#and i can't find a way to do it from the settings or anything???
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Good Luck, Babe!
Cw: Angst without comfort, motions of internalized homophobia/homophobia in general, Don't read if your very religious!!
Ellie was slouched on the edge of her bed, her eyes half-closed and her guitar resting precariously on her lap. The dim light of the room cast long shadows, lighting the weariness etched on her face. She strummed a few chords absentmindedly, the sound echoing through the apartment like a melancholic melody. You sat beside her, your hand gently rubbing the small of her back, a soft smile on your face as you watched her play. The room was silent except for the gentle sound of her guitar, and the subtle sound of your breathing.
In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you found a profound sense of peace, the kind that only came from being with someone who truly understood you. Her music, while somber, was a testament to the depth of her spirit, and you found yourself drawn to it, much like you were drawn to her.
Ellie comes to a halt, her fingers slowly releasing the strings of her guitar as she sets it down carefully beside her. With a turn, she directs her attention towards you, her eyes meeting yours with a small smile on her lips.
"I just had a thought," she says, gazing down at your bare thigh, waiting for you to ask what it was.
"What is it?"
Ellie seemed hesitant as she avoided making eye contact. After struggling to find the right words, she finally spoke hesitantly. "Um, I don't know if you've heard, but Dina is throwing a Valentine's Day get-together," she met your eyes. "I was thinking maybe we could go together, as a couple." Ellie paused before finishing her sentence.
You took a deep breath, the air feeling thick in your lungs, and let out a nervous laugh that was barely audible. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty as you thought about the secret you had been keeping from your family.
Unlike Ellie, who was openly gay and accepted by the people around her, you couldn't be open about your sexuality, due to your family's strict religious beliefs and narrow-minded views as well as some of the people in your town. You were your parent's golden child, being perfect, and never getting into trouble. You knew you had to choose between your family, morals, and reputation or your happiness.
"Ellie," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to. I do. But I'm just... I'm not ready yet." You could see the disappointment in her eyes.
"You said the same thing 7 months ago," Ellie lets out, her eyes widening at her own words.
As soon as you hear her words, your heart begins to pound relentlessly against your ribcage, a sensation so intense that you feel like it could burst out of your chest any second, you can't help but hang on to every word she says.
"I know...and I'm sorry" You take a deep breath in between speaking, you would have said more if you could, but you didn't know what to say.
"When will you be ready?" Ellie's voice is laced with frustration, you couldn't blame her, you had been telling her the same excuse for almost 2 years. When are you going to be ready? Ellie imagined a future with you, getting married, buying a home, and starting a family. How would that happen if you kept her a secret? A lot of times Ellie couldn't help but think you would be happier with a man, you wouldn't have to keep him a secret.
From the moment you met Ellie you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her, the same night you went home, you cried and prayed to god for forgiveness for thinking about another girl that way.
Ellie understood you in a way no one else did, she didn't judge you for being yourself, she listened to whatever you had to say and you did the same for her. You loved her more than anything on earth, you never wanted to be apart from her, so the ultimate you were left with now killed you. Ellie and happiness, or the only life you knew.
Her question left you frozen, 'when will you be ready' The question swam around in your mind, you knew there wasn't a concrete answer to that, it was a question you've asked yourself countless times. "I don't know, Ellie, I wish I did." The honesty in your voice echoed the helplessness you felt inside.
You knew Ellie wouldn't wait for you forever, it wasn't fair to her. You were surprised Ellie didn't hate you or hadn't left you yet, she had every right to. Ellie feels a bitter taste on her tongue at your words, she nods her head slowly. You couldn't keep putting her through this, hurting her, she didn't deserve it. The only way you could fix it is by ending it.
"Ellie," you choke out, your voice breaking, "I think... I think we should break up." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and painful, sounding so final and irrevocable.
Ellie's eyes widen, the breath knocked out of her as if you'd physically struck her. For a moment, she just stares at you, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to form words. The silence that follows is deafening.
"What?" Ellie finally manages to whisper, her voice barely audible. Her hands tremble, and she clutches them together tightly as if to keep herself from falling apart.
You let out a shaky breath, your heart aching at the look of utter disbelief on her face. "I... I can't keep doing this to you, Ellie. It's not fair," you murmur, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "You deserve someone who can love you openly, not... not someone too scared to be true to themselves."
She looks at you, her eyes welling up with tears, but she blinks them back, refusing to let them fall. "I want you," she says, her voice stronger now. "I don't care about what other people think. I don't care about the rest of the world. I care about you."
But you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks now. "I care, Ellie. I can't live like this. I can't keep hiding, and I can't keep hurting you."
It's a long, painful silence before she finally nods, her shoulders slumping as she accepts your words. She doesn't argue, doesn't fight, just accepts. And that somehow hurts more than anything else.
You stand up from the bed, avoiding Ellie's eyes, grabbing your bag, and heading for the door.
"I love you. I hope one day, you'll love yourself too. Good luck, babe."
Your heart feels a thousand pounds heavier hearing her words, a part of you wants to turn around and take it all back, beg for her to take you back. But you can't, you won't. Tears fall down your eyes as you walk out of her apartment and to your car. Your heart knows you just made the biggest mistake of your life, as you get in your car, and make your way home.
Maybe god could still forgive you.
An: Sorry for this, i just love being in pain >w< GO LISTEN TO CHAPPELL ROAN NOW!!!!!
#ellie x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#the last of us part 2#tlou2#the last of us#angst#wlw#wlw post
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Hi! I love your android!ghost au! I was rereading it and I got the idea of ghost desperately wanting to eat the reader out but androids can’t eat…
Oh my love don't let that stop you from riding his face...
I see Android Ghost's head as either being 1 of 2 things,
This Mask from Machine56 or my personal preference/ favorite, something like this:
that he displays his skull mask on, plus messages if needed(also if anyone knows the artist for that picture please let me know I'm having a hell of a time finding them to credit)
Anyway, you can always ride his face plate, there's not much friction but it's better than nothing. It's a good show for him too. Laying back and having you tentatively settle on the smooth screen of his face, the little skull decal and glowing eyes staring up at you. You don't want to break anything, it's not like his head is made for this, but Ghost grabs your hips and forces you to set your weight on him. He rubs your pussy back and forth over the screen, murmurs that the glass is bulletproof which means it's definitely pussy-proof, and he won't hear a word of complaint.
It's perfect for him. He gets a front row view of your pussy as it slides over his faceplate, the slick smearing over the plasti-glass, the drag of your folds, your clit, fuck look at you. His mouth waters. There's not an inch of you that doesn't deserve his attention, his affection. He moves your hips back and forth, watches your face pinch in pleasure, your lips shut tight to keep from making a peep. God is there any prettier sight?
You're dirtying his screen. It's such a strange feeling, just that little bit of friction that drives you mad as your cunt slides against his face. Your clit bumps against the slightly raised edge of the decal and it's such a change that your hips jerk. That seems to be encouragement enough to have him shifting you up, your pussy directly over his cameras as you rub yourself against the bump of vinyl. You can ignore the soft click of his cameras saving the image to memory, but you can't ignore the way he talks to you. The low wrecked tone that vibrates through his synthetic cords.
"Look'it you," He rumbles, "could drown with how wet you are, pretty pussy giving my screen a shine. Knew you liked bots, but never thought you'd go this far. What's the captain gonna think of you damaging military property like this?"
"Can clean it," You mumble. His fingers tighten on your hips and he tells you desperately:
"Don't."
The idea that he might walk around all day with your slick staining his face makes you warmer than it ought to. Makes you press your hands to the floor above his head and roll your hips more purposefully. Damaging military property... If you're the one doing all his repairs you don't think that charge will stick.
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#mw2 ghost#ghost cod#android!ghost#cyberpunk au
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Wine night YES!!!! Ohhh hohohohohooo do I have a nice one!!! Academic rivals that are working on the same lecture, they can't stand one another despite admitting that MAYBE they're not AS BAD as they think they are. At the library they both find themselves reaching for the same book. Banter wars! Sass!! And.....pent up stress that leads to...oh!!! Thank goodness NO ONE comes back here Q.Q
Oooooo!!!!!! Oh man the set up for this is so so so real!! I hope you’re okay with genshin impact!!
You rub at your elbow when the book you were reaching for falls to the ground. You go to pick it up, ignoring the hat clad scholar scoffing at you. Of all the people to run into at this time of night in the house of daena…
“Tch, don’t tell me you’re actually gonna read this? Looks like someone is finally using their brain here.” Of course, it had to be him. The newest Vahumana scholar and representative from the InterDarshan Competition who just so happens to be the Lesser Lord’s ward. Ever since he joined, he’s given you unnecessary academic competition and it’s been driving you insane. Every time you’ve written a research article, he’s always the first to pick it apart.
You snatch the book off the ground before he has a chance to reach it. “Are you done? Is this what you have to do to make up for your lack of height? Be an absolute dick? Your little mommy can’t swoop in all the time and bail you out.” You cross your arms indignantly and smirk at him in front of the bookcase. Wanderer, or Hat Guy as you’ve called him, clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. He tries to get past you to look for another collection of records nearby. Finally having enough of his shit, you stop him and get in his way. A deep sigh escapes his lips and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Get the fuck out of my way.”
“No.”
“Do you plan on obstructing my research more by being a nuisance?”
“Hmm,” you hum, “you know all about that don’t you? Always having something snarky to say to everything I publish!”
He crosses his arm and flicks his hat. “I wouldn’t do that if you knew what the hell you were talking about. If you did better research, I wouldn’t have to correct you.”
That strikes a nerve.
He tries to push pass you but you hold firm. Getting more irritated by the second, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the bookshelf. His nose brushes against yours as he breathes angrily above you. “You,” he seethes out, “are getting in my way and on my last nerve. Now for the last fucking time, move.”
For some reason, your heart is beating out of your chest with how close he is. You dart your eyes away from his intense stare briefly. “No.”
“Fuckin…”
He leans in to kiss you, pressing his body close to yours as the kiss deepens. You tilt your head to the side as all of your unsaid emotions are coming front and center. One hand is firmly on your hip while his other is above you, you think, holding onto the bookshelf. He bites at your lip possessively and hums into your mouth. The kiss ends suddenly and you flutter your eyes open. Just what the hell was that? You’re not sure but maybe-
“Got my book.”
You blink dumbfoundedly as he has the book he needs in one hand, smirking at your expression as he drags his thumb over his lip.
“Thanks for getting in my way,” he rumbles out, “you should do it more often.”
Elle’s Wine Night anything goes!!
#elle’s wine night#elle’s anons#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche x you#wanderer x reader#wanderer x you#genshin wanderer#genshin impact x reader#wanderer x y/n
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melodies | 1.1
summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that.
wc: 4.5k
warnings: fluff, suggestive?, cursing I think
a/n: hi babies! thank you all so much for the love on part one! I'm thrilled you're all enjoying melodies! I can't wait to bring you some more! i'm always working on this story so updates will come as they're completed! <3
Ellie offered to close for you so you could go home earlier and take your time getting ready. The only thing Harry told you was to dress comfortably. He said he wants to show off his cooking skills instead of someone elses, and this way he can make sure nobody is around that shouldnt be around.
Lately Harry had been dealing with a problem, but he wasn’t about to be telling you that. He already knew your apprehension towards dating him because of his status, he didn’t want to chance scaring you off before he had a proper chance of making you happy.
