⋆｡𓆝 𓆟 𓆞·｡ Disclaimers : I only use my handphone when making this skin and not an expert so i apologize if there's some places that look odd and some texts are hard to read. Images and pngs are from Tumblr and Pinterest, i tried to pick carefully so there's no AI used. I used this, this and followed very little bits of this CSS codes. I take no request. Dividers by @huraxy-dividers @pixopix
𖦹˚𓇼˚‧ Orca and Whale–especially Humpback Whale–are known to have deep hatred towards one another. Ironically i love them both, and i want to make a skin in reverence for those beautiful creatures where they seem to coexist with each other. Blue is my favorite color and i have been in love with ocean so i'm a little bewildered how i didn't make blue/sea theme skin until now lol! Easily this is my personal favorite skin out of all the others that i made.
light mode version🦪🪸
my ao3 skins masterlist
Tutorial how to activate the skin + the code :
Copy the code i provided in this GitHub, there is a copy button at the top right(•••) of the code box. And here if you prefer Google doc(recommend).
Sign to your AO3 account, after that go to "Dashboard".
On your "Dashboard", tap on a section called "Skins".
On the "Skins" page, tap on the button labelled "Create Site Skin".
Give your site skin a unique title, i usually use 2-4 word for the skins that i saved. IF YOUR SKIN NAME IS NOT UNIQUE, YOU CAN'T SAVE THE SKIN.
Paste the codes you copied from my GitHub into the "CSS" box.
When you're done, scroll to the bottom of the page and click a button labelled "Submit". This will save your site skin and take you to a new page where you can see the title of your skin as well as all of the code.
Click "My Site Skin" and you can see the skin are added, press "Use" to activate it.
If the Whale and Orca background image in the right border makes the texts unreadable to you when reading a fic, you can make it smaller by simply find this code ↓
Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them…
Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.
. . .
After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.
You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part.
So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least.
But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.
Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown.
It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.
And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.
“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more.
“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.
“Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire.
“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.
“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him.
“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.
MASTERLIST
. . .
I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—
Warnings: this fic contains stalking and violence. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
18+ only, explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
You voted, I wrote it. This is the next June fic! (It’s late. Sorry)
Syverson + “I gave you a chance to play nice.”
I welcome and appreciate all feedback. This means replies, reblogs, and asks. I do prefer if you can reblog and share my work along with your thoughts. <3
“Please. I have a video. Several.” You beg the officer as his interest clings to his phone. “I kept a notebook. Tracked everything. Just like you said.”
“I said?” Officer Garret frowns as his phone makes chinging noises as he makes a combo move in whatever mobile game he’s addicted to.
“Well… the last officer. That what he said to do. Make notes, take pictures. I did it all. The marks on my door, the letters left at my door, the gifts–”
“So you’re reporting a secret admirer?” He scoffs.
“I’m reporting… I’m terrified. This man won’t leave me alone. I have video of him looking in my window! He climbed the fire escape and–” You sigh and throw up your hands, clapping them back down on the notebook full of time-stamped notes. “I just want to be left alone. He’s been calling me, texting me. All these weird things. Pictures of me on the bus and at work.”
“Right.” He puts his phone down and crosses his arms, “how would I prove these are aggravated? That this isn’t some friend pulling a smart one trying to scare you?”
“It’s been over a year, please. I’ve filed six reports. You told me– They told me this was the right way.” You beg. “You have to help me.”
He stares at you. He takes a deep breath and rolls his chair closer to his desk. He sits up and sniffs.
“Sure, a seventh report.” He clicks his mouse with a roll of his eyes. “The eight will be obstruction charges.”
You blink, stunned. All you’ve done is what you’re told. Don’t wear ear buds, stay aware, lock your doors, don’t take the same route every day, keep a record…
“Forget it.” You hiss and stand up, gathering your notebook and purse.
You turn and stomp out at the officer chuckles. You hurry out, face on fire, chest fuming, hands shaking. As you come outside, you rub your temples and sigh. Your heart races as helplessness tingles through your body.
What do you do? What can you do? You tried and done everything! You just want whoever it is to leave you alone.
It’s not like you have friends. That you draw attention. You do everything not to. You’ve never been a fan of it. You go to work, clock in, hide in your cubicle, and mind your business. Then you go home, making yourself as small as you can on your commute, and lock yourself in your tiny apartment. You pay everything on time and rarely venture out of your space. Especially since this all began.
You look around warily. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. People pass you by without notice. Whoever is watching you, is subtle. Clever.
You turn down the road and head to a different bus route than the one you took there. That’s one of your tricks, not that any of them work. You wait a couple minutes before the bus comes and step on.
As everyone else buries their noses in books or screens, you’re alert. You sit in one of the side seats so your back is to the windows. There’s no one that stands out to you. You listen to the sniffles, the coughs, and the conversations. You get off two stops early and walk the rest of the way.
You approach your building with key in hand. You can feel the vibration of your phone in your purse. They’ve grown more steady the closer you get to home. You grip your key, ready to jab at anyone who might sneak up.
You check over your shoulders as you unlock the door. You go inside and close it until you hear the latch slide back into place. You take the stairs. You check behind you over and over and over. Until you’re dizzy.
You reach your apartment door and unlock the three locks on it. Your landlord won’t be impressed at the additional hardware. You lock each from the inside and double check the handle. You walk through the apartment, turning on every light; not that there’s more than the walk-through kitchen, the living room, bedroom, and bathroom. You even check the singular closet.
Alone, not safe. You put down your notebook and pull your bag into your lap as you sit on the sagging couch. You open your phone. There’s messages from six different numbers, on Instagram, through email. You can’t do it anymore. You can’t.
You put the phone down and push your bag off your lap. You stand and grip your head. You pace until you can catch your breath.
You go into the kitchen. You need water. You reach for the cupboard and stop. What the hell?
The knob is reattached. You’ve been struggling for weeks with the thing. Your landlord has ignored all your maintenance requests. So you leave it open or claw at the edge until it pops open. But now, the knob is back in place. Somehow.
You grab it and try to wiggle it. It’s screwed in tight. You open the cupboard. You can see the screw is new and the way they were able to fill in the wood to hold it. Maybe your landlord did it but you never received notice…
No. You really don’t think it was your no-good overlord.
You cover your face in exasperation. What can you do? You’re out of options. The police don’t help. You don’t have friends. Your family is only that by technicality.
You drop your arms and scurry around the wall to the front room. You grab your phone; block number, block, block, block. You tap app icons and go through the tedious steps; Account Settings; Delete Account; Are you sure? This is an irreversible action. Yes, yes, yes.
You don’t exist anymore. You’re nothing. You’re no one! Leave me alone!
You slam your phone down and huff. You just want it to stop. You need it to stop. Whoever it is just needs to go away. Why won’t they just get the message? You don’t want them.
💜
You haven’t slept in your bed in months. You’re never tired enough, calm enough to settle down. You stay on the couch and watch TV in a daze. To the detriment of your back as you feel the metal frame of the couch through the worn down cushions
Your head pounds and you close your eyes. You lean back and let your body slacken. The tension never truly goes. You listen to the conversation of fictional characters with more interesting lives than yours. Safer too.
Your mind swims as the room turns to static around you. Your skin prickles and your ears ring lowly as fatigue washes over you. You need to move. You need to get away from this place. From them.
Your eyes snap open as you sense a shift. The TV’s still on but the lights aren’t. You don’t turn them off when you’re home. Never.
The metal frame of the couch creaks. Your mouth opens, ready to scream, as a hand strokes your arm. Before your horror can erupt, a finger presses to your lips.
The figure hushes you. “It’s okay. It’s just me, honey.”
Your heart lurches and your stomach knots. You’re nauseous as the deep voice infests your ears. You shake as this thick finger traces your lips. The man hums.
“I was scared. You disappeared.” He drawls as he continues to pet your arm. “Right after you were with them police… I thought… something happened.”
You shudder and heave in a shaky breath. You turn to look at the shadow turned real. The man is big. Much bigger than you. Burly. HIs blue eyes twinkle softly in an otherwise coarse face. His head is shaved, brows and beard thick, nose as rugged as his square jaw. You quiver.
“Who… who are you?”
He smiles and cradles your chin. “What? You know me. Honey, I know you get my letters. My messages. My calls.”
Your eyes sting with fear as you lean away from him. He catches you around the throat and tuts.
“You’re not running away from me, are you? That’s not why you were talking to Officer Garret.” He growls.
You blink. “How–”
“How can I keep you safe if you hide?” He snips over you.
Your lashes flutter and you grab his wrist. With both hands as you realise how thick it is. You try to push him off. “Let me go.”
“Honey, calm down. I’m just checking on you. Making sure you’re okay. You scared me.”
You stare at this stranger, this spectre who’s haunted you for so long. You shake your head.
“You. Scare. Me.” You whisper.
He frowns and his hand shakes. Then he lets you go and rubs his palms together. He slumps but it does little to lessen his size.
“No, I don’t want that. I just want…” He looks at you again and reaches for you. “I just want to take care of you.”
He touches your cheek again. He turns his hand and brushes his knuckles along your skin. A surge of frustration and fear swells in your veins. You turn your head and sink your teeth into his thumb.
He grunts and recoils. You let go as his other arm swings out. He backhands you off the couch with a crack that has your ears humming. You land on the hardwood with an oomph. You roll over and crawl away from him.
“Stop! Please! Leave me alone!” You cry out. You suck in air as you push yourself higher on your hands and knees. “Someone! Anyone! Help–”
He steps over you and smothers your shouts with his large hand. He hooks his other arm around you and scoops you off the floor easily. You thrash and claw at him as your voice evaporates behind his roughened palm.
You bow your head forward and throw it back. You feel and hear the impact. He snarls and shakes you, barreling ahead to crush you against the wall. He knocks the breath from you. He pulls his arm from around your middle and grips the back of your skull. He pins you to the wall by your head. He sniffs wetly and snorts.
“I gave you a chance to play nice.” He growls. “I didn’t want it to be this way.”
