But as far as I did this, his large servo wrapped around me and very soon I found myself sitting on his plain rough palm, being swirled with his kind, sad gaze. I felt nothing but guilt, though the only reason for it was my depressing mood. I couldn't look straight at him, turning away over and over, rubbing my hot cheeks in attempt to get rid of the tears. I hated myself for the mess I had become – I waited for him to throw me away as far as he would get a good look at my ugliness. However, Optimus didn't seem disgusted with me at all.

- Did someone offend you? - The mech asked again with the same sincere tenderness in his tone.

I shook my head negatively.

- Is it something in your body?

I closed my face with both hands and shook the head even more violently, crooking.

- No...

- And what’s about your soul?..

I sniffed silently; choking sensation dug its claws into my throat as it let out a pathetic "Mm-gm..." and I nodded. Everything in me just fell somewhere down; I felt my poor heart beating hysterically in the stomach. There was a crazy mix of panicking fear and complete indifference. I was trembling, wishing to be left alone. But even more, I wanted to be comforted. I wanted someone to embrace me and whisper soothing words, to say that it was going to be OK, to stroke my hair as if I was just a kid. But wasn't it too much to ask? I didn't dare to believe Optimus would bother himself to spend time with such a puny, pathetic creature.

After this cut through my head, I couldn't keep myself from crying anymore – I literally burst out.

- Hey, look at me, Y/N.

Hesitantly, I obliged. I was ready to see disappointment or distaste, but instead...

- There is nothing to be embarrassed with. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn't sure if I heard him right. Did he really... worry about me? Of course, as my guardian, he should have, regardless... Wasn't I dreaming?

- W-what d-do you m-mean? – I replied indecisively.

- I thought, perhaps you could share your pain with someone. Sometimes it helps. - A small, understanding smile appeared on his faceplate. - I'm sorry... It hurts my spark to see such precious little thing crying.

I lost my ability to speak for some seconds.

- Does it r-really? W-why?

Prime's eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

- Because you matter. You're my friend, Y/N. Friends help each other, don't they?

His gravely voice had already had its way with me. My shudders calmed down and though my eyes were still wet, I couldn't help but smiled back at him.

- Thank you... for this... But I don't want to talk right now...

- It's absolutely fine...

- ... I'm very, very tired, though. - At the moment I said that, my spine weakened and I collapsed at the flat, warm surface of Optimus' hand.

Something childish, basic, something from the abyss of my wild, subconscious core suddenly arose inside me and escaped my chest with barely audible plead.

- Please... Don't leave me here...

A quiet sigh rambled beside me; my entire figure was washed with warm air of his exhale.

- Don't worry, Y/N. I won't.

His digits closed over my tiny form. I wasn't able to see a thing anymore, but I could say for sure that we moved away from the place.

Quite soon the sounds of Ratchet's work faded away. Optimus opened one of the many electric doors and walked into a somewhat room - I heard a soft "whoosh" as the panel shifted back to its place. My guardian set me free on his berth, and only then I understood that we were in his private room. Sitting down beside me, he spoke even gentler than before:

- You are out of energy. And so do I. But still, I don't want you to stay alone...

Do you trust me?

I nod, already predicting where he was heading to. Cybotronian friends committed this small ritual with humans regularly; many were fond of it. However, I had never tried it with him. I couldn't claim that I was completely inexperienced too, but those previous times were emergencies which I couldn't truly like – they were harsh and distasteful like a rotten fruit. Now... It promised to be much more intimate. And it depended only on my wish.

I glanced at him through my eyelashes - I was too sleepy to keep the eyes wide open - and murmured:

- I do.

Optimus nodded. I was lifted up again - straight to his mouth.

Slowly, controlling every his movement, my guardian guided me inside his maw and laid my feet on his squishy glossa - there was a faint blue light twinkling at the back of his depthless throat illuminating a humid, warm chamber. Thanks to him I didn't even touch the sharp dents – their deadly blades loomed right above me, but stayed harmless, serving simply a reminder of what power Optimus actually had over me. The glossa curled around my legs as soft, thick blanket, then released them and I was pushed further to the glowing entrance of the esophagus.

I stared down, processing what was about to happen. I appreciated the leisure pace Optimus chose with me; his gentle licks and steady, rhythmical ventilating brought me nothing but comfort and peace. I sensed my toes in his pharynx and waited for inevitable with dull thrill - to be unceremoniously drugged into misty, humid confines of the muscles’ trap, to be deafed and choked. That what I was usually met with before, every time I was gulped down. However, when Optimus swallowed, his artificial, metal flesh contracted just slightly, pulling me so carefully inside that I almost missed the moment. It was like... A hug. The next swallow was just a little bit stronger - I gasped as he let his hand go off me and my tiny being got engulfed into his soft throat. It felt better than anything I knew before. Surrounded by the pulsing alien flesh, I finally felt protected and loved – the state I sought for so desperately all that fuckin’ day.