Someone had been trying to get close to Harry, trying to learn information and sell it to his number one enemy, Scott Jones; another prominent mafia boss in the area. He wanted Harry’s contacts, warehouses and secrets. Everyone wanted Harry’s contacts. Everyone wanted his status. They wanted the power. Harry had it all. The money, the loyal men, the status, the everything. The only thing he didn’t have, was the girl. But oh did he find one, and oh was he obsessed with her. But she wanted very little to do with him.
Until now.
He picked you up at six on the dot, nevermind how he got your address. You’ll just have to thank Ellie later. She’s also the one who slipped him your phone number, but she refuses to admit it.
“You look lovely. I love the matching sweatpants.” Harry grins down at you, taking your hand in his and offering a kiss to your knuckles, just as he did yesterday.
“You told me to wear something comfortable, and it doesn't get much more comfortable than sweatpants and a hoodie.”
“No, no. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out. “I said comfortable, and you–.”
“Calm down, Styles. You didn’t offend me,” you chuckle at his anxiousness. It’s a little surprising to you.
“Oh. I know,” he half laughs. “Are you ready?” you nod in response, and he opens the car door. You don’t miss the line of cars behind his as you get into the front seat.
The drive to Harry’s estate doesnt take super long. A couple of winding roads, a gate with guards, and a long driveway later and you're there.
His kitchen is set up with the best of the best; every tool and gadget you could ever need. “I was thinking we could make something together. Ellie told me your favorite thing to make is pancakes, and those happen to be my specialty,” he says, guiding you into his home.
Tall black cabinets adorned with gold hardware and a black marble countertop. Everything is so sleek, and elegant and perfect you're almost afraid to exist in the space. But it’s so warm and cozy and inviting at the same time. He’s got candles burning on the counter top and on the coffee table in the living room; which also has black furniture and dark walls.
“Did she now? What else did she tell you?” you ask, leaning across the kitchen island looking up at him on the other side.
“I guess that will be revealed in due time, my love,” Harry smiles over at you. He pulls the ingredients from the cabinet, and the fridge. “She said to make sure strawberries were involved or to not even bother,” he chuckles softly, placing a carton of fresh berries on the counter.
“That’s a little dramatic, but strawberries are the best topping for pancakes,” you take the knife as he passes it to you, softly rolling your eyes at his “Careful, it’s sharp.” and you don't miss the way he clenches his jaw when you say “Ok, dad”, in response.
“So, what made you say yes to ‘Mr. Big Mafia man’ after all my months of pining for you?”
“First of all, you were mostly pining for my piano. Second of all, I got some advice telling me to live a little and here I am doing that,” you pop a strawberry into your mouth after cutting the top off. Harry opens his mouth leaning down next to you, silently asking for a berry. You slice the top off another one, raising it to his lips for him to take. He smiles as he chews it, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time; making your skin heat up in silent anticipation.
“Sweet,” he mumbles, licking his lips after he swallows, “Very.. sweet,” his eyes flicker down to your lips, but he snaps out of it at the sound of you clearing your throat. He clears his in response, “Right, I wanted the piano. But you were the real prize,” he says, trying to regain his composure.
“Just because you heard me sing?” you effortlessly cut the strawberries into slices, setting them to the side as you spoke with him. Harry was on your right, mixing the batter together, plus the dash of cinnamon you threw in–“That’s my secret,”--you blush over at him as he eyes you.
“Nah. I was interested in you before that. Your “playing hard to get” attitude feels like a challenge.” His words make you scoff. “The singing voice is just a plus.”
“I’m not playing hard to get. I am hard to get. And I think if anything, the last year is evidence of that.” you’re grinning to yourself as you continue your task.
“Sure is,” he mumbles to himself, but loud enough for you to hear, making you grin. “But that’s okay, I like a challenge.” He turns away from the counter, leaning to turn the stove on.
“You certainly are the most persistent person I've ever met.” leaves you in the form of a chuckle. You hate to admit how flattered he make you feel by being so adamant in trying to know you
“I don't know, you were pretty persistent on not letting me take you on a date. And about that piano of yours.” He starts dripping the mix onto the surface, creating perfect circles.
Of course.
Insert eye roll here.
“Hey, you agreed to not bring up my piano if i sang for you,” you watch him work effortlessly.
“I agreed to stop trying to buy it. I still intend to tease you about it. Although I would appreciate some help in finding a piano that’s as nice as that one.”
You’re startled by a voice that isn't Harry’s. “Sir, there’s been developments.” Harry’s demeanor changes in front of your eyes. His gaze finds the man near the entrance of the kitchen and immediately hardens.
“I said, no interruptions. Are you aware of what that means?” his tone makes your blood run cold. You’ve never seen him this way before. He’s always been goofy and kind to you, sure he demands his men’s respect and can get them to do whatever he wants with the snap of his fingers, but this is different,
“Y-yes, sir, but this is impo–”
“Enough, Liam. Take it to Niall and Mitch,” Harry demands. “I’ll decide what to do with you later. Now leave us.”
“Yes, Har–Sir. Yes, sir.” the man says, leaving in a rush.
“He’s new if you couldn't tell,” Harry jokes, demeanor switching back in an instant.
“You don’t have to talk to him like that, you know,” you toss a strawberry into your mouth.
“In my line of work, I do. But let's not focus on that, I know you don’t really care for that side of me and that’s okay.”
“Yes, please just keep me in the dark on all of that,” you chuckle, “I don’t need anything else on my conscience,” your words make him laugh. But you also notice the look of worry laced behind his eyes.
“So does that mean there will be a next time?”
“Mm, too early to tell Mr. Mafia man. But I am enjoying this so far.” you offer him a soft smile.
The two of you continue to move effortlessly throughout his space together, as if you were meant to be a part of it all along. He flashes you that award winning smile any chance he gets. After the pancakes are done and topped with the strawberries, he leads you to his patio where he has a large projector screen set up with a sea of blankets and pillows for you two to sit on.
“I hear you enjoy the Harry Potter movies, and I happen to be a fan as well. So i figured we could have a little marathon while we got to know each other,”
“Har–” you notice the way his eyes glimmer with a sliver of hope, but that was a mess up,--”Styles, that sounds perfect,” you whisper. His face slightly drops at your correction, but he’s deterred none. Shaking it off, he smiles over at you, helping you take a seat on the blanketed area.
“You strike me as a slytherin with that attitude of yours,” he jokes with you. “I’m a Gryffindor myself.”
“Mm, I would have thought you to be a Hufflepuff,”
“Those are fighting words,” he says as he leans over and grabs a pillow. Swiftly catching on, you immediately grab one as well and strike first; landing a blow to the side of his head. He chuckles, “You’re going to regret that, Birdie,” his threat makes you giggle.
You burst with laughter as he takes hold of one of your ankles, and pulls you towards him, making you tumble back from the sudden movement; the pillows breaking the short fall from your sitting position. His pillow begins making repeated contact with your upper body, your arms shoot up in an attempt to cover your head. His light blows of the pillow make both of your laughs fill the air.
“God, Styles at–whack–least pretend to–whack–-let me win,” you giggle out.
He pauses his movements for a split second, smiling at you from above deviously. He takes hold of both of your hands in one of his, slightly pulling you into a sitting position.
“No,” and he whacks you again lightly upside your head, sending you backwards into the pillows below again
“Rude,” you huff, making him laugh.
“Had enough?”
“Mhm,” you pout. Putting your hand out, you silently ask for help, but keep hold of your pillow with the other hand. He pulls you to sit, but is surprised to feel your pillow collide with the side of his face, sending him backwards this time. You take the opportunity to straddle his hips, and repeatedly whack him with the pillow. Lightly of course.”How do you like it? Hm?” you tease from above. Harry has that permanent grin all over his face. His hands find your hips, giving them a light squeeze before he switches your positions so he's hovering over you again. You go silent, but have a huge smile etched onto your lips.
“What’s wrong, Birdie?” he gloats, “Got no defense now?” Low laughs fall from his lips as he watches you swallow in anticipation, You look up to his lips, also forming a grin. “Whatcha lookin at? Hm?”
“Do you want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss you right now?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment you first told me ‘No’ when I asked to buy your piano, and then even more when you told me to get out of your store.”
“Why haven’t you then?” you ask breathlessly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I wanted you to be comfortable with the idea before I made my move,” he says, connecting your lips together for the first time.
You’ve never felt so comforted yet nervous by someone's touch before. He feels of danger and darkness, but comfort and safety at the same time. He could give you the best of both worlds, if you’d let him of course. Deepening the kiss he feels your hands snake under his shirt, learning the defined muscles across the area. Harry caresses the side of your face in his left hand, bracing himself near your head on the right.
He pulls away, looking at the blown look in your eyes and chuckles softly. “As much as I would love for this to continue, I want to do this right with you and make sure this is really what you want.”
Harry’s admission makes your hardened heart soften just a little bit. “Ever the gentleman, Styles.”
“Still just Styles after that?” he teases.
“The night is not over yet,” you sit up, shoving him backwards.
“Indeed it is not.”
“I can’t believe you’d be offended to be a hufflepuff. Don’t you know they say every Slytherin needs a Hufflepuff?”
Harry ponders for a moment, a look on his face that makes you think he’s actually mulling over a serious thought inside his big ass head. “If you’re guaranteed to be my Slytherin then I'd consider the change.”
“You’d change your Hogwarts house for me?” you look down to your hands sitting in your lap, a grin formed on your lips as you speak.
“I’d try to change the world for you,” Harry whispers. Your head snaps up, looking into his eyes.
“That.. has to be the cheesiest thing i've ever heard on a first date,” you chuckle, making him laugh with you.
“Please, you were eating that up Birdie.” he attempts to play it off.
“Would you really though?”
“Of course,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Any chance we’ll do this again? Or am I banned?” Harry asks, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Giggles leave your lips.
Leaning up, you give him a kiss. “What do you think, Styles?” you whisper. Harry’s skin heats up, his face turning a light tinge of pink
“How about this friday?”
“That’s literally tomorrow,” you chuckle.
“Okay?” he questions, unsure where your worry is coming from. He'll ease all of your worries if you’d let him. He’d give you everything if you’d let him.
So what? He thinks
You pretend to mull it over in your head for a moment, “Okay.” you finally agree.
“Okay?” He seems almost puzzled.
“Okay. But no labels. And nothing extravagant.”
“Okay,” he smiles at you, offering one more kiss and a “See you tomorrow, Birdie.” Harry leaves you standing in the doorway to your apartment, a light blush evident all over your cheeks.
Heading inside you immediately call Ellie to thank her for being so thorough in telling Harry everything about you. She was adamant she didn't know what you were talking about but said you’re welcome anyways. “Now, about Mitch” you start telling her the details about the double bunned man.
A slew of dates followed the first one. He was determined to change your mind about no labels… and about not wanting anything extravagant. Harry wanted to show you the world of opportunities he offered you by saying yes to being his. The second date he took you one was to the restaurant he owned at the marina. Some of the finest dining you’d ever seen. A complete turn around from the pancakes you’d had the night before. When you’d asked him what to wear this time, he’d told you not to worry, that something would show up for you soon. A sleek, black satin dress with a scoop neckline showed up at your store before your date, earning a genuine eye roll from you.
“I said nothing extravagant, Styles,” you scolded him as you stepped into the car.
“The smile you’re attempting to hide from me betrays your words, Birdie,” he gloats from his seat next to you. “You look wonderful.”
“Just because I like playing dress up does not mean I'm not mad at you.”
Harry grabs your hand, raising it to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back. The gesture never failing to make you blush. “Whatever you say, darling.”
“Sir, Scott Jones has just arrived at the restaurant. Should we change locations?” Suguru questions from the front seat.
“No, this is my turf…” he begins speaking, his grip on your hand almost feels tighter as the words leave him. “...I won’t be made a fool of in my own establishment.”
