ev3rmichelle🦋🍂 (@ev3rmichelle) · DIRTY

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂

@ev3rmichelle

She/her 🔞🥄 Filthy multishipper. made jen speechless that one time. freak match freak. Abolish ICE

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ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· 1d

Ew.

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 18

Came home and a biker gang has the place surrounded

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 18

I'm being so brave with scaling up this recipe

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 14

For #reylosss today: a snippet from chapter 2 of Three's Company, my Rey/Rose/Ben fic. 🌹☀️🌲

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 13

Week: long Work: terrible Mental health: iffy Martini: dry Wine: red

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 12

the walk the view the music

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 4

My pride-ish knit for 2026

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 3

It's like a reward

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Jun 1

Sound on 💕

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 31

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 27

The plot of Logan Lucky:

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 26

NEW #reylofic for @dhampirse.bsky.social Three's Company (a sequel of sorts to Touching You, Touching Me) e, chapter 1/2 “Oh baby, who are you thinking about fucking now?” ~and~ "Think you’re up to the challenge?"

black and white portraits of two women and a man sit in the foreground. Behind the portraits is a color images of nude bodies and entwined hands. The text reads "Three's Company" with a little heart

screenshot of an ao3 tagset for the fic Three's Company by ev3rmichelle

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 26

The man, the myth, the legend

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 20

Knitting, but make it tangentially reylo related

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 15

When one gets off work at 2pm, sometimes one accidentally makes a dirty martini at 3:45 because one thinks it's almost dinnertime

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· May 15

this is why the girlies should be in charge of the star war

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 28

Leveled up my hot girl walk with a weighted vest today so apparently I'm fully embracing my perimenopausal final form

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 23

My name is so long 😭

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 22

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 21

Tonight's walking buddy

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 20

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 15

A #reylo Omegaverse take on pirates, in which Alpha Rey takes a prisoner. post 3/3

“Trim the sails, quick as you like. Tie the wheel eastward and we’ll pick back up after dawn,” Rey orders, glancing up at the sky and calculating the time she’s got left before her crew will need her to be at her best. It’s barely midday—she should have eighteen hours, give or take, before she’s expected to be herself again. She’s seen worse and lived to tell the tale.

The stomping of feet and scraping of rope is barely a concern to her as her crew files obediently below deck. Her hair whips past her face as enormous sails are brought down, fastened to the masts above and deftly tied down.

Then: they’re alone, and Rey deftly unties the gag behind Kylo Ren’s head, and her fingers find purchase in hair that’s as black as tar and just as oily. She takes a fistful of it, pulling his head backward until it connects with the mast with a crack, and only then does she dare to lean in close enough to share a breath.

“You will obey. Or you will go overboard.”

His voice is rich, consonants flat and accented as he replies with a sultry flutter of his eyelashes:

“All you had to do was ask nicely. Alpha.”

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 15

A #reylo Omegaverse take on pirates, in which Alpha Rey takes a prisoner. post 2/3

“What hell have you brought down on my crew?” Rey demands, once she’s within spitting distance of the rabid man struggling in his bonds. She had been so blind, so focused only on the promised reward and the notoriety returning a prince to his homeland would earn her that she completely missed the signs in the heat of battle:

Kylo Ren is an Omega.

Worse, Kylo Ren is an Omega in heat on a Beta-crewed ship captained by an unsuppressed, Alphic female.

Kylo Ren’s nostrils flare and his lips tip upward around the dirty gag. Spittle has soaked the fabric, turning his chest wet as drool drips down his chin, and Rey fights the urge to lick her lips.

“You fool,” Rey spits. “You complete and utter fool. A battle? In this state? Do you have a death wish or are you the epitome of imbecilic Omega, unaware of your nature until you’re naked and fucking yourself on anything or anyone who could give you relief?”

His eyes lower, either in recognition or admission, and he traces her body with a heavy, heated stare. Rey fights to keep from squirming even as it feels like his gaze is burning the clothes off of her body. He stills long enough for Rey to take a half-step forward, but as the tips of her boots kick against his, Kylo Ren restarts his frantic thrashing. Blood pools where metal and rope cut into his skin, and the sour tang of copper is layered between sweet liquor and spice.

Rey shouldn’t like it, but damn her to this hell of her own making, she does.

“He’ll tear the mast down!” Someone behind her shouts, and sure enough, over the wind and waves, Rey can hear an unfamiliar splitting of wood that hadn’t been there before.

“Settle. You will not wreck my ship.” Rey hisses, and the man before her stills immediately as she realizes with a swoop of her stomach that she’s just Commanded him. It shouldn’t be possible. Not unless—

“Clear the deck!” She calls behind her, never taking her eyes from the needy Omega before her.

“Captain?” Her first mate questions her with a single word, but Rey jerks her head towards the ship’s wheel.

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 15

A #reylo Omegaverse take on pirates, in which Alpha Rey takes a prisoner. post 1/3

The sky is black with billowing smoke, and the stench of sulfur and gunpowder hangs in the air, eclipsing the sea-salt scent that’s lived in Rey’s nostrils for months. The battle is over, and already her deckboy sweeps debris into the sea. Her crew is giddy, delirious from their exertion and boisterous in their victory, but all Rey can focus on is the man she had chained to the mast: the captain of the Grimtaash, the so-called Kylo Ren.

Or, as his mother and father know him: Ben Solo, prince of Chandrilla, lost son of the houses of Alderaan and Naboo. Currently the man looks nothing like the spoiled princeling that Rey had expected: his eyes are wild, sunken and so dark they’re almost black in his rage. He strains against his ropes, drool weeping down his chin as he bites at the strip of cloth forced between sharp teeth. He is tall and broad, more a pirate than his birthright suggests, clad in a black trousers and a matching shirt that is open at the chest. Despite his swarthy looks—or perhaps, because of it—his screaming and snarling has begun to scare her crew, and Rey can’t risk them being anything but at their best.

“Check below decks for cinders!” Rey calls, wrinkling her nose as she catches the sudden smell of woodsmoke. They’ve come too far to lose a ship to fire, and land is too far away to reach if they need rescue, despite the same wind carrying the faint whiff of exotic spices and rum.

Someone must have gotten into the double rum rations early, and spilled their tankard in their eagerness to toast to the battles’ success, Rey thinks. She’ll allow her crew this afternoon without reprimand—they’re good men, all of them, obeying her without question despite her weaker sex. She rarely has to rely on her Alphic nature, and has earned their respect and trust over years of sea-faring and successful raids.

Nodding at her shipmates, Rey strides down the quarterdeck, intent on reaching the mainmast and the man she’s tempted to smash in the head with the hilt of her sword if only to get him to shut up. White sails snap in the wind above her as her first mate deftly steers her flagship through the choppy waves, but she doesn’t falter as the galleon rocks unsteadily. Her hair has escaped both her braids and her wide-brimmed hat, and as the breeze catches the strands and sends them into her eyes, Rey halts in her tracks.

That woodsy-spice smell that she was certain came on the breeze from one of the islands—perhaps Dominica or the trading port of Kingstown—wasn’t emanating from beyond the ship. No, it was coming directly from Kylo Ren. Rey stumbles, catching her balance on a barrel as her head swivels to catch more of the scent that’s drawn a fog over her senses.

She’s meters away from the man, and despite the roughspun rope cutting into his thick neck, she can see his raised gland at the base of his throat, red and swollen and just as angry as he is, as he thrashes and howls through his gag to be let free.

Stomach churning, Rey yanks a filthy handkerchief from her pocket and jams it under her nose, gulping in air through the woven fabric and gagging at the sweat-filth odor that blooms on her tongue.

Still, on refrain in her mind: Woodsmoke and rich spices, rum and sun-warmed sand—

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 13

I fear my calling is "alpaca rancher"

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 12

Thanks, commenter, for my snort-laugh first thing this morning. 🤣🤣🤣 I did it for the rats lmao

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 8

Never gonna get tired of how fucking gorgeous this place is

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Apr 2

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Mar 28

A sundae! It was delicious

ev3rmichelle🦋🍂@ev3rmichelle· Mar 28

This counts as interview prep, right?