For some time he just held me there, his head titled back. I didn't make a move, trying to avoid hurting him. Living heat of his soaked into my bones and made me so drowsy that I thought I would fall asleep. However, at that moment the muscles came to action and lovingly tugged me deeper. The light grew brighter, though it didn't bother me at all; I was easily slipping in a long wiry tube constructed from the smaller ones, thinner and more solid, poured with viscous, bubbling energon – I was watching little sparks floating in there as I was passing by and a weak flame of forgotten happiness flickered in my soul once more.

Finally, I arrived at his fueltank. Its walls greeted me with a friendly squeeze, forcing me to curl into fetal position. I didn't cry anymore; all my worries and demons disappeared long ago, at the second I heard: "How do you feel, little one?"

God! I was so horribly wrong. I thought no one needed me, that I was lost, abandoned... And still, there was someone who couldn't bare me cry.

I felt Optimus' servo laying down on the lump I must have made on his waist, caressing me. I rubbed my head against the spot where I could recognize the pressure and smiled.

I did matter.

#soft vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #transformers vore #transvoremers #willing pred #willing prey #tfp vore #optimus prime vore #hurt/comfort #comfort vore #angst #vore angst

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tokio-motel · 8 months

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gm baeeee i missed uuuu😍😍😍

i jus thought of smth and now i’m gonna give it to youuuu

georg and tom(together cuz like why not and it can be headcanons or a full fic) who got a bf who kinda stims(for example clapping your hands, shaking your fingers, jumping up and down etc etc u can do more research later on if u want) when hes excited or doing things he rlly rlly likes BUT

but but but sadly in the past hes been called weird for it and if tom and georg gave reader smth they know he really likes on the outside it’s gonna look like he doesn’t care for it but he’s actually holding the stims cause he thinks his bfs are gonna find him weird😔🤞🏾(for me holding in stims can be painful cause it feels like your straining or holding in a really bad cough)

OMFG

I GOTTA DO THAT GUSTAV THING U SENT ME

ONE MIMENT

GEORG X MALE READER X TOM

hiiii bae i missed you more 😻😻 if this is bad or inaccurate i apologize, i did try doing some research on the topic aswell

Georg and Tom exchanged excited glances with each other as they placed a perfectly wrapped box infront of their boyfriend. It was a shiny, metallic blue color along with a satin white ribbon. On the side of the box was written "To: M/N" . Tom looked at the boy excitedly, barley being able to contain a huge grin being spread across his face. "For you, M/N!" he chuckled to himself as he watched his eyes widen slightly as your face lit up.

"F..for me?" You questioned, slightly squirming in your seat as you felt your heart beat a little faster, excitement and nervousness pulsing through your veins as you ran your fingers gently along the sides of the beautiful box infront of him. Georg smiled warmly, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear as he looked at the boy with love. "Of course, M/N! You deserve it. Now c'mon, open it!"

With shaking hands, You inched closer to the box, carefully pulling off the blue wrapping paper to reveal a beige colored box, practically begging to be opened. "What could it be.." You muttered quietly to yourself, gently shaking the box making something rattle inside. "Well, it's not a puppy if that's what you were hoping for." Tom's dreads swung behind him as he leaned in closer, his voice tinted with a bit of sarcasm.

You giggled quietly, pushing Tom in the shoulder. You could barley keep still, your hands were shaking and you kept shifting from foot to foot. Georg looked at you expectantly, a warm smile on his face. "Alright, just open it already!" he chuckled, inching a bit closer to you. You took a deep breath as he unfolded the box gently. You drummed your fingers on the sides of the box with one hand as the other went into the box, pushing aside the tissue paper. You grasped the item in your hand, staying like that for just a moment before you hesitantly pulled it out of the box completely.

".. Oh my god." you said breathlessly, your eyes widening and your jaw slightly dropped, rotating the item in your hand. You rocked back and forth on your feet, hands shaking as you tried not to move them to clap or ball them up. You didn't want to drop the item your boyfriends had gotten you, but trying to stay still like this was starting to hurt you and make you more anxious.

Georg smiled at you softly, his hand rubbing your back slowly in circles. "Do you like it, M/N?" he hummed, pecking your cheek gently. You felt your heart beat faster as you gripped onto the item a bit harder, trying to control yourself with a deep breath. "I... Yeah!" you managed, legs bouncing under you. You managed a small smile as you tried to keep your stims and movements to a minimum. You didn't want to scare them or make them nervous, so you tried your best to hide your excitement.

Tom looked at you for a second before slinging an arm around your shoulder, a hand going to yours which was holding the gift. "You don't have to hide anything from us..We want to see you happy, babe." he coaxed, kissing your cheek.

Georg added, "We don't want you to hurt yourself or be uncomfortable. You don't need to hold back." he ran his hands down your sides, rubbing in a circular motion.

You tried to bite back the massive grin but failed, letting out s soft squeal as you tightened your grip on the item, bringing it closer to your face. "Oh my god! How.. How did you even get this?" you bounced on your legs happily, your hands shaking as you placed the item infront of you, looking at it with awe as you clapped your palms together quietly, waves of happiness wracking though your body.

Tom just chuckled, pulling you closer as he brought you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. "A wizard never reveals his secrets." you heard Georg snort beside you, guffawing at Toms comment. "A magician never reveals his secrets," Georg corrected, taking another step close to you guys as he looked down at the resent they had gotten you.