“Scott Jones?” you whisper to Harry who’s got a vice grip on his cellphone, typing angrily. Your hand comes to rest on his leg.
The stiffness in Harry’s stature eased at the sound of your voice and the feeling of your touch. He wonders just where you’ve been all of his life. Your ability to make the darkness not seem so dark inside his mind makes him feel like there might be a point to all of this.
“He’s just a contact. Nothing for you to worry about, Birdie,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
Harry loved taking photos. His camera roll was full of his favorite things to look at. Whether it was a nicely decorated room or a view he’d seen on a business trip. But now, his camera roll was full of one thing and one thing only; you. Photos of you from your first date, lying peacefully in the blanket fort with pillows surrounding your serene looking frame. He thought you looked beautiful when you were all dressed up, but he thought you looked your best when you were dressed down. Harry just loved having reminders of your pretty face.
He had other photos of you; sitting at your piano, or laying in his bed. Photos of you on every date he’d taken you on. So many videos of you singing along with the radio. Any song could come on when he was visiting you and you were able to match the tempo perfectly on the keys. Your voice always sounded sweet like honey in his ears. His favorite photo was the one you took with him, a selfie of you kissing his cheek. He felt like a teenage boy freaking out over his highschool crush when he spent almost an hour just grinning to himself while looking at the picture.
You were still hesitant to say you were fully in a relationship with him, even all these months later. He’d visit you every day in your store, telling you he’d be ready whenever you were. You were it for him, he was just waiting for you to be on the same page.
Harry smiled down at you laying on his chest. He’d rented a cabana at the beach and planned a day with you just to relax and be with each other. Talking of everything big and small. After you mentioned that you loved being around water, it seemed like every date had a water undertone to it. A dinner date at the marina. A trip to the aquarium. Day dates on his yacht, which often turned into sunset cruises. Multiple beach dates. This beach date started to remind you of Pretty Woman since Harry offered to read your book to you while you rested your eyes.
As he read the words off the page all you could think about was how hard you’d fallen for this man without even being aware of it. You can't even pinpoint when it happened. What you do know is that looking up at him in this moment as he reads your book back to you, you’re head over heels for him.
“This reminds me of Pretty Woman so much,” you chuckle, sitting up out of his hold.
“When he was reading to her under the tree?”
“You’ve seen it?” you look at him with shock in your eyes. You’d never have thought in a million years Mr. Mafia man would have seen such a chick flick.
“I hadn't before, but you’ve mentioned it so much I wanted to see what you were referring to,” Harry admitted, closing the book with a thud. He sits up next to you, and caresses the side of your face. Leaning into his touch, you smile softly at him.
“You’re really determined, you know that?” you whisper.
Harry rubs his thumb over the apple of your cheek, eyeing your mouth as he speaks. “Took you long enough to notice,” he places a soft kiss to your lips and feels you smile against his mouth.
“Who knew the big mafia boss had a soft side.” you chuckle, kissing him back.
“Only for you, darling. When are you gonna let me make it official and call you mine?” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.
“I--" you start to think of what to say. You want to try this with him. He’s more than proved himself, but you still have reservations. Mostly because of who, or what he is. His life eats, sleeps and breathes danger. You just want to run your little music store in the middle of downtown. He’s making it easy to forget that life you had planned for yourself.” –I don't know. I’m scared.”
“I know you are, but I'm here when you’re ready.” His fingers thread their way into your hair as he lulls your head to the side and pressing his lips to your neck. “I have a question for you though,” he whispers against the surface. Harry pulls back to gauge your reaction
Your eyes look glazed over and blown out, so he continues. Your hands find his shoulders in an attempt to hold yourself upright on the cabana bed.
“Well, more of a request,” he hums. “I have an event tomorrow evening I need a date for. Would you be interested in accompanying me?
“Is it something fun?” you pull his head to be level with yours, looking directly at his lips with lust behind your gaze.
“Have I asked you to do anything so far that hasn't been fun?”
“No,” you shake your head at him and kiss him. Pushing him to lay back, your leg hikes up around his hip. “I would love to accompany you to your event tomorrow, Styles.”
“Still just Styles, huh? Even when you’re trying to get into my trunks?” His teasing words make you retract your touch from his body, fully sitting up again. “Nuh uh, you get back here,” he laughs, pulling you back down with him making you giggle. Harry gives you an onslaught of kisses all over your face, pulling more and more laughs from you; his second favorite thing to hear. He knows all of his favorite sounds will get outranked one day… he just has to wait for that day to come. Harry slides his hands down your sides and digs his fingertips into your sides, making you squeal.
“S-stop! I’m ticklish!” you whine.
“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me want to stop?” He continues his playful assault, laughing along with you. You manage to get one up on him, swinging your leg over his hips so you’re straddling him. Taking hold of his wrists in your hands, you pin them on either side of his head, smirking down at him. “Mm, what’s your plan now, Birdie?” he shows off that million dollar smile. You cover his lips with yours, tasting the salt from the ocean on his skin. Harry offers you a hum of approval at the feeling of your mouth on his, making you smile. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, making you gasp. Letting go of the grip on his wrists, your hands tangle into the chestnut tufts of his hair. Harry cups your jaw with both hands as he pulls you off of him. “We can't,” he whispers against your lips before you’re attaching your lips again. “Birdie,” he says, pulling you off again.
“What?” you ask, a grin plastered on your face. “Why can't we?”
“Well, number one we’re in public,” he motions to all the other couples scattered around the various surrounding cabanas. “And two, Mitch and Niall are not going to be getting an eyeful of what's mine,” he growls, taking your lips with his once more. You groan once he pulls away.
“I never said I was yours,” you tease, letting him sit up with you.
“You’ve always been mine…” he says, caressing the side of your face in one hand, “...ever since I stepped into your store for the first time.”
You clear your throat, “Right, about tomorrow though?”
Ellie won't let you see the dress you’re wearing; the only thing she’ll tell you is that it's red and beautiful. You decided to close up early since she’d offered to help you get ready. Harry said he was going to take care of everything, but you at least asked if you could get ready yourself. Having strangers mess with your appearance wasn’t at the top of your ideal things to do today list.
Harry told you to be ready by seven, he’d pick you up on the dot. You were sitting in the sink of your bathroom as you put your makeup on, paying extra close attention to the details today. Ellie stands behind you with the curling iron as you two argue over Harry. You’re still adamant on not being ready, but Ellie keeps calling your bluff.
“Why wont you just let yourself be happy?” Ellie asks as she helps you curl your hair.
“You date a Mafia boss and tell me you're not terrified at the end of the day,” you chuckle, sweeping your blush brush across your cheeks.
“So you’re telling me you dont like him?”
“That’s not what I said, I said I was scared.”
“So you do like him?” she asks excitedly.
You do, and that’s what scares you. This was supposed to be just something fun for you. You never envisioned feeling this way.
You nod slowly, “Probably too much,” the admission feeling like a weight off of your shoulders. “Think I’ll tell him tonight, if it goes as well as I'm hoping it does.” Ellie is bubbling with excitement at your words. She’s probably already planning your wedding.
“You’ve been leading him on for months now, just give in and see where it takes you!”
Ellie was kinda right. But in reality, you don’t owe him anything and you know that. But you do really want to see where this could possibly take you. You already feel so much for this man, but who knows what else could happen.
Harry picked you up exactly when he said he would, knocking on your door at seven sharp. You open the door, and you’re met with your handsome date for the evening in a black on black suit with a red boutonniere on the left hand side that matches your dress impeccably well.
“You look… wow.”
A light blush forms on your cheeks at his words. “You look pretty wow yourself, Harry.”
He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the silky material of the gloves that stop just below your elbow. “You look fantastic, not just wow.” he smiles at you, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I have one more surprise,” he pulls a box from his jacket pocket.
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
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#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry edward styles#harry edward style#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader
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My Experiment - Cooper Howard/The ghoul x OC
Plot: Cooper finds his way to a little shop on the outskirts of an extremely rough town. When he meets the owner, he's shocked how such a sweet face could survive in such a miserable place. Only he's about to find out exactly what made you the way you are.
Warnings: Er...violence, mentions of sexual assault and I think that is it.
The day Cooper Howard first met Addy, he was in a very bad mood indeed.
Cooper Howard was feared by many people, even those he had never met before. He found himself staring at newcomers with their wide eyed fear in contempt. He didn't want to be feared, not at first, but it did come in handy when he wanted something.
The best way to survive in the wasteland was to make sure you didn't need anything from anybody else. That way you could just live in solitude.
Unfortunately for Cooper, Radway was something he needed, and didn't know how to make.
So there he stood, in a small town shop with a handful of a caps and a devilish grin.
"You know what I'm here for," he said gruffly, and the shopkeeper squeaked in fear.
"Listen, I'm sorry but we are all out," the man seemed to tremble under the gaze of the ghoul. "You'll have to go elsewhere,"
Cooper frowned "Elsewhere?" he asked snidely "I was under the impression you have what I want,"
The man just shook his head. "Please don't kill me, my wife, my kids they need me," he begged.
Cooper raised an eyebrow.
The wife, a stout lady with a wooden leg burst through the door, her hands on her hips.
"Try Addy's." she said gruffly "Up the street about half a mile, turn right when you go past the big oak tree. You'll see it, she hard to miss,"
Cooper tipped his hat to the woman before turning back towards the man.
"Your wife got more balls than you," he commented, before glancing at the woman "Though if you've sent me to some kind of trap, you can be damn sure I'll be back to finish you off,"
The woman sneered "Addy's sent many a men back here with their tails between their legs, but she'll have what you want,"
Cooper nodded, and set off on his way, wondering who on earth this Addy was, and why he had never heard of her before.
The woman was right though, it was hard to miss. A short but long building, kept incuriously clean, with a large pink sign out front.
Welcome to Addy's, come on in!
Cooper's brow furrowed, as his hand found his gun. This place screamed trap, but he needed his radway and would be damned if he didn't get it.
He practically knocked down the door from the hinges as he kicked it open, his gun staring down anything that looked his way.
Not that anything did, the shop was empty. If he could call it that, it was more like an old bar. A long table stood at the far end of the shop, with smaller tables dotted around with chairs like some sort of diner.
"There's no need for that my dear, I'm not going to hurt you," came a sweet voice. Cooper turned, his eyes narrowed at the person in-front of him. She was clean, was the first thing that he noticed about her, her hair seemed washed, her face was smooth and unblemished, and her clothes neatly pressed. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"And you are?" Cooper asked, his gun not wavering from her face. The girl smiled.
"Can't you read honey? I'm Addy. Now why don't you put that gun down and we can get you what you need."
She didn't seemed bothered, nor the least bit threatened by him as she walked behind the long table and retrieved a large box, full of tiny little vials.
"Ghoulie ...I expect you're looking for Radway?" she asked sweetly "Though there's free water by the owl clock if you need," she gestured to a couple feet to his right where a barrel full of purified water sat.
"You're just giving away this shit? You could be rich," Cooper asked, his gun lowering a little.
Addy smiled "And what good will that do me? I've got everything I need - now why don't you sit for a bit, bounty hunter like you gotta be on his feet a lot,"
Cooper didn't need telling twice, though his eyes still darted around the shop, as if waiting for someone to come and attack.
"And you haven't been raided?" he asked eyebrow raised "How many people know about this place?"
Addy shrugged "Couple people have tried, they've never succeeded though," she said nonchalantly, before handing him three vials "First three are free sugar, after that you gotta pay me,"
Cooper dug in his pockets for his caps, but Addy shook her head.
"I don't bother with those bits of junk." she said, scrunching her nose up.
"Then what do people pay you in?" Cooper asked, his hand twitching towards his gun again.
Addy grinned "My, you're not very trusting are you honey?" she said gesturing to where his hand rested on the hilt of his weapon "People pay me in favours sweetheart. Sometimes I need bread, or I run out of milk," she said listing it off on her fingers.
"Well I ain't no farmer sweetheart," The Ghoul mocked.
Addy shook her head "No, but I might need you to find someone for me, everyone got their talents,"
Cooper nodded slightly "So I want eight of these, how much that gonna cost me in favours then?" he asked, still ever so slightly suspicious of her.
Her response was interrupted however, by a loud bang.
Cooper jumped up, gun in his hand, only to find a young girl running across the room, frantically knocking everything in her path.
Addy frowned "Laya?" she asked.
The little girl stopped, staring at the two adults. She couldn't have been more than twelve years old, but what caught the attention the most was the blood running down the inside of her thigh.
"Addy-" she gulped tears streaming down her face "I didn't want them too Addy, they wouldn't stop," she stuttered, her pale face turning a sickly green.
Cooper grimaced, he might have been evil, but he would never even dream of doing something like that, much less to a child.
Addy collected the little girl in her arms "Were your followed?" she asked sternly "It's okay if you were, I can take care of...how many were there?"
The little girl gulped "Five," she whispered "Please don't let them take me again,"
Addy nodded before turning to the Ghoul. "For five vials I want you to take that little girl to the back room back there. Do not let her see anything and do not come out," she said sternly "Not until I call you,"
Cooper shook his head "You want me to believe a small thing like you can take on five grown men? You're gonna need help with that,"
Addy raised her eyebrow "You asked me why I never got raided, and it's not because I had some Ghoulie doing my dirty work," she reprimanded "No go on sweetie, he's not gonna hurt you,"
She gently pushed the little girl into Cooper's arms, and hurried them into the back room.
The little girl immediate ran to the corner, her eyes never leaving the Ghoul in-front of her. She clearly didn't trust him in the slightest, but he paid her little attention.
Instead he looked around the room in surprise. The first thing he noticed again was how clean it was, even the rickety old bed was neatly made up. Dozens of trinkets, old tapes, an even an old TV stood in vicarious positions among the room. But what made his heart stop, was the blue and yellow uniform that hung on the back of the door, adorning the yellow number 4.
Addy was a Vaultie?
He snarled slightly, of course she had more than everyone else, the girl was a vaultie, she probably got sent supplies from people whilst the rest of the people starved.
"Stay there," he said to the little girl, who nodded in fear.
As he opened the door, he quickly ducked under one of the tables as five men walked into the bar, each with sickening grins on their faces. Cooper debating on helping the woman out, but the Blue and yellow uniform couldn't shake from his mind.
"Morning Addy, you haven't seen a little whore back here have you?" the front man snarled.
Addy looked at him coldly "No. I've seen a little girl, but there is no way in hell you are going to get her,"
Then men clicked their guns together menacingly. "And what's a pretty thing like you gonna do to stop us?"
Addy stared at him, "Violence never solves anything," she quipped.
The man sneered "Let's just put a bullet through her head and be off with it," he practically begged the other man. One of the men sighed and nodded.
"Look if you don't let us pass we are gonna have to shoot you," he said feigning sadness.
"I'd like to see you try," Addy replied politely, as if they were just having an honest conversation.
Cooper sighed, realising that this Addy girl was defiantly going to die and he was going to be stuck with a traumatised child to take home.
The man raised his gun, firing before Cooper could react. Addy whirled around, her fingers stopping inches before her face.
Did she just catch the bullet?
One of the man snarled, firing round after round, but Addy ducked under one of the tables, crawling along until she found -
"I thought I told you to stay in the fucking back?" she hissed at Cooper.
"You never mentioned you were a vaultie," he hissed back angrily.
Addy blinked "Oh shit I forgot to put that away - listen I'm not what you think," she said quickly, ducking again as more bullets fired there way into the hardwood. "Just give me five minutes and I'll explain everything,"
"Five minutes?" Cooper scoffed "With these guys?"
Addy nodded "And stay down. I don't need a ghoulie fighting my goddamn battles,"
He watched as the strange woman lept into the air, running along the table and diving off of it, taking down two of the men as she did so.
She snarled at the other three, two of which dropped their weapons in fear. For her face, her smooth dainty face had changed, warped into something they couldn't quite place. Large fangs protruded from her mouth like some kind of deranged animal, and her eyes darkened until they formed black holes.
She swiped at them, her claws scraping across them, cutting through their skin like butter. They howled, falling to the floor in agony, but didn't move again.
When she stood, she found the Ghoul pointing his gun at her as well, a strange feeling in his eyes. He hadn't felt fear in a long time, but this was something completely different. He didn't even know what to make of this.
Addy's face returned to normal, though the blood splatters on her skin did not.
"It's alright ghoulie I'm not gonna hurt you," she soothed "I told you to stay in the back room," she added, slightly annoyed.
"What the hell are you?" he asked his gun never wavering.
Addy groaned "For fuck sake," she said before sitting down on one of the chairs, her head in her hands.
Cooper didn't quite know what to do, his old self would have just shot her, his really old self would have tried to comfort her.
Addy sighed "You're right I am a vault dweller but not in the way you might think. My brother sold me, he wanted to be one of the overseers, so he sold me to Vault 4, the vault run by scientists. They had this sick thing where they wanted to create something half human, half animal," she laughed humourlessly. "Pulled me apart, put me back together until they got what they fucking wanted,"
Cooper lowered his gun. The clogs in his mind whirring, desperate to try and figure out exactly where he knew that girl from. He knew the overseer's of the vaults, or some of them anyway, could she be someone he used to know?
"You're Amy MacLean," he realised. This whole time he knew there was something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite place what. And now he knew.
Amy Maclean was the runner girl on the sets back in his days at Valt-tech, She must have been turning seventeen when he last saw her. Sweet, he remembered, always bringing him something for his dog to eat whenever she could.
Addy looked at him sharply "Haven't heard that name in a long time," she said. "Ghoulies live longer I suppose,"
Cooper frowned "How long have you been on the surface," she didn't appear to be that much older than when he last saw her, sure she was definitely late twenties to early thirties now, her baby-face teen look had shattered completely, but she didn't look 200.
Addy eyed him slightly before kicking her legs onto the table "70 years, I was here before the last bombs dropped on Shady sands," she said "Whatever those people did to me slowed down my aging process,"
Cooper finally lowered his gun "We should check on that little girl," he said, but Addy waved him off.
"Let her be on her own for a bit. Last thing she needs is people crowding round her,"
Cooper didn't dare ask how Addy knew that, he didn't want to know.
"You've been here ever since?" he asked. Addy nodded.
"Learnt how to purify radioactive water, takes a long time but you don't have to do much. I give the village fresh water, chems for illnesses and stuff. In return they don't kill my ass or raid me." she said with a sigh "It's not much, but it's about as safe as you can get round here,"
Cooper nodded slightly. It was impressive, what she had built, but part of him wished he had been there to protect her. She was just a kid, and now she's all grown up, and refused to let her heart harden to the world like he had done to his all those years ago.
"You can take nine vials, in return for the girls safe passing back to her house," Addy said "I'll throw in a hot meal too if you promise not to frighten her,"
"Deal," Cooper said " I gotta ask lady, how are you getting all these vials? These days they're hard to come by,"
Addy smiled up at him "I make it sweety. Radway was made by vault-tech, and when I escaped I stole their Chem book. The ingredients are damn hard to find, but it's an easy make after that,"
Cooper grinned "Well I know where to come back to then," his smile to anybody else would have been deemed threatening, as to anyone else his entire presence would have them quaking in their boots, but the strange girl just smiled up at him.
"You're always welcome here Mr Howard," she said softly.
It wasn't until Cooper left, the little girl trailing behind him did he realise, he had never told her his name.
Part two
#cooper howard#fallout#the ghoul#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard smut#cooper howard imagine#cooper howard fallout#fallout tv series#fallout series
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~Her man child~
Headcanons 📺
Vox is the definition of a manchild and I think it's kinda obvious.
He's the mean kind, acting with so much spite, sometimes without it being necessary or justified.
He NEEDS to be taken seriously. He tries so hard, blurring the lines between respect, fear and tolerance.
But when you two are alone... the telly-head man is a whiny boy.
He complains like it's a form of art. You can't help but roll your eyes playfully when he lets out a too loud sigh, but after doing so you're always ready to give him all the reassurance and attention he desperately craves.
Your man prefers being the little spoon. He's like a lap cat.
If anyone finds out about his cuddly nature, he's gonna die a second time...
Vox feels the need to constantly prove himself to Velvette and Valentino, but with you he feels safe. He can be overly emotional. And weak. And needy.
Very needy.
If you're not somewhere behind the camera admiring him and boosting his confidence, his day is ruined.
Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy.
In the mornings he doesn't even turn on his screen... settling for the protection setting instead.
You have to be patient with him.
Bring him a steaming cup of coffee and hug him from behind and he might as well start giggling like a schoolgirl.
He's too sensitive for harsh jokes. Being in Hell means ONLY dark and cruel humour, but Vox can't take it sometimes.
His ego is fragile.
In order to feel loved, Vox has to be showered in extravagant compliments on a daily basis. Whether it's about his appearance, his job, his amazing and very interesting personality... He needs them.
When you tell him he's better than the radio demon.... he literally gets rock hard.
Vox is in a constant dilemma between showing you off for all Pentagram City to know you're his, or keeping you secret.
It's the same as a boy with his favourite toy. If other kids see his toy, he's gonna have to share.
What if someone steals his favourite toy?! Or even worse... BREAK IT?!
That being said, he doesn't objectify you, but he's terrible at showing affection or appreciation.
He's gonna be there for you, help you with anything you need, laugh with you, spend quality time with you. Still, deep communication is a difficult subject for him.
Thank god you're observant enough to catch all the messages he tries to pass to you.
Such an attention seeker though.
Have you ever seen a six year old trying to impress his crush?
Just look at Vox trying to woo you. It's the same thing.
But he's not that bad... His self-esteem is an obstacle alright, but he becomes a rug for you to step on and use as you wish most of the time.
Vox would definitely go out of his way if you asked something from him. You're his rock. It's the least he can do.
The guy even whimpers in his sleep.
Vox loves to fill his hands with your thighs when it's bed time. They're warm and soothing to him, like stress toys. Being a walking television has its disadvantages temperature wise.
He would bend you over and take you in front of a mirror so he could see himself while at it, but he hasn't done so yet. He wants to ask you beforehand and make sure it won't make you feel weird.
Vox is easy to rile up. A breathy compliment and a squeeze of his thigh and he's more than ready to go.
He doesn't actually feel dominant, but he tries to act like it. This Vee member has the stereotype man = dominance engraved in his subconsciousness and so he fights to live up to it.
But between you and me... Treat him like an inexperienced and innocent boy and he'll be crying out in pleasure.
Aka... be a femdom. Even a soft one. You won't even have to try that much.
Another thing. Vox is loud. (Like his name implies 🫣)
He also pants a lot. Almost like he's hyperventilating.
Unlike Alastor, this man is very insecure about both his performance and... size.
I'm not saying he's lacking in either though. It's just how his mind works. Always comparing himself to his opponents and in this case, his opponents are other men that could perhaps satisfy you more thoroughly than him.
Allow me to say that he fucks in an anxious way. Hands shaking and his mantra "Does that feel good to you darling?"
You just need to praise him a little. (A lot)
He doesn't last that long but he'll be sure to rub your clit so you don't either.
When it gets too real, he tears up at the end, like a baby that's holding back from crying. But you're there to hold him until he calms down.
He's usually too tired (and still nervous) afterwards for proper aftercare. Vox likes to be babied though. It's more personal attention after all.
Oh to be cleaned up and tucked to bed! Only then will he feel comfortable enough to run his fingers through your hair and mumble a faint thank you.
Vox's head has a bit of an awkward shape for cunnilingus. However, he has a surprisingly long tongue that can reach more than enough to have you moaning out how good of a boy he's being.
He usually cums in his pants while eating you out.
And when you return the favour it's usually to relieve his stress at work. He feels like a teenager when you do it. It's an act of service, really.
He low-key fucks your face, not enough to choke you but you do gag around him. It makes him feel in control. It makes him feel like a man.
To sum up, Vox is a bit dependent on you and on your validation, but he would never hurt you or become too overbearing.
He's needy, but not stupid.
He is the definition of a manchild and I think I proved my point.
But he's your manchild sis!
Support a struggling university student! Thank you so so much🫶 CLICK HERE (PayPal link)
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my masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🦷
Vox divider by @rubra-wav
Support divider by @cafekitsune
The explicit content one... I don't remember :(
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hc#hazbin hotel hc#vivziepop#hazbin hotel headcanons#the vees#vox#vox x reader#vox x you#vox hazbin hotel#vox hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox headcanons#vox smut#vox x alastor#radiostatic#fem!reader#not s f w 💀#valentino hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin valentino#hazbin velvette#hazbin vees#smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin#vox x valentino
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Eternity and Counting
(Pt1) This is a running piece I've nearly finished, but the whole thing is way too long to post as one chapter sooooo... This part's pretty short just for the sake of timeline splitting.
Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)
TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad, everybody is crying like all the time
MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.
(Takes place in the Frost Flowers event (sorta?), with mild "that chapter where MC finds out they're the Bridge" spoilers. Can't remember which chapter that was.)
~/\~
It's so heavy. This grand weight I've been lugging around since that day. I should have died. I was supposed to die. I would have deserved it too. All I've ever managed to do was cause problems for this family. And maybe I still am. The idea almost stopped me. Visions of their faces. Their tears. Their grief. It did, actually. A few times at least. But not today. It's happened again. Everything was going just fine until that God-forsaken dog decided I would be the object of his affection. Somehow, in spite of the threat it faced to the nation, the brothers refused to just hand me over. Almost losing not just their home, but their kingdom, for my sake. Yet again wasting their time trying to save me. Just like they did when my stupid power nearly killed Lucifer. When Lucifer nearly killed HIMSELF to save me. A bitter, evil part of me is still mad at Michael for stopping me. For saving me.
My arms feel heavy as lead as I lay here, counting away the seconds. I've got nearly an hour before anybody gets home from RAD. Plenty of time to make sure I stay dead. I feel a little bad for lying about being sick to get out of classes today. But maybe I am. Doesn't matter much now anyway. Really, my biggest concern in the current moment is how long it will take Barbatos to notice the ingredients I took. Sure, he's in classes right now too, but he pops in and out of the castle all day long. The likelihood of him stopping into the kitchen and noticing the cracked cabinet door, the scavaged shelves, and finally the open jars is uncomfortably high. In my defense, the chances of that happening while I was there were equally high, so I can't be blamed for the messy crime. But he's only got a few moments more before his discovery will be for naught, so I suppose it's not terribly worrying.
I can feel it, creeping up my spine like a cold massage. The ever-growing numbness. The slow death of my limbs. My lungs. Me. It's growing darker now, unnaturally so, even for The Devildom. I can finally free them of my burden. Free myself of it too. But I would like to offer a final scorn to whatever God allowed me to hear the gentle creaking of the front door.
~/\~
(Mammon's POV)
A chill runs through my spine,like something ominous is lurking behind me, but as I turn around, nobody's there. In spite of that comfort, I can't shake this overwhelming dread coating my nerves and sinking into my bones, urging me to move. Driving me to jog home. The gentle sway of the bag on my arm becoming notably more violent as it begins swinging by my side.
My hands can't work fast enough as I try to unlock the front door. I break into a near sprint as I approach their door, slamming it open.
"MC?" I call, it's dark in their room, but I can just make out the shape of their body resting in their bed. "Oh, you're just sleeping." I mumble, walking up to their bed and setting the bag on the ground next to it.
"Hey, I gotcha some human world medicines." I whisper, pulling a few bottles from the bag. "C'mon, you gotta wake up and take some."
I can't help but roll my eyes at their lack of reaction. "Been spending too much time with Belphie." I reach up to shake their shoulder gently.
Nothing happens. So I try again, fingers gripping just barely tighter. Tight enough to feel the unsettling chill of their skin. It seeps through my fingertips and into my soul. Gripping my heart in white hot fear.
"MC, wake up." I shake them again. "MC." Their name falls from my lips like a plea. "MC please-" I grab their other shoulder. "MC!" Tears spill from my eyes, breath shaky and ragged. "Wake up!"
(Raghhhh, sorry about this)
-Your dear friend, the author
#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me#mammon x reader#obey me mammon#obey me diavolo#diavolo x reader#obey me angst#why did i make this#send help#obey me leviathan#obey me x mc#obey me belphegor
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On leadership
This is a personal comment on @luhafraser's last post, where she wrote, in plain English:
'But I can't help but notice that since I joined this fandom, what we have in all the groups in this fandom are "leaders", they come and go, new ones appear, or reinvent themselves. There are people that stand out and lead others to follow their ideas and statements. It is these people that receive information, have sources, receive pics, and are fed by "anonymous" (Sorry, but a lot of things that have already appeared could only have come from someone "inside"). I know we are all adults, but there are those who know how to influence or who are led to be influencers, there are those who understand that and there are those who don't.'
Dear @luhafraser,
You wrote a couple of things with great confidence, as you usually do, and I feel I have to say something,
I have invited you already to name names, not allude to persons in your posts, as you so transparently seem to be doing right now. So yes, I felt looked upon and judged. By you (and not only you). Since Day 1. You thought I was never going to respond, well - you were wrong. The day has come and the day is now.
Dear @luhafraser, while I do immensely appreciate your real qualities (intelligence, humor, sleuthing, etc.), I am less a fan of this kind of little games, both in public and behind the scenes. My sudden apparition seems to have bothered you, with Anons asking you (June 20, 2023) if I was really a new person joining in and you denying it without taking the time to talk to me:
This is simply not done, my dear. I have openly and transparently engaged with people since Day 1 and never lied about my own circumstances. Your answer started a flurry of speculation that kept people interested all summer long and forced me to dox myself. So kindly prove me and all the others I am not a newbie (something completely impossible to do), do it in public and own the things you post in here.
I am not a leader of anything, @luhafraser , and I have no wish to be regarded as such. Ever. I have learned, in 20 years of my high-level public service career, that being the boss corrupts and exposes. But yes, I did want to be a disruptively positive voice in what I felt to be an intimidated community. I wanted to bring more clarity and all those research skills to all of you. I wanted honesty. And I, above anything else, wanted to help. And I am sorry that people agreeing or liking what I post seems to bother you. It is not something I can help you with. It is what it is. There is a place for all our voices to be heard in here. Every single one of them.
I have no inside information on SC and never did. I have not betrayed anything that was shared with me in DMs and only posted things when adamantly asked to do so, after careful vetting and only from people I knew. However I am a hell of a bloodhound when I am set to find something and I am rather good at what I do, also in real life. I also know when to stop and will never share things that would be legally questionable. It would expose us and it is a risk simply not worth taking.
I am not here for clicks and likes. My block list is three or four times bigger than my dash. I do not care for fame, but I do care for a couple of trusted people that became real friends. It is for them and for them only that I am not giving you satisfaction and quit.
I keep my promises. I will not go anywhere. If you do not like what I write, please unfollow and block immediately - this goes for anyone that feels bothered about me being here, in any way. I have no wish to start a war with any of you - that would make Mordor glee with joy for months. But please do me and yourself a favor: if in doubt, go now. I cannot stand duplicity, never could.
I hope that sets the record straight. Believe it or not, I have no hostility towards you. Not a single ounce.
I am not expecting an answer.
[Later edit;] I am glad I doxed myself. Very glad. But that is another story.
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A Mess || Part 10
Yes, ladies and gents and non-binary readers alike, the long awaited final part to A Mess has arrived. I’ve had this written for months and honestly thought I posted it already, so forgive the wait. I’m just a 23 year old teenage girl.
ANYWAYS, the polls for the contents of this final part resulted in:
More smut
Post Terminus / Pre Alexandria setting
The relationship becoming officially established & public
ANNNDDD a sequel series which is in the works ❤️🔥
18+ MDNI || Warnings: smut (male receiving oral, fingering, mild grinding), TWD typical stuff
The days seemed to drag on the way they did after Shane died. You felt like an old paintbrush dragging across a desolate canvas, leaving a trail of splotchy grays and bloody smears, painting your surroundings to mimic the twisted feelings of turmoil inside you. The prison was gone and so many were lost. Beth was dead. So were Bob and Tyreese. At least Carol was back.
You struggled to find anything to be grateful for, anymore. Sure, you narrowly escaped the hungry bellies of the cannibals at Terminus, and sure you were still alive, but were you really living? Was dragging the worn boots Daryl had gifted you when life was more forgiving across cracked asphault while your stomach gnawed away at your insides really any kind of life? Sometimes you wondered what you pressed on for. Especially with Daryl so reserved and closed off like he was. The loss of Beth had done something to him that you couldn't fully relate to because you weren't with Beth after the prison, you escaped with Glenn and found yourself locked away in a dark train car by the time you finally reunited with Daryl.
He had formed a sort of connection with her, something pure and protective, something that was shattered right before his eyes with a single gunshot.
You wished he'd just talk to you. Or touch you. Or even look at you. Was he so miserable he lost all interest? Surely not. He loved you. He told you so, the day he wound up in that train car with you.
You shielded your eyes as a bright light filled the dark box that confined you. You were sure they were coming to finally kill you off or whatever it was they planned to do with you.
You had sustained an injury to your head in the struggle to round you all up, so you were admittedly out of it. It wasn't until you felt rough hands around your cheeks and heard the panic and relief in his voice that you really registered what was going on.
"(Y/N)." He breathed as he planted a rough kiss on your forehead then your lips. "I thought you were dead. I love ya, ya hear me? I fuckin' love you."
You may not have remembered much from your concussed state, and he may have never said it again, but that was a memory you held onto with every last bit of your strength. He loved you.
You knew he just needed some time, but you also knew you needed him. You were slipping away; losing hope. A simple touch could have made the difference of life or death for you at that point.
Then, it rained. It was welcome. Your dry cracked lips, burning throat, and aching organs were brought back to life as you caught the droplets on your tongue. When the thunder rumbled, Daryl urged you all to an old barn he had found off on his own. He did that often; going off on his own.
The night was loud and it was hard to find any rest. The wind slapped the weathered wooden walls and seemingly shook the ground. The thunder was loud and frequent, bright flashes infiltrating the cracks and openings as the lightning grew closer. You tossed and turned a lot, only to eventually sit yourself up and rub your eyes. You jumped when your eyes readjusted to the darkness to see a looming figure before you.
"Hey." He whispered. You blinked.
"Hey." You whispered back. He stepped over and sat down beside you.
"Y'alright?" He asked.
"Can't sleep." You shrugged, not looking at him.
"Mm." He nodded. "Other than that."
"Just... tired." Was all you managed. There wasn't enough time in a day -- or sleepless night -- to go through and examine your emotions enough to lay them all out flat for him. Plus, that was never really his strong suit. You two showed each other how you felt in place of saying it. You always had. Which was another reason it hurt you so bad for him to pull away. You knew if he was done with what you had, he'd never say it. He'd just let you figure it out on your own, and you'd never really know why.
"That ain't it." He pointed out. "But it's okay. I know I ain't been much for talkin' lately. You don't gotta be, either."
You were lost for words. Was this an attempt at letting you back in? At being close to you?
"Anyway, I, uh.." He cleared his throat and glanced around, scanning through the dim light of the dying fire to ensure he hadn't woken anyone. "I just miss ya, is all."
"Oh." You nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
"Look, I just needed to figure it out, ya know? Let myself feel it." He persisted. "After Beth... After everything, I just couldn't let myself. But now I did, and I need to say sorry."
"I just didn't know if..."
"Nah." He cut you off. "That wasn't on you. That was me. 'N' I'm sorry."
"It's okay." You placed a gentle hand on his knee. "I get it."
Some moments passed in silence as you both felt devoid of anything to say. He cleared his throat again.
"Can I stay with you?" He asked.
"Yeah. Of course." You half smiled, even though he probably couldn't see. You shuffled over to a bed of old hay where you had laid out a jacket.
He laid down, propping his arm under his head in place of a pillow, and your crawled down beside him, curling up into his side and taking a breath. He was ripe with a lack of access to hygiene, but then again, so were you, so you decided to enjoy the musk as a byproduct of his closeness.
The longer you lay awake, feeling the warmth of his body, the more it hit you just how bad you needed him in such trying times. You realized then, more than ever, how bad you were craving his touch, his scent, his voice, his taste.
You popped your head up and looked up at his face. It was shadowy and dark but you’d recognize his features in total darkness. He glanced down at you with a softness, wondering what you were about to say.
However, ‘saying’ wasn’t on your agenda. No, it was much more of a ‘doing’ that you had planned.
You stretched your neck out to kiss him on the jaw as his hand rested contently on the back of your head. He thought you were just being affectionate in the way that girlfriends did when they missed their man, and you were, but you had other things planned, too. As your lips planted little kisses along his jawline until they met his own, he relaxed into the semi-comfortable bed of hay. He figured whatever you were doing, was just your way of telling him you missed him. After all, you two always showed what you felt, and rarely said it.
When your lips met his you quietly climbed over top of him, straddling him as you depend the kiss. The more you touched him, the deeper you felt his absence since Grady.
You broke away for a breath and littered more sloppy kisses over his cheeks and neck, stopping somewhere in between to nibble at his earlobe. He groaned quietly under the weight of you and your affections, hoping you’d stop whatever you were doing soon, as the aching member in his jeans was already begging to be touched. Unfortunately, there was no end in sight to your erotic touches. As you shifted, your own wet heat glided over the bulge in his pants, and you realized you were succeeding in your mission.
You were downright needy for him, breathy whines escaping you as you grounded against him, rubbing your flat hands over his chest with hunger, catching his lips in yours between sucking and nibbling at the flesh of his neck. His hands gripped your thighs as you got hotter and hornier, quickly realizing he wasn’t getting out of this one.
When you pulled back again, flushed and sweaty already, you could barely see the glisten in his eyes as he stared back at you. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear; “Quiet, okay?”
He nodded once and you slowly slid down until your face was level with his waist. Slowly, silent as you could manage, you unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and wiggled them down his thighs. He let out a small breath when you rigged his boxers down, cold air hitting his bare flesh. With one last glance up at his face, you smirked and turned your attention to his tip, gently licking and planting wet kisses all around it.
A pleasant “agh” escaped him, prompting you to take it a step further. You wrapped your juicy lips around his tip and slowly lowered yourself, bobbing up and down with no sense of haste. He tried desperately to suppress any vocalizations that may have been at bay, fearful he’d wake someone, especially Carl or baby Jude.
It was painfully slow, the way you’d take him in further every so often, and when you finally met the base of him, he couldn’t suppress the groan. You quickly glanced around for any stirring bodies, and continued when you found none. Slow like a snail, gliding your lips and tongue up and down his length, hollowing out your cheeks to create a vacuum. You wanted him to understand what he was missing, what kind of bliss you could give him. You wanted him to feel your absence when he wasn’t around, just like you did his.
Soon enough he was throbbing in your mouth, his hips uncontrollably jerking. He was close. You debated whether or not to take it all the way or leave him begging for more. You opted to give him some relief, given the miserable circumstances of your lives.
You took all of him at once, his load spilling into the back of your throat and dripping down. You stayed like that for a moment, barely bobbing back and forth, allowing him to ride his high and come back down.
You wiped your mouth and grinned at him as you pulled away. With your help, he shimmied his pants back up and secured the button. You took your place beside him once again, snuggling up close, your head rested between his chest and shoulder.
He took a few minutes to recover before he used two fingers to guide your jaw up so he could place a gentle kiss on your swollen lips. He moved his kissed over your cheek and to your ear and whispered, “Quiet, okay?”
You bit your lip and smiled as he carefully slid his fingers in your jeans and traced one across your slit, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. Deciding his big hand wouldn’t have enough room in your buttoned jeans, he went ahead and unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down to allow more movement.
With that out of the way, he could work delicately on your sweet spots, gently dragging his finger up and down your slit to get it nice and wet. All the while, you were biting down on your lip trying to keep quiet. He noticed the way your hips with try to follow his finger when it moved up. You wanted him inside you, so he’d give it to you.
He slid his middle finger inside you and pumped it in and out a few times, laying a free hand over your mouth to make sure your sounds could be muffled. Your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his calloused skin massaging your insides, effortlessly finding that one spot that made you weak. His thumb found your clit as he fingered you, rubbing little circles, eliciting a small moan. He paused and gave you a look, reminding you where you were. You nodded, letting him know you understood, and he continued. A trembling breath released from your nose, his other hand still over your mouth, as he slipped a second finger inside and continued massaging your g-spot and rubbing your clit.
As he settled into a rhythm, your body responded. You rocked your hips with his movements, communicating to him to keep up what he was doing. He understood. He always understood you.
In no time at all, all that pent up frustration and aches for his touch finally heated to a boiling point, and you spilled over. Your body and voice trembled as you shook and rode your orgasm on his fingers. When your body calmed and you flinched at his touch, he pulled his hand away and buttoned you back up. He relaxed again, triumphant this time, and you curled up close to him and drifted to sleep in an instant.
Daryl was the first to wake the next morning, but given your position sprawled across him, you were quick to get up with him. The two of you went outside to assess the storm damage. Trees had fallen in the night, narrowly missing the barn itself. You made small talk as you wandered the area, occasionally taking out a stray walker. When you went back inside, hand in hand, the rest of the group was awake and shuffling around. Maggie was the first to notice the way Daryl held your hand so casually, then Sasha, then Glenn and the rest. Nobody knew what to say, but they all stared and exchanged glances amongst each other. Daryl shifted a tad, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but he braved his anxieties and stood firmly beside you. He cleared his throat.
“Damage is pretty bad out there. ‘S a miracle then damn trees didn’t fall right on us.” He said.
“Huh.” Rick hummed, nodding, still perplexed. He nodded down at your hand entwined with Daryl’s and raised his eyebrows.
“Oh.” Daryl shrugged, holding your hands up and looking down at them. He realized the two do you never really established a relationship, especially not completely openly. He figured the way he told you he loved you back in that train car at Terminus would have been a dead giveaway, but tensions were high back then. Maybe it went unnoticed. He shrugged again. “Yeah.”
You stifled a laugh and shook your head. Your family all smirked and smiled sweetly, but didn’t press further, save for Carol, who spoke in a ‘told you so’ kind of tone. “It’s about time you two quit playing footsies and took things to the next level.”
Masterlist // Taglist
tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix
#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl x female reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl x you#daryl x y/n
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That smile on your face, makes it easy to trust you.
Girl with the smile. - Sergio Pérez x Reader.
summary: Checo finally gets to talk to the girl he's been smiling at every day.
The sun hit her face so beautifully, like an ancient greek goddess. There are so many words Checo could use to explain her beauty, yet none ever captured the breaths she takes away. Every drill, every motor sound blurs and the world slows when she smiles right back at him.
It's been a race season filled with smiles from her. Teeth showing, or even just a grin that he couldn't get enough of. The amount of times he has caught her staring can't be counted, but it also works vice-versa.
Y/n is her name, she's Adrian's new protégé. They never crossed paths enough to talk, maybe the fact they were both blushing even at the sound of each other's name helped with the avoiding too.
The moment Sergio saw her relaxing outside the garage on her phone, he just knew it was time to finally talk to her. Those bambi eyes she always had moved up to look at him. And that damn smile came out again. Y/n's pink lips pulling and her perfectly asymmetrical teeth showing.
" Hi! " She started the conversation with a light giggle at his presence. Locking and setting her phone down, leaning forward to show him how much she was interested in talking to him.
His legs shook, being at her full mercy. She could simply walk away from him and he'd still watch her walk away with a love-sick look. A permanent blush stuck on Sergio's face at her attention to details.
" Hey. " Showing a tight lipped smile to her.
" I'm Y/n! How are you Checo? " The way she talked so gently yet so confident in her own knowledge made him want to listen to her for eternity. Her accent is heavy on the way she says his nickname. Heavenly and simply beautiful.
" I'm good. It's finally the moment for us to talk. " Light pours over his back, highlighting the way his eyebrows move closer while pronouncing words, as if to not trip over himself. Y/n never saw Sergio do that with anyone else. It made her chuckle.
Her hand finds her drink, taking a quick sip only to resume her talking.
" Been looking for you every day and night I'm here. " Laughing at her own middle school crush.
" I've been wanting to hear your accent slip through when you're talking to me, not to those interviewers. " He stated, remembering the times he saw her embarrassed over not knowing the english words for something.
" If you want it, i will grant it to you, Sergio. "
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 568,239 others
yourusername: Those innocent eyes.
tagged: schecoperez
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schecoperez: That smile on your face.
yourusername: taught u so well abt Miguel babyy🥹
landonorris: Y/n really taught Checo about Girl with the tattoo before she did anything else🤨
maxverstappen1: I literally don't wanna see you look at each other with those lingering stares anymore..
yourusername: stfu lil bro. im chewing on your set of tires the next pit stop😤
Viki's Radio: I love my man smm!!! omfg i love checo sm its odd at this point🙏🏻 need more fanfics 4 himm.
#sergio perez x reader#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#checo perez x reader#sergio perez#sergio perez smau
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I know kids have been asked about but how they would they treat a physically pregnant darling?
From the second he learns about your pregnancy, Vivien dedicates himself to making this as easy as possible. He checks out all the books on babies at the library, reading and taking notes on everything. He wants to study every technique, every opinion, anything to ensure you have the safest and most comfortable pregnancy possible. You can't stop working, but as soon as you get home, he directs you to put your feet up and relax. Anything you're craving, he'll cook it for you. Need the remote, he's up and grabbing it. Morning sickness, he's holding your hair back and working with his herbs to find a concoction to beat it. Our sweet Vivien will run himself ragged trying to look after you. He says you're "growing body parts" so him running out at 3am to get sesame chicken is nothing. He shows up to every single doctor's appointment with a notepad, even if it's in the middle of the work day, taking copious notes on whatever the doctor says. He is also incredibly worried, but he doesn't want to annoy you or make you mad at him. He constantly checks how you’re feeling, reminding you regularly to tell him if you feel anything strange or wrong and he'll rush you straight to the doctor. He'll ask for the both of you to take gentle walks, to lay in bed a while longer, to eat more vegetables for the baby's health. He is fully aware that while this is your undertaking, he needs to take responsibility and be the best husband he can be. Any requests about the birth are honored, and he is the kind of guy to be fully involved by letting you squeeze his hand as hard as possible. He will also cut the cord and pull the kid out himself if he has to, he's not squeamish. He volunteers for every diaper and late-night feeding, and he will massage your aching stretch marks at least thrice a week. He starts out somewhat awkward with the baby, he has never had much experience with little children, but the love he holds for his child is almost tangible. He rambles to them constantly, talking about his plants, his work, and how much he loves his new little family.
Atalanta is pleased but concerned. She is not panicked like Vivien; she knows that the pregnancy itself is already implanted in the uterus, and thus, the hard part is done. She can take care of the rest. She becomes stricter when you're pregnant. Your main rule now is to do nothing that could put you or your daughter in harm's way, no junk food, a daily gentle exercise schedule, and your outfits planned by her to make sure you’re not putting unnecessary pressure on your abdomen. Atalanta cannot take a chance on losing this child; she needs an heir, therefore this child will be born and born healthy. She will pay an entire team of doctors to consult on your pregnancy with daily checkups to ensure everything is going right, no matter how annoying it is. You can still spend time with your friends and family, the time is just now limited because she wants you home and taking a rest once a day now. She completely stops all punishments, she is too scared that even hurting your feelings will damage the child somehow. Any small slights will be forgiven, and anything major will be remembered until after the birth. She buys only the latest, most well-studied baby equipment, and hooks you up to it daily. She will allow you to take charge during the birth, she knows it is a sensitive and delicate time, but she wants to cut the cord and hold the child first. After the birth, congratulations: you have earned the ultimate rest. Atalanta will bring in a trusted nurse to care for the child, and you do not have to worry about any of the gross things like changing diapers or dealing with spit-up. You just have to focus on healing and bonding with your new daughter. If you would like, Atalanta knows of a wonderful spa for postpartum mothers in California. It's only 1k per night; she can easily set up a month for you and the child to recover there; she'll just have to work remotely for a while. Atalanta loves her daughter; she is a good mother, albeit a little distant, but she will support and care for her child through everything.
#Atalanta my oc#Vivien my oc#soft yandere#yandere#yandere imagine#yandere blog#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere darling#yandere fluff#yandere headcanons#yandere girl#possesive yandere#yandere bf#yandere boy#yandere dubcon#yandere headcannons#yandere headcanon#yandere imagines#yandere lesbian#yandere male#yandere original character#yandere thoughts#yandere x reader#yandere x willing reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you
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Something tells me that Overlord Husk would 100% be a sugar daddy who loves spoiling his S/O. Like Husk probably has a lot of money from gambling I know that man is loaded. He just wants to snuggle his S/O and tell them how amazing they look in all the expensive things he’s bought them. At the same time he listens to you and respects your boundaries. Okay maybe not a sugar daddy but like a very rich cat demon boyfriend.
I know that probably isn’t true in canon he was apathetic to the souls he owned considering he’d deal them with other Overlords but dammit let me dream!
- sparkling heart anon 💖
Oh, anon, you have no idea how much I adore Overlord Husk as a sugar daddy. I don't even see why it should need to contradict canon too badly, actually! Yes, he was mostly apathetic to the souls he owned and gambled. He wouldn't have been able to gain as much power as he did if he saw those souls as people. I think he'd occasionally have those moments where something in him cracks as he realizes what he's doing, gambling off souls to god-knows-who like fucking cattle, but he has to turn that part of his brain off in order to get any work done. Thinking about that too hard will irreparably break his psyche. (He can have that break after his fall, when he's lying alone at night with nothing else to think about besides what he'd spent so many years doing.)
But then he meets you. Maybe you walk into the casino looking to make a deal with him in exchange for work, or maybe he wins you from a much more sadistic Overlord. He lays his eyes on you, and he immediately knows you're something special, like a valuable jewel, something he'd be foolish to gamble away like nothing. He immediately sets to making your new life with him comfortable, spoiling you with presents and trips, keeping you on his arm at Overlord events and making sure everyone knows you're his precious lucky charm and that he will do anything to keep you safe. Others have suggested he bet you in exchange for untold riches and power, anything he could possibly desire; but what could be worth losing you? Even worse, what could be worth ever putting you in harm's way? (If Valentino even thinks about you, Husk will kill him and make it painful.) He's so proud of you, not just for your looks, but for your talents and who you are as a person. He adores you. If your relationship with him becomes sexual, he eventually starts seeing his dancers and other clients less and less. Why sleep with them when he can have you? He wouldn't pressure you into any sort of physical affection, of course, but god does he love spoiling you physically as well as monetarily. (After he gives you a present, thank him with a kiss and an "I love it, daddy!" The man will melt into a puddle.)
He falls in love with you eventually. Love was the last thing on his mind when he took you on as his spoiled little pet, but those feelings soon sneak up on him, and once he acknowledges them he can't see how he was supposed to not fall in love with you. Out of everything he's gained as an Overlord, you're the best thing that's happened to him. He'll do anything to keep you by his side, happy and safe and loved...
...but what happens when everything starts to fall apart? He starts losing money and souls just as quickly as he earned them. He becomes more reclusive, sitting out of events when he can afford to. He gambles more than ever, desperate to get back on top, but he only ends up losing more and more. He's trying to hide how dire things are getting from you, but the surprise presents have mostly stopped, aside from the occasional bouquet or jewelry that you know didn't cost that much. And you're not judging him for that, it's about the thought and not the money... but what changed?
You soon find him hunched over his desk, looking over papers informing him of overdue debts and the dire consequences should he not pay up. They aren't just threatening him, but they're threatening you, something he would have never told you until you accidentally saw one of the letters on his desk...
He'll protect you, he promises, he'll make the money, he'll never let them hurt you...
...but would you feel safer if he let you go? They'd have no reason to hurt you if you weren't tied to him anymore...
He can't imagine why you wouldn't want to go. He's not the rich, powerful fat cat whose lap of luxury you used to live in. Here he sits in his trashed study, surrounded by debt paperwork and bottles of liquor, clothes and fur disheveled, eyes puffy from the rage-crying fit that led you to check on him in the first place. How could you still love him like this?
Climb into his lap and let him hold you. Let him cry it out. And most importantly, let him know you're not leaving, that it was never about the money, that you love him...
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel husk x reader#hazbin husk x reader#sure i like this one i'll tag it#irk blubbers about nothing#irk got asked a thing#irk talks to strangers#irk huskposts
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I think it's going to go the way all of their IG "tours" go.
why do you think they're trying to frame it differently to their other tours? it's not the first time they travelled abroad
and do you think it'll be a success in the way of half-in half-out?
In a way, it's more of a recruitment trip for them and I suspect it's a bit of do-or-die, make-or-break kind of a trip.
If you look at their prior travels, it's all been "done deal" trips, where all they really had to do was show up. The Hague, Dusseldorf, and Vancouver Invictus Games were set up before Megxit (Hague and Dusseldorf definitely, less confident on Vancouver but the timeline kinda lines up for some sort of ancillary support from the BRF) using BRF/Royal Foundation staffers and connections to make the arrangements.
(ohhhhhhh god I just actually read the IG press release (archived link) that came out this morning. Harry announced the shortlist finalists for the 2027 Invictus Games. It's Birmingham UK and Washington DC. I cannot, you guys. I cannot be waking up to the Sussexes on my local news, in my local papers, on my social media algorithms.)
Anyway, this is the first time that Harry has really had to work to recruit hosts for Invictus Games. He started last year with a mini-trip to Japan but my feeling is Japan gave a big fat NO because they didn't send anyone to compete in Dusseldorf and then almost right away Harry started love-bombing Nigeria. First by becoming their groupies at IG. Then sending period products and school supplies to Nigerian schools. Now having negotiated a trip. (And these trips don't just pop up at the last minute; this is something that's been in the works for quite some time, especially since the military seems to be involved.)
Now consider this article from The Express, which reports that at least 2,000 veterans have quit/left Invictus Games because they're unhappy it's turned into the Harry-and-Meghan-Fauxyal-Tour. 2,000 is a HUGE number...especially considering that just 513 veterans competed in Dusseldorf IG. (Each of the Games has about 500 athletes. That's not a sustainable business model. For comparison: the 2022 Warrior Games had 300 athletes participating from 3 countries - the US, Canada, and Ukraine.)
And remember the essay I wrote a couple weeks ago about how Invictus Games had to be thinking about cutting Harry loose because he doesn't really do anything for them? (I honestly can't find it tonight. If anyone has a link, can you please share it? I thought I tagged that post but it's not coming up.)
So both of those things coming together - having to recruit for IG hosts now and blood in the IG water over veterans complaining about the Sussexes - means that Harry really needs the Nigeria trip to go well if he wants to keep Invictus Games. So he's got to actually work on this trip, and so does Meghan, so they're defaulting back to royal protocols hoping that the protocols are enough to woo and lovebomb people. I think what they're trying to do is say "if we come, this is all the attention and all the media that we'll bring with us, now imagine how much more attention and coverage you'll get over the next 5 years when you're an Invictus Games host."
It is kinda half in/half out, especially since it looks like government officials and Defense officials are involved in the trip (and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Harry rolls up with his medals again). But it feels more like desperation to me. They made their bed four years ago abusing and using Invictus Games because they could, only now Invictus Games has come to collect and is demanding they make good on Harry's role as Patron.
From a lot of the recent news coverage - Harry's leaks to the Express about pulling out of the anniversary service, Invictus Games now clapping back about how the veterans don't want Harry involved anymore, all the hype about their groundbreaking royal/anti-royal trip to Nigeria, and the confirmation that the Nigeria trip is expressly because of Invictus Games - there's definitely something happening behind closed doors at Invictus Games that seems to be making the Sussexes very nervous if they're now pivoting back to royal cosplay.
And also let's not forget the rumor that Mike Tindall has been asked to be an ambassador for Invictus Games in a role that might supplant Harry.
And not only that, I also feel like Harry and Meghan think that if the Nigeria trip goes well and it's a success and they come away with a deal for 2029 Invictus Games or having reversed their popularity slide, they can use it to shoehorn half in/half out from Charles by being able to point to this and say "see? We can do this. Look at what you're missing. You need us."
I'm not sure if it will be a success. The Sussexes often get in the way of their own selves when they really need things to go well and this trip is rife with potential for that. From the security concerns to military cosplay to appearance of it being an official visit on Charles's behalf to Diana cosplays to the goverment/Nigerian military involvement to just their personalities and mannerisms, it won't take much for something to go wrong. It'll take everything for the trip to go well.
On the one hand, I hope it works. I know how much Invictus Games means to Harry and I think he really derives some kind of true joy from being able to provide these services and opportunities to his fellow veterans and soldiers. But on the other hand, I hope it goes wrong ten ways to Sunday so Charles has no choice but to step in and remind everyone - Sussexes and the Commonwealth alike - that there's no half in/half out without his approval and they do not have it, no matter what the Sussexes pretend otherwise.
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Damian (Gremlin) Wayne and his even more gremlin-esque family pt.5
Richard, Jason and Tim stand outside of Bruce's large bathroom, the three sets of blue eyes narrowing at the little boy splashing around cutely in their father's bathtub. Jason can't help the disbelieving scoff that escapes from his mouth at the sight of Damian gathering bubbles in his hand and blowing them with quite possibly the cutest giggle he's ever heard ugliest little chortle he's ever heard.
Jason softly growls deep in his throat and looks down at Richard while pointing at said bouncing baby boy through the cracked open door. "Look at the little dirtbag! Playing the cute card up while we were left to clean everything up! I oughta drown him in his own bathwater."
Richard shushes Jason and reaches up to pat the younger boy's head. "Drowning is going a bit too far...but in due time we'll make Damian see things our way."
Tim lets out a huff from below Richard, "Can't he reflect on it while being held under the water? I know I'd love to get my hands on him and teach him a thing or two about stepping in on our territory." Tim looks at Bruce as he says "territory" and listens to the agreeing noise Jason makes. And you know what? It's kind of disturbing how much they've been in agreement lately...but for now their alliance is what matters most during this trying time.
The sound of Damian talking interrupts the three aggravated boys, the trio leaning closer to hear what the younger boy is saying.
"You know, father....I think I want those toy ducks you offered to put in the water. Unless it's too much trouble?" Richard holds back the strangled noise his throat tries to make at the sight of Bruce kindly smiling and kissing Damian's forehead before rising to a stand. "It's no trouble at all. Give me some time to go find them and I'll be right back to wash your hair."
Damian hums and smiles at Bruce leaving, watching carefully as his father freezes outside of the doorway and looks around suspiciously. The small boy pops a bubble before addressing his dad, "What's the matter? Are you alright, father?" Bruce shakes his head and smiles at Damian before reassuring the boy that everything is fine and leaving the bedroom.
Damian's smile drops as soon as he hears the bedroom door click shut, his tongue clicking to the roof of his mouth while he narrows his green eyes to the entrance of the bathroom. "I know you three are out there spying on me and father. Are you trying to sabotage my special time with him? Because if so, you'll be the ones drowning in this bathwater instead of me."
Green eyes stay trained on the doorway, a self-satisfied smile stretching Damian's lips at seeing Richard, Jason and Tim shuffling into the bathroom with varying looks of displeasure written on their faces.
Tim crosses his arms and holds Damian's glare with his own, "So you knew we were there the whole time and didn't say anything?" Damian delights in Tim's eye twitching when he throws some bubbles at him, "Why would I? I was reveling in the knowledge of you three looking on in jealousy and anger at the affection father is so easily giving me. I would be foolish to interrupt the live entertainment."
Jason steps forward and glares down at Damian, "Is that all you see us as is entertainment? We've been here longer than you and you mosey your way on in here and disrespect us by bathing in our father's bathtub and eating our food?"
Damian acknowledges the comment with a sneer, "You all are a circus-" green eyes look over at Richard in amusement-"Though I suppose one of you is used to playing the clown, isn't that right? And as for bathing in his tub and eating the food, your arguments are becoming quite childish and petty, do you not think so? Though If we were to argue that point: I am the blood son, all this will belong to me one day and therefore whatever is my father's is mine. And if you dare fuck this chance up for me to be with the man I've heard stories about since my birth...well, I suppose I'll have to make your life a living hell."
Richard narrows his eyes at the violent curl of Damian's lips and the fire in his eyes. Cursing the boy for how cute he looks when he leans over the tub and looks up at the three of them with wide eyes and a suddenly sweet smile. "And what competition truly is there when I am sitting right here?" Damian flutters his lashes and puffs out his cheeks cutely, "Now get out of my presence before I have to deal with you three myself. And believe you me, you do not want me getting out of this bathtub."
Jason mocks Damian and rolls his eyes, "You do not want me getting out of this bath tub". We aren't scared of you ya little jackass! We have faced worse than an angry, spiteful little gremlin taking a bubble bath. It'll be like dealing with a wet, pathetic looking cat."
Richard looks up in thought before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, Jay...wet cats are particularly feisty." Jason elbows the other in his side for the comment, the two starting to argue until the sound of Bruce's footsteps is heard coming near the bathroom. The three send a small glare Damian's way before slipping away to hide just as Bruce pushes the door open.
Damian gives a genuinely happy smile at seeing his father with a vast selection of rubber ducks in his arms. The man quickly dumping the toys in the water and softly apologizing for taking so long, "I'm glad that the tub has a 'keep warm' feature or else you would have been sitting in cold water this whole time."
Damian starts to arrange all the ducks in the water while Bruce reaches up to grab his shampoo, the cap popping open before the man pauses and makes a small noise. "I forgot to ask if you wanted me to use a different product? I can go-" Bruce is pulled back down by a small, wet hand on his arm, turning his head to see his son looking delighted at the thought of using his very own shampoo. "It's fine! I would be honored to smell like you, father! You smell really good."
Bruce settles back down with a smile and squirts out some of the product into his hands while lathering it up. "So how did it go?"
Damian's satisfied little sigh at the gentle hands cleaning his scalp is replaced with a confused hum at the question. "How did what go, father?" Bruce chuckles from behind Damian and continues his work, "The talk with your brothers, you know, the three boys who have decided to hide away in my bathroom. How did it go?"
Damian opens his eyes and cranes his head back to look up into the fondly amused gaze of his father. The man looks down at Damian with a smirk and waits patiently for his other three children to reveal themselves, his smile growing wider at Richard's sigh coming from the bathroom closet and Jason's curses coming from above him. Bruce dips one of his hands in the bathwater to wash it off before reaching over to the sink cabinets and knocking on it thrice.
"I know you're in there, Timmy."
Bruce waits patiently and chuckles at seeing Tim poke his head out from the cabinet with a nervous look in his eyes and frown on his lips. Bruce doesn't mind sitting in the silence as he turns back to finish washing Damian's hair, he can practically hear his childrens worried thoughts wondering about if they are in any trouble-and he just finds that amusing.
Of course, it is Richard that speaks up first, "We just wanted to come check up on him. Make sure he didn't drown in the bathtub since he's so small." Bruce tilts Damian's head back as the boy turned to look at the guilty faces of his siblings and rinses the boy's hair out. Turning to raise a brow at his eldest child as he does so, "He is almost the same size as Jason when I first took him in. Mind you, Jason was perfectly fine when sitting in this same tub."
Damian's eyes widen and he pulls away from his father's hands to point accusingly at the nineteen-year-old. "You got to use this same bathtub!? Why are you mad at me for using it!?" Bruce's brows pinch together and he turns to look at Jason now instead. "You got mad at him for using my tub?"
Damian tugs at Bruce's arm with a fierce nod, "And he threatened me! He and Timothy said they were going to drown me in my own bathwater." Icy blue eyes widen slightly before giving the two teens a disciplinary glare, "Did you threaten to drown your baby brother?" The avoidance of making eye contact from Tim and Jason defensively crossing his arms tells Bruce all he needs to know.
Bruce makes an offended noise and places his hands on his hips while sighing tiredly. "Why would you say that to him? Alfred told me you three were getting along in the cave earlier...were you lying to him when he came down there?"
Richard wants to desperately defend himself from any of these accusations, but he knows Bruce wouldn't believe him if he said that Alfred was just as much into this whole debate as they are. "We weren't lying! It was only a little brotherly teasing, B, we swear it!" Richard shouts and looks desperately at his three youngest brothers in hope that they'll suck up their pride, play along, and make nice with each other to ease their father's worries.
But the evil gleam in Damian's large, green eyes tells the eldest Wayne child otherwise, the baby of the family is set on a righteous vengeance as he wobbles his lower lip and-somehow-reddens his chubby cheeks while leaning over the edge of the tub once again. "Richard is lying, father! He didn't even try to stop them from saying such despicable things! He just sat and watched as Todd and Drake threatened me...do they really not want me here?" Damian murmurs sadly, avoiding eye contact while he dredges up fake tears.
Bruce's glare gets even more intimidating while he looks on disappointedly at his eldest three sons. His sharp gaze returning back to Richard after he finishes thoroughly glaring at the younger two.
"I know Tim and Jason are in control of their own actions...but is this true, Richard? Did you just watch as your other two brothers picked on the baby?" Bruce clicks his tongue in disappointment at the stuttering from Richard and the guilty looks of Jason and Tim and points to the bathroom door with a frown.
"You three wash up. Jason, Tim, you both go to your rooms. I expect apologies from all three of you in the morning."
Jason scoffs and crosses his arms, "Like hell I'm apologizing to the little r-" he trails off at THE LOOK™ Bruce is giving him and looks away, trying a different tactic instead. "I'm nineteen...I don't need to listen to you anymore."
Jason ignores Tim muttering about how he never listens at Bruce pulling the disappointed dad arm cross. "You are absolutely right, Jason Peter. You don't have to listen to me, but you are living in my house, you eat up the food I by with my money and you have yet to move out. And while I provide all those things because I love you dearly, as long as you choose to live under my roof, what does that mean for your nineteen-year-old behind?"
Jason crosses his arms and pouts frowns, "It means I'll wash up and go to my room." The teen gives one last glare to Damian before angrily stomping out of Bruce's room, Tim whispering an apology with wet eyes before exiting the room as well.
Richard feels upset as well, but mainly at himself, isn't he supposed to be the mature one? Where did those times go? The eldest says his good night's before rushing out of Bruce's room and heading to his own only to see Jason and Tim sulking in his bed. Richard sighs before settling on the edge and ruffling the two messy heads, "I thought Bruce told us to wash up and head to bed."
The younger two can hear the unasked question: "why are you two sitting here instead?" Tim answers with a whine and looks up pitifully at the man, "We've done it now! Bruce will never forgive us! Our mistakes are too much and we will surely be sent to live in an orphanage or home for troubled youths..."
Jason glares up at the ceiling but pushes his head farther into the eldest's gentle head pats. "Me and D are too old for the orphanage-"
Tim wails louder in distress, "I'm being separated from more of my only family!? That orphanage system will eat me alive! I don't wanna go!" Jason sits up and leans on his elbows to look down at Tim in genuine confusion and a bit of concern. "Timmers...do you really think you'll be leaving the Manor for some shitty government system? Bruce would rather date the Joker before giving any of us up, now shut up and let me finish! I was also going to say that D doesn't have to go to his room."
Tim lets out a confused noise at the feeling of a large hand replacing Richard's on his head to quickly ruffle his hair affectionately before pushing his face away.
The eldest smiles at the scene before frowning at Jason's comment, "What do you mean? Dad told us to wash up and head to our rooms." Jason shakes his head and gestures to himself and Tim, "Wrong. Dad said the THREE of us had to wash up and me and Tim head to our rooms. I guess because I'm not actually twenty I still get room treatment."
Richard thinks about it for a second before smiling sheepishly, "Well...with the look he was giving, he mind as well have been talking about me too. There's no way I wasn't about to not come into my room as a precaution." Jason sighs loudly and ignores how Tim has sought comfort in his side, the eldest notices Tim doing so and softly sighs. "It's just the anxiety talking, bud. B isn't going to send us away...why don't you go get your clothes and wash up in my bathroom? Then we can have a looong hugging session."
At the words "long", "hugging", and "session." Jason attempts to roll out of the bed but is held down by Richard and immediately smothered in hugs, the second eldest loudly curses and fights while Tim starts laughing at them and jumps on top of Richard.
The sweet moment is ruined by the creek of the door opening and Alfred walking in with Jason and Tim's clothing. "You three better wash up quickly and stop soiling my sheets with your food stained bodies. And you, Jason and Tim, better head to your rooms right after you bathe here or else I'll be telling your father." Tim clears his throat and sits up straight, looking at Alfred curiously.
"What's B doing with Damian now?"
Alfred hands the clothes over to the two teens and smiles at the three with an oddly joyful look in his eyes. "I believe young Master Damