Sav🦇22

Jack O’Connell brainrot sideblog

[southlandvamp]

About Me

Sav (she/her)

22

MS native

White girl, mostly Irish with a hint of Choctaw

I follow from @southlandghost

MDNI, you’ll be blocked. No exceptions, 18+ only. Respect my fucking boundaries.

You can send requests, but I can’t guarantee that they’ll be written.

I work full time, so I don’t have a posting schedule. You’ll get what I post when I post it.

DMs for mutuals only.

[southlandvamp]

Hey guys. Just wanted to say sorry for pretty much abandoning this blog and my writing.

I got real sick after my wedding and after months of doctors appointments and over a year of pain, I finally have a rheumatologist appointment.

As of right now, it’s looking like either lupus or arthritis, which sucks bc I only just turned 22.

I can’t write as much as I used to due to wrist pain. Had to quit my job at the daycare that I loved bc I couldn’t keep up with the babies due to my pain/constant fevers/brain fog.

I will be going back to college soon for a degree in early childhood education, though!

Hopefully after my rheumatologist appointment, we can find something that’ll help manage my pain and I can begin writing again. Until then, I’m still here, just not as active lol.

[southlandvamp]

[jinx-xxed]

[jackoconnells-suspenders]

Some photo edits I did a while back of Remmick without the watermark for my Widgetsmith layout on my phone. The only new one Ive done is the third one (@scrprints inspired me to try my hand at a monochromatic version of that picture too).

You can use them for whatever you want, credit isn’t required but appreciated ^^ if you use them and wanna tag me go for it I’d love to see what you do with them. All I ask is that you don’t repost them/claim them as your own.

Happy Holidays everyone!

-Raven

[scrprints]

[southlandvamp]

This isn’t fanfic/remmick/sinners related BUT I wanted to ask:

If I made a YouTube channel and a video about my personal experience growing up in Mississippi, particularly centered around the music I grew up with and how it influenced me and my style, would anyone be interested?

[a-rome-of-ones-own]

dropping tmrw ✮⋆˙

remmick x witch!reader

wc: 4.7k (holy yap)

summary: appalachia, 1931. now that he’s known the warmth of your doorway, he’ll do anything to claw his way in. anything.

warnings: sex (f receiving, p in v); brief murder; violence; spooky shit man

[kitskull]

I did a “Draw this in your style” because I love what this artist did @hatethysinner Remmick was a naughty boy 😌 @thlaylisden

[flixpii]

different positions with farmer!remmick

a/n : i don't think y'all understand how much this man is under my skin... need him so bad

mdni 18+ : unprotected sex (p in v), messy messy sex, deep thrusting/cervix contact, creampie, praise, begging, different sex positions (missionary, doggy-style, cowgirl), nipple play, crying during sex, light drool

doggystyle — in the barn, bent over a crate, his belt still dangling from one loop

you’re bent over, ass arched high, sweat running down the curve of your back. the wood under your hands creaks with every thrust, but you can’t even hear it over the wet, filthy sounds coming from between your legs. remmick’s behind you, shirt off, jeans halfway down, chest gleaming with sweat, face flushed dark with shame and lust.

he’s fucking you deep. real deep. thick cock splitting you open with every thrust, dragging obscene slick from your cunt that’s coating his thighs, soaking the base of him, dripping down your legs like he just made you come five times in a row—and he probably has.

“lord, help me,” he gasps, voice wrecked. “i can’t stop… i can’t—she’s squeezin’ me so—”

his hand’s flat on your back, pressing you down like he’s scared you’ll get away. the other’s wrapped around your middle, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, messy circles that make you cry out, toes curling in your boots. his rhythm is frantic now—hips slapping your ass so fast and so wet it sounds like you’re getting wrecked in the middle of a rainstorm.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes into the back of your neck, actually apologizing as he fucks you harder. “feels so good, i cain’t help it. y’feel like heaven, darlin’, i swear—”

you’re drooling. crying. begging. and all he can do is hold your hips and stay buried in that sloppy mess of cum and slick, moaning your name like a prayer.

he comes deep. stutters, groans, twitches, and fills you up so warm you feel it gush out around him. but he doesn’t pull out. doesn’t even slow down. just ruts through it, cock still hard, leaking, breath hitching every time your ass bounces back and squelches around him.

“gonna give you another,” he pants, forehead pressed to your spine. “jus’… jus’ let me stay in. lemme make a mess.”

and he does. over and over. slow, filthy strokes that never stop.

missionary — in his narrow farmhouse bed, sheets ruined, legs pushed up, his chest pressed to yours

he’s on top of you, knees sinking into the mattress, body hot and heavy, breath trembling against your lips. the room smells like sweat and sex, the sheets already damp underneath you both, and remmick’s cock is buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting something sacred.

he’s shaking—you can feel it in his arms, in his thighs, in the way his chest trembles against yours. he’s holding himself up on one arm, the other hand cupping the back of your thigh to keep you pinned open for him. polite boy, respectful boy, but right now? he’s gone. flushed red to the ears, curls stuck to his forehead, mouth hovering over yours like he’s begging for a kiss even as he keeps grinding himself into your guts.

his thrusts aren’t fast—they’re deep. thick, slow rolls of his hips, sliding all the way out until just the tip clings to your entrance before pushing back in so full and so heavy you can feel him in your belly. every time he sinks in, you choke on a breath and his face crumples like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon.