#ermmm the item wasn't specified cuz everybody likes something different 😇#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x male reader #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x male reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x y/n #georg listing x reader #georg listing x male reader #georg listing #dear god this took an hour to write #idk why

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fantasyfantasygames · 1 month

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Lesbian Death Glare

Lesbian Death Glare, Dot Park, 2022

There was a wave of extremely queer games in the late '10s and early dicketies. Thirsty Sword Lesbians is the best-known, but you also have Dungeon Bitches, This Party Sucks, Violet the Menace, Lichcraft, etc. Lesbian Death Glare goes the "Eye Beams" path that has not, perhaps, been as well-trod as some others. It's also an in-joke. (References for those who aren't familiar: Lesbian Bed Death, Lesbian Death Bed)

Your characters are hella gay lesbians who were caught in the blast of a ghost-rock gamma bomb and all gained weird mutations. None of them are physically obvious. They all leave minor traces on your bodies (eyes that change color, hair that is always moving a little, a spine that sticks out just a little) but they're hard to spot at first. Each of you has a high-side-effect superpower. For example: the titular death glare that also partially calcifies people and things caught behind the target. Flight sprouts wings of blue fire that scorch people near you unless you're holding them tight. A painful deafening shout, a force field that slowly locks you in place, a light that everyone has to fight to avoid looking at. I feel like there's some good allegory here.

Chargen is mostly pick-lists. You could roll a character in 10 minutes, counting the time it takes you to fill in the character sheet. Players are encouraged to come up with new skills and powers with their GM's assistance.

The game uses a simple but somewhat unusual die-step system. In your weak point you roll 1d4. For most things you roll 2d6 and take the highest. Your highest normal stat or a weaker superpower rolls 3d8 take the highest. A standard superpower rolls 4d10 take the highest. When you get a bonus you can either roll an extra die or step up a die to the next-highest level, and you can pick up multiple bonuses without much trouble. High-level abilities have pretty serious dominance but can still occasionally lose.

What the game lacks compared to most of its kin is a sense of place. There isn't much for setting here, and the art is too scattered to really be effective at conveying a feel. It doesn't have the high-concept action of TSL or the raw brutality of Dungeon Bitches. That's a shame, because I love the basic idea of superpowers that are metaphors for femininity and/or queer experiences and/or just plain human emotional nature.

Dot Park is working on LDG2, which addresses those issues. The rules are staying mostly the same, but she has an artist picked out (after firing the first one for using generative AI), the setting is getting more detail, she's writing some play advice... and until then the original game is offline. Fingers crossed we get to see it soon.

#ttrpg #imaginary #indie ttrpg #rpg #review #never take your first game offline while you write your second #unless you were accidentally racist #then you should probably take it down

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thebluehairedgm · 3 months

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"*I* did this, and I'm gonna fix it." ~Delsin Rowe; *inFamous: Second Son*

#ps4 share #ps4 photomode #infamous second son #delsin rowe #infamous delsin #smoke neon video #thebluehairedgm #the blue haired gm #superhero #super powers

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aphroditesbaby1616 · 2 months

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Goddess - Chapter One Steve Harrington

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics - "Lay all your love on me" (ABBA) " It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby I was stuck. I still don't know what you've done with me; A grown-up woman should never fall so easily..."

♡ Summary: Steve x Persephone do some heavy flirting, Robin is grossed out, but- She forgives Steve since he picks a movie for the 3 of them containing their mutual favorite - tits.

♡ W/C: 1,816

♡ Posted Date: 03/09/2024

♡ A/N: It's here!!! It's finally here! This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote a few months ago & posted to AO3 - I am such a softie for some Stevey omgg I really love him!! IMO He is one of the most important characters in the entire show, his character growth is beautiful, Genuinely - as a Character Steve Is so complex and wonderful and such a good person, so I had to write for him hehe!

♡ Warnings for BTC: None really! Oh - Robin getting a pack of gum to the face for being a cheeky bitch, and swearing.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥. -

I'm awoken to a sudden rapping on my door, “Persephone!!” Robin said as she flung my bedroom door open, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. “Dude- you seriously fell back asleep? We need to be leaving in 5 minutes! I am not the person to be timekeeper!” I sit up quickly, fuck- fell back asleep again.

I jumped up out of bed quickly, my pajamas wrinkled from sleep. “Uh-” I lift my hand quickly, wiping dried drool from the corner of my mouth. “Sorry- sorry,” I stumble past her over tiredly to my dresser, digging out a pair of jeans and a striped blue sweater.

“Dude- Steve is my friend, but he told me yesterday that if I’m late one more time and he doesn’t write me up, the GM is gonna fire him - Hurry UP!” she said annoyed as she returned to the bathroom. I stripped my pajamas off quickly.

By the time I’d gotten outside and hopped in the driver's seat of my mom’s wood-paneled station wagon that’d been passed down to me when she died, starting it quickly and peeling out of the driveway, we were already a good 5 minutes behind, but I didn’t doubt that I could make it up if I just focused really hard while driving.

“I don’t know how we haven't gotten in an accident yet” Robin mutters as I slow down briefly at the stop sign to be sure no one is coming before speeding off again.

“If we were in one, Steve would be a real ass to give you a write-up” I teased, earning a giggle from her.

We got to the video store in one piece thankfully, and pulled into a parking spot. “Comin’ in?” she asked, grabbing her backpack from the back.

“Yup, wanna pick out a movie for t’night, we're still getting Chinese right?” I questioned. She nods with a smile popping open her door and stepping out.

“Wouldn’t miss it, but please not another romance- I can’t handle your weeping” she teased, I giggled a bit, nudging her with my hip.

“You cried too! The Rachel Papers was fuckin’ amazing! You can’t deny.” I pulled the door open for us and Steve’s head popped up from the paperwork he was looking at on the counter, a stray adorable clump of hair falling over his forehead with the movement, causing him to sweep it back with his hand absentmindedly.

He glances at the clock on the wall, smiling “15 seconds and you’dve been fired” he jokes, causing Robin to snort a laugh as she walks behind the counter, dropping her backpack in a heap on the floor.

“Sure like you’d lose your best employee right?” she replied, causing him to laugh a bit.

“What brings you in, goddess? How may I be of service? ” he teased me with that boyish smile of his. I rolled my eyes lightly, biting back an amused grin.

“You’ll never stop calling me that, mm?” I wandered over to the romance section to which Robin groans.

“Shes here to torture me. Apparently, a ride to work every day means she always gets to choose the movies we watch, Steve can you puhhhhleeease start bringing me again?” She whined dramatically, causing Steve to chuckle.

“You like romance, mm?” He follows me into the isle. I felt my heart quicken in my chest, butterflies swarming my stomach. I’d thought Steve was so cute ever since I’d moved here, but I’m far too shy to make a move myself- and he’s one of Robins best friends. It feels like it’s breaking girl code, if not family code to not make a move on one of your cousin's best friends.

Even if they were as charismatic, and kind, and handsome as Steve Harrington.

“Mmhmm” I hummed, stopping and picking up a random movie, hoping he was just coming back here to do some work.

“That one’s no good” he plucked the copy of Love Story out of my hands, looking over the back “Yeah, this one’s a bore. You want somethin’ really steamy?” He takes a movie off the second to top shelf and extends it to me.

I smile a bit “Manhattan? Really? Didn’t peg you as a Woody Allen guy” I turn it over to read the excerpt. Robin makes a dramatic ‘bleh’ noise causing me to snort.

“Ew! He seems like a total skeez.” She said and I giggled, looking up at Steve, then over at Robin, before back at him again.

“I guess it’s a no go…” I said softly, gently offering it to him.

“Robin!” He looks back at her and she looks up from the stack of movies she was coding into the computer. “There’s boobies.” He stated, raising his eyebrows.

I laughed, even harder so when Robin sat up at the mention of potentially seeing bare chests. “Deal, she’ll take it.” She nodded, going back to highlighting movies as she punched them in.

“See she just takes a little convincing” he nudges the tape back towards me with a grin. I smiled, shaking my head amusedly.

“You are a really good friend to her, you know that right, Harrington?” I said quietly, so only we could hear. His cheeks went pink, the smile on his face growing slightly.

“I try. She’s not too bad herself.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. “Uh- I was gonna tell you y’know if she- if she didn’t want to watch it with you, I don’t mind a good romance”

Now my cheeks were certainly pink. “Oh!” I manage to squeak out, my nails nervously picking at the tattered please rewind sticker on the case of the tape. “Sure- sure, I mean. Yeah! Come- come over, if you want to watch it with us. I’m sure she’s gonna like- pass out. After 20 minutes, you probably know how she is” I swallowed quickly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry and my voice sounding small.

“Shit I didn’t- sorry I didn’t mean to like…invite myself? I just- I dunno, I hate watching movies alone” he clears his throat awkwardly. I bit the inside of my lip to contain a grin.

Was I making Steve Harrington nervous?

“Please invite yourself over any time, I can only handle her ramblings for so many hours before my head starts to hurt” I said loud enough just to tease her and she sits up.

“Hey! You said you love when I talk to you about stuff!” She pouts and I giggled.

“I’m just kidding tweedle-dee. C’mon y’know I love you” I went over to her, planting a large wet smooch on her cheek just to mess with her.

She groans, pulling away and wiping her cheek. “God I feel bad for any boys you’re sucking face with if that’s how you kiss” she teased.

Steve came back around the counter, leaning on his elbows and looking at me.

“Member card please” he said, holding his hand out with a smile. I rolled my eyes slightly, “can’t just use Robins?” I huff, digging around in my purse.

“That would be against policy, what kind of boss would I be if I broke the rules right Robin?” He looks over to her and she laughs.

“You are one to talk about rules, mister I-go-over-10-minutes-every-break.” She said and shook her head. “You just have a yucky crush on my cousin and want her to stay longer,” she said causing us both to blush.

“Dude shut up” he kicks her shin and she groans and winces at the contact.

“OW! You’re a Butthead” she muttered, and I looked up at him with a small smile on my lips.

“And what if I don’t have it?” I asked, resting just in front of him on the counter, leaning on my hand and looking at him with big doe eyes from under my lashes.

One of his famous, half Steve smirks appears on his lips, leaning in, mirroring my position, and looking into my gaze at eye level.

“Guess you’re real lucky that I’m comin’ over then, I guess I could take responsibility of the movie…since you’re such a loyal customer, and a friend” he said, his eyes flickering to my lips momentarily.

“Wow…Who’d have guessed Steve Harrington is such the gentleman?” I slide the tape towards him, our fingers brushing.

“Oh gag- Will you two just get a room?!” Robin groans and I raise my eyebrows, looking over at her.

“S’you wouldn’t beeee…” I narrow my eyes, hoping she got the hint.

“EW! You think I care?! Have at it, weirdos” she said, and my eyes flicked back to his hazel ones.

“Care about what?” he asked, obliviously.

“That I hear her like ‘ohhhh steeeeveee!!’ in the shower at least once a week, she has the total hots for you” she said and I nearly choked on a gasp, chucking the closest thing to me at her head which just so happened to be Steves pack of spearmint gum.

“OW! Will you both stop hitting me?!” she said frustratedly and Steve laughs.

“She's saying what in the shower now?!” he turns towards her, a wide shit eating grin on his face.

Smug bastard.

I give her the ‘try me, say it again’ eyes and she laughs, trying to play it off.

“Oh - kiddinggg! Just kidding.” she said, shooting me a ‘please, spare me.’ look.

“Girls are weird” he muttered, punching his member ID in from memory, and scanning the movie before handing it to me. “Due in 14 days, don’t be late- I got a stellar record” he smiled a bit. “Do I get one of those kisses you gave Robin? Y’know, for being so lenient” he wiggled his eyebrows and I rolled my eyes, cheeks still bright cherry red from Robin’s slick comments.

I shrug a bit, “Sure, C’mere, pretty-boy” I stood up with a small smile and he came around the counter, hands tucked behind his back and leaning so my lips were perfect height with his cheek.

“Waiting” he said softly. I snort a laugh, leaning in and pressing my lips to his cheek gently, lingering for a little longer than needed, but neither of us seemed to mind.

When I pulled away, his eyes were still fluttered shut, his cheeks the same tinge of red that surely matched mine.

“Totally not at all the kiss I got, but okay” Robin mutters and I turn, sending her a death glare and digging around my purse for something else to throw. She covers her head and face in her hands nervously “Sorry! I can’t help it!” she squeaks. I look back at Steve. “Handle my light stuff while I’m gone, yeah? See you at 6 Harrington, this movie better be as hot and steamy as you say.” I said next to his ear softly before turning and leaving before he could stutter a reply.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋘ 𝐖𝐈𝐏 ♡♡♡ ⋙

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things netflix #stranger things #steve harrington smut #MDNI Banners + Cottage Core dividers by #saradika

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christiansorrell · 5 months

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Play-By-Blog #10: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our map: The Isle

[You can use the links above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle. On the map, you are currently at 3.]

Now, back to the adventure!

[Our most one-sided poll yet! It turns out when you give most people the option of going down into a mysterious hole, even if it may not be the safest/smartest option, they just can't help themselves! I'm excited to see how this goes! Onward!]

You look back down the stone shaft. After that fight with the fisherman monk, the idea of the monastery weighs on you. There are many more men in there. Men are unpredictable. Even if they lived up to their supposedly godly nature and granted you access or even a place to rest between now and the return of the ship from the mainland, they'd undoubtedly have questions. They could find the body in the cove. They could find the disturbed graves. No, best to check for other ways first before you breach that place.

You securely anchor the grappling hook and silk rope, lowering it down into the shaft. The birds continue to caw and flap their wings at you from the nearby edges of the stone formation. You take one last look across the Isle and descend down into the shaft.

The tunnel itself is rough on the edges, angled and wide enough to climb without the rope but it would be a considerable, possibly dangerous effect. You are happy to have found that odd grave. Thankful to the woman who planned better than you before she came to this place.

The further you descend the more the darkness surrounds you and the less the sunlight from far above is able to reach you. All around you, the rock thrums with the constant crashing of the waves. You are deep within the isle now, and its heart beats all around you.

You're feet touch down on flat ground and you let go of the rope. You turn and have to crouch, looking out from under what appears to be a mantle, soot at your feet. You are in a fireplace, unused for years— maybe centuries. What little light is left here spills out across the room.

Leeches cling to 5 [2d6 roll: 5] skeletons, their bones a strange blackish blue are stained in swirling patterns and writhing with leeches that glisten in the little light. Beards still hang from their skulls. Several spears and swords rest among them. They writhe slowly in place.

At their center, you see another skeleton. A shock of white, nearly glowing hair hanging from its head. Leeches crawl inside its rib cage. A slew of golden rings hang from its bony fingers, rattling as its slowly moves. As its mouth opens, the squealing of the leeches—all of them—form a single voice.

"Well, now... I was not expecting you, but I am not one to turn away guests of any kind, be they invited or not. Come, rest here after your descent."

The few leeches in the center of the room crawl back in the skeletons direction, as if clearing space for you to sit.