“i—i’m tryin’ not to rush,” he pants quietly, voice all broken, “but you’re—lord, you’re squeezin’ me so hard—”

your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he whimpers. an actual whimper. his face drops to your neck, and he thrusts harder, hips meeting yours with wet, sticky sounds, slick from both of you smearing across his pelvis and down your ass.

he nuzzles your throat like he’s overwhelmed by you—breathing you in, clutching at your waist, grunting under his breath with every push, those big pecs brushing your chest, jiggling from the force of his hips snapping forward, nipples rubbing against your skin, both of you sweaty and shaking and lost.

you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, and he makes a sound you’ve never heard—half sob, half groan—his cock throbbing inside you like it’s trying to pulse its way deeper. your nails drag again, harder this time, and he almost folds, hips stuttering like you just hit his weak spot.

he kisses you sloppily, gasping between each kiss, whispers all shaky and reverent against your lips:

“don’t let go… don’t stop holdin’ me…”

and then he breaks—thrusts turning frantic, sloppy, desperate, sweat dripping from his hairline to your collarbone as he comes deep inside you, hips pressed flush, cock pulsing in thick, hot spurts that spill out around him when he tries to keep fucking it in.

he doesn’t pull out.

just keeps pushing, slow and sticky, like he’s trying to keep himself inside you.

his voice is barely a breath, lips pressed to your cheek, chest heaving against yours:

“still got more in me. ain’t done yet.”

and you feel him—still hard, still throbbing—refusing to go soft, cock leaking inside you, grinding gentle and filthy as his breath shakes and he tries to catch control he doesn’t have anymore.

cowgirl — in his bed, shirt still on, cock so deep he’s about to cry

you’re straddling him slow, dragging your hips in thick, wet rolls that leave his cock glistening and twitching inside you. remmick’s got both hands trembling on your thighs, trying to be good, trying not to grip too tight—but every time you grind down, his fingers squeeze harder, and his head falls back with a whine caught in his throat.

he’s flushed deep, sweat beading at his hairline, his chest rising fast beneath his worn henley—buttons popped, nipples pressed against the fabric.

“i don’t know what—” he pants, eyes glassy, voice pitched soft and panicked. “i can’t—i don’t know what t’do with m’self when you—”

you cut him off with another drop of your hips, thighs slapping his. his cock jerks inside you, fat and swollen and so deep. the wet sounds between your bodies are filthy—your slick smeared all down his balls, dripping to the sheets, frothy and loud with every bounce.

he groans through his teeth when your hands drag up his chest, shirt clinging to him like a second skin. you pinch his nipples through the fabric—just a little—and he bucks, hips thrusting up hard enough to punch a gasp out of you.

you grin. he looks wrecked. sweat running into his lashes, lips parted, moaning your name like a prayer that keeps getting cut off by how good you feel around him.

“ain’t never—never been touched like this,” he stammers, holding your hips tighter now, grinding up into you like he’s trying to fuck you back. “y’gon’ ruin me, darlin’…”

and you do. you ride him until his thighs are shaking, until he’s moaning without shame, chest heaving, cock twitching in your cunt with every bounce. he comes with a cry, half lifting you off the bed with the force of it, thick release spilling out around the base of his cock.

but he doesn’t tell you to stop. not once. just grips your ass and keeps moving, messy and slow, cum leaking out of you and down his balls while his cock stays hard inside, twitching, overstimulated and needy.

you lean in close, mouth against his cheek, and his breath hitches like he’s about to cry from how good it feels.

“still got more for me,” you murmur. “don’t you?”

and he nods—fast, frantic, already lifting his hips up into you again.

“’course i do,” he breathes, voice wrecked and eager. “jus’—jus’ don’t stop ridin’ me yet.”

and you don’t.

you ride him until he’s wet with sweat and drool and cum and begging for mercy he doesn’t want.

tags (if you have filled out the taglist form, but you aren't on here, the blog is not showing up ! try refilling it out) : @bleedingsunlight @mysticvi @theabhartachsbride @cherryxhaze @croccy-hoes @nlnny @valvalvalval-val @h3r3t1c @avidreader73 @iceemochaa @skankhvnt42 @ceobuggy

[xcosmicjade]

SHE!

my Ko-fi

[teaboot]

IT’S A PAINTING

[southlandvamp]

Let’s say hypothetically. I made a discord. And yall joined. And we streamed and talked about books and games and movies and writing 🧐

[southlandvamp]

My sinners tattoo done by @/babezord on instagram!

This quote from Stack was what hit me the hardest when watching the movie. As a big sister, I felt this line in my SOUL. There truly is no me without my sibling.

[inertiabug]

the shudder when he puts it in.... okay.

[just-jack-oconnell]

Remmick is always putting on a front, so for me Jack's normal face is the mask and the makeup, the prosthetics, it's not adding something to his face, it's taking away. So it was all about peeling back the layers of what Remmick is. - Mike Fontaine

[knights-of-the-glittery-table]

Jack O'Connell as Lion Kaminski

Jungleland (2019)

[leftoversl1ce]

I'm not even sorry at this point. Here's Jack O'Connell as Lion Kaminski in Jungleland (2019)