"I am Fionn Ó Ceannaigh, and I am the rightful ruler of a land far from here. You need not fear me. You are free to leave, of course. Out there." He gestures towards the shadow of a doorway across the room. Beyond its frame is nothing but pitch black darkness. "But that is my fireplace and my chimney. If you wish to use it again, let us make a deal. I believe we may work together, if you would be so kind. But first, tell me of your troubles. Tell me why you are here."

You take a deep breathe and wonder if the monks really could have been any worse.

[EDIT: The second to last option in this poll should read "Cast Teleport (19/20 chance of success) and flee back to the surface." Sorry for the typo!]

[We are really in it now! From the relative calm of the Isle's surface to the hidden horrors deep below ground. I'm excited to see what y'all choose and how it all starts to play out next week.]

[As always, if you'd like to see Medon do something that is not listed as part of the poll, please reblog or leave a comment with your idea. If enough folks feel the same way, they will be considered similarly to the poll options. If there's a glaring oversight on my part too, I'll be sure to address that. - Christian]

EDIT: Play-By-Blog #11 is live now!

#meatcastle pbb #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpgs #rpg #luke gearing #play by blog #play by post #the isle #fantasy #polls #choose your own adventure

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kaunis-sielu · 1 year

Text

Frozen: First Day

You don’t think you slept much last night. After getting back to Steve and Cat’s and giving Goose lots of love you’d gone to bed.

You were so excited to get to work that you’d been almost a half hour early to practice. You almost get lost on your way to the GM Hela’s office. You’d met her at the job interview and while she’d been terrifying you’d also admired her. As far as you were aware she is the only female GM in the NHL so she had to be relatively terrifying.

You head into the trainer’s room and nearly walk into a half naked Thor.

“Oh, sorry. I’m looking for Jane.” You say, as Thor stares down at you in surprise. “Do you know where she is?”

“You’re Cat’s Moxie.” He says, and you nod.

“Um yea, and I’m looking for Jane.”

“Why?”

“She’s the trainer who’s supposed to show me the ropes?”

“What?”

“I work here now? I’m the new athletic trainer.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t sound pleased or disappointed by this fact, you’re not sure that’s a good or bad thing. “Um, I think she’s in the back with Loki and the ice bath.” He says hitching a thumb over his shoulder.

“Awesome, thank you.” You tell him with a bright smile. God you’re glad that no one else was around to witness this exchange. It’s been so fucking awkward.

“Moxie?”

“Yea?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Last night?”

“Yea.” You give him a little half shrug,

“Didn’t seem like the right time. You should have some Pedialyte and some pain killers.”

“I’m, uh I’m not hungover.” He looks it, blurry eyes, tired face.

“Oh. Sorry, I just assumed with how Loki said you were celebrating…” you let the word trail off and Thor gives you a tight lipped smile.

“Just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Okay, well, water is your best friend. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks Moxie.” You nod then head for the back of the room where there’s a door that says ‘baths’ on it. You knock as you slowly push open the door and when your gaze meets Loki’s ice blue one he looks as surprised as his brother.

“Moxie?”

“Hey, I’m looking for Jane.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m Jane.” A pretty light brown haired woman says with furrowed brows, “who are you?” You introduce yourself and realization dawns on her face.

“I go by Moxie.” You tell her with a smile, “I met Loki and Thor last night.”

“Oh, awesome. So Loki has five more minutes in the ice bath, he’s got a hip injury that flared yesterday at practice.”

“Okay.”

“I have a whole ass binder of injuries and things we have to do for each player. You’re going to be working with the second line for now.” She says as she leads you away. Out of the corner of your eye you see Loki grab his phone and start to text someone.

“Sounds good.” You agree as she leads you into a little room.

“Okay, here you go. Start with Ian, Kraglin, Tyr, Richard and Korg.”

“Perfect thank you.” You tell her, it’s a little weird that she’s assigned you the second line and second goalie but you’re not going to argue.

You’re reading through Korg’s information when someone knocks on the door. You look up as a bald man sticks his head inside.

“You Moxie?”

“Yea.”

“I’m Korg. I need my ankles wrapped.”

“Oh, I was just reading through your binder. I’ll come out.” You tell him closing the binder and following him out. You grab some tape and a pair of gloves and get to work, Thor is talking to Jane over on another bench.

You’re kept busy for a while before practice then you take a couple of the binders and head out to be on the bench for practice. It’s chaotic and fun and you cannot believe this is your life.

It’s not until you’re packing up to leave that Thor stops you. His hair is wet from a shower and god it’s not fair how good he looks.

“Hey, how did your first day go?”

“Good. Chaotic but honestly, I love it.” You tell him with a wide smile.

“I’m happy to hear that. Korg said your wraps on his ankles were some of the best he’s ever had.”

“Oh good, I’ve been doing athletic training for a while now. This isn’t even the first professional team I’ve worked for.”

“Who did you work for before?”

“Eternals.”

“Oh, not another hockey team?”

“No.” He doesn’t need to know that it’s because of your ex that you didn’t even try for the Giants. They were the hockey team that was in the same city as the Eternals, but with Skurge playing on their team you’d had no desire to work for them. You’d dated Skurge before he insisted on being called Skurge, thank god, because you couldn’t take that seriously. “But I have a meeting so I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tell him with a smile before grabbing your bag and heading out to meet Yelena and see her apartment.

🏒🏒🏒

This is a series of one shots. If you have any suggestions or ideas for Thor and Moxie please let me know.

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @wonderlandfandomkingdom @killcomet @abschaffer2 @sass-masterkittenmama

#hockey player thor x reader #hockey player au #hockey player thor #ice hockey player thor x reader #ice hockey player thor #thor x reader #Thor x reader au #frozen story

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cypriathus · 10 days

Text

Here is one of my anti-villain OCs!

WARNING: There is a brief mention of genitalia and I go into detail about how abandonment issues affect the following character.

Shtoparvuzke Kerumazhov is a 43-year-old Russian-born incubus that serves as an anti-villain assassin for the Gloomy Meadowlark Syndicate (GMS). When he encounters new people, he’s mousy and cautious at first, but will become more bold and congenial overtime. He's a hard-working individual, but there are occasional instances where he slacks off due to feeling somewhat slothful and unmotivated to do his duties and daily chores. He has a habit of talking too much in a tactless manner, and his verbal aggression is all directed at people who get under his skin. He finds solace in pulling pranks and telling jokes, but will drop the act when the person he’s goofing around with is being serious and feeling uncomfortable. He’s highly opinionated when it comes to environmental and political matters, and can be quite defensive when people try to challenge his worldview. Like most libertine demons, he’s a flirtatious seducer that enjoys living a life of hedonism and sexual prowess, but tries to lead a healthier sex life. He has a great deal of pride in himself and is courageously self-expressive, telling people off when he receives unnecessary backlash for being his authentic self. He’s overprotective of his friends and coworkers as well as vulnerable members of society and the natural environment. He absolutely despises abusers of any kind, and possesses an unyielding soft spot for animals and flowers. He shows numerous signs and symptoms of abandonment issues such as seeking out reassurance that people won’t leave him, trouble with communication, and difficulty trusting the intentions of others. Shtoparvuzke also experiences struggles with emotional intimacy, anxiety within his relationships, feelings of worthlessness, and excessive neediness.

In his common human form, height is close to 5’ 10” (177.8 cm) and his body type is a rectangular mesomorph with a chiselled musculature, square chest, and a well-endowed penis. He has thin lips, mildly tan skin, ice green eyes, and medium-length, lived-in, middle-parted red blonde hair with natural curls and sideburns. He has saffron-yellow stitches on his arm and leg joints, a strangely smooth body, and pearly white teeth with prominent canines. His back is carved with a Slavic hexafoil that creates a blue-orange aura around his being during times of danger, protecting him from fire, storms, lightning, and war. He wears a blue-and-white telnyashka and a burgundy button-up T-shirt that he leaves wide open. He has a dark aqua Russian honour guard’s standing-collar tunic with a blood red plastron and steel-grey sneakers. He dons jeans that have EMR camouflage and an oversized Siberian lynx fur jacket for the coldest days of autumn and winter. His black rabbit fur ushanka possesses earflaps and an embroidered insignia of a cornflower with a fiery sun peering from the horizon behind it. He has a big olive-green duffle bag full of cartridges for his firearms as well as a PL-15K Lebedev pistol with a suppressor, a NRS-2, a RMB-93, a Lobaev Sniper Rifle, and a GM-94. For his GM-94, he carries around VGM-93.900 high explosive fragmentations, VGM-93.100 thermobaric ammunition, VGM-93.300 smoke and VGM-93.200 tear gas canisters, and VGM-93.600 rubber slugs in his duffle bag.

In his demonic form, he retains the same height and body type, but appears to be a bit smaller and noticeably slimmer. He has charcoal black skin, bronze-hued roe deer hooves, cape bushbuck horns, large bat-like wings, rusty red carnivorous teeth, and a body that’s abnormally cold. His luminescent tail of yellow-orange possesses the shape of a flying bolide with a white circular tip that’s outlined with glowing cyan. His shimmering azure mane is in a medium-length shaggy crop, and he has curly circumareolo-sternal chest and disperse abdominal hair in the same hue. His serpentine sunburst green-gold eyes have light red pupils, black sclera, and no eyelids. His head is adorned with a flower crown of myrtle, periwinkle, and red mistletoe berries, which was a gift from his adoptive mother. He dons a silver waist girdle of dried cornflowers, a raspberry-hued sharovary, and luxor gold anklets with a metallic green sheen.

Shtoparvuzke was born with the Curse of Litavets, which causes anyone he loves to experience weight loss, insanity, suicidal thoughts, and vivid hallucinations of supernatural torment. Any gift that he tries to give to those he platonically and romantically loves turns into horse viscera at sunrise. He can take on the appearance of a deceased spouse or lover to seduce people and use his malleable body to alternate between his regular self and his usual human form. He projects seductive thoughts into the subconscious of mortal beings and lesser immortals, stimulating their brains’ pleasure centres through touch, voice, and thought. His kiss can either kill a person through soul absorption and tantric metabolization or enslave them, depending on his current intentions when the individual he’s dealing with. He can enter the dreams of sleepers and manipulate them, turn invisible, and hypnotise people through whispering sweet nothings in their ears. He’s able to use flowers to teleport across the multiverse and understand and speak all languages, but can’t write them. He can put people to sleep by whispering a string of gibberish words during noon and cause severe headaches, paralysis, and lower back pain. Similar to all libertine demons, Shtoparvuzke possesses greater physical capabilities and attributes that are far superior to that of the average human.

FAMILY:

Unnamed succubus mother

Unnamed human adoptive parents

Guloteva Lykzresupa (lover)

Veltozurich Skulazorte (ex-boyfriend)

Shunazlobime Girvathenopus D’Lampekotinus (ex-girlfriend)

Many ex-partners

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

Shtopar (by most people and self-proclaimed)

Aggressive sex friend (by Tefsakomphuni)

Pussy-fingering fuckup (by Tefsakomphuni)

Fiery Serpent (by Tulvagoren)

Ljubomora (“love torture” in Serbian) (by Mesciwojna)

Quần què (“a sanitation pad” in Vietnamese) (by Budiechalon)

The Liar Beyond’s Grace Reach (by K’Teschalopzurvi)

Schluckspecht (“guzzling woodpecker” in German) (by Veltozurich)

My drinking pal (by Veltozurich)

Retarded dhole (by Ymgaliten)

Gutball (by Blovazurcht)

My statue of delights (by Guloteva)

My handsome lil’ cornflower (by Guloteva)

Kardoula mou (“my little heart” in Greek) (by Guloteva)

Mister Gancanagh (by the Dobhavulen siblings)

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

He’s omniromantic

As an Æylphitus, the different parts of his name have special meanings: Shtoparvuzke means “corkscrew” and Kerumazhov means “black stain”.

His mother gave birth to him in a corn field somewhere in Izborsk and abandoned him shortly after, but would end up being raised by an unmarried human couple.

He’s still surprised that his human parents bothered to adopt him and raise them as their own due to being an incubus.

Once he was a toddler, he mastered his shapeshifting abilities and adopted a human form to blend in with the rest of society and his household.

He likes to give beautiful gifts to grieving individuals and help with maintaining the livestock that his family possesses.

He finds solace in roaming the fields of open country during midday

He tries to spend as much time with his lover due to being aware that she’s slowly dying because of his curse affecting her.

Due to the lack of a spinal cord, his body has a fifth type of vein, which he refers to as the neuronic veins. The neuronic veins cover a good majority of his internal body, carrying neurons back and forth from the brain to whatever body part he intends to control.

He’s completely deaf in his left ear

He can’t pronounce certain words that pertain to religious beliefs and love

He prefers to attack people by breaking their arms, legs, and/or neck

His secret bodily weakness or physical Achilles’ heel is his left testicle

#writerscorner #creative writing #writing #abandonment issues #abandonment tw #original character #personality #physical appearance #outfit #abilities #power #incubus #anti-villain #russian #slavic mythology #fiery serpent #cornflower wraith #fun facts #extra information

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skippyv20 · 1 year

Photo

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim here trying to help many see the major problems with this kind of cut & paste photo job. The creators did not do a good job with the body proportions! They are way off! Also, as mentioned on another site, the flash should have caste a big shadow behind PA. That is really a big mistake. Also, GM is only 5’ 4" (I checked many sites and most say this is her height) so she should not be taller standing behind VG. Here are more press notes about this timeline showing how outlandish VG’s outfit is for this fake photo!

“March 2001 - Infamous photograph of Virginia, Ghislaine and Prince Andrew is reportedly taken at Ghislaine’s home in London.” It was reported VG was in Mayfair at Tramp, which is a members only nightclub called “The Hedonistic Mayfair Nightclub…or the most decadent club in London…debached nightclub” Why is a teenager allowed to show up in this casual outfit going to that kind of place? Women tend to wear much more glitzy-glam outfits. Kids are probably not allowed in. Here is something from a site called Privilege Entertainment with dress code rules for places like this. “Dress-Code for Ladies -If you are on the guestlist or you have a private/VIP table booked you must adhere to the London Clubs dress code rules. We have gathered here some quick tips. ● Outfit: a cocktail / mini / short dress (black is the best choice but also blue, white and red); also black trousers and crop top/shirt; jeans are fine; skirt/mini-skirt with a sexy T-shirt/shirt. ● Shoes: heels are a must, better if high heels. Elegant boots are a good alternative. Avoid flat shoes, trainers and sandals. ● Makeup & hairstyle: never forget to enhance your eyes with some mascara or eyeliner and have clean, fixed hair (ponytail, bun, straight). You can freestyle a bit but do not overdo.” Next party event where VG shows up in this outfit is with GM looking rather timid and out of place. “May 2001 - Naomi Campbell hosted a boat party in the French Riviera with Jeffrey Epstein, Virginia, Ghislaine Maxwell all attending.” Campbell’s birthday is May 22. 1970. The birthday party must have been close to that date. In photos you can see her clearly baffled why a very young, diminutive, blond teenager-wearing this exact outfit-is standing in front of her looking lost in the stern of the yacht in St. Tropez, swimming with sharks.

Over and out from a pretty day on the Cape.

Great post! And the artwork…wow! Thank you!!!!🙂❤️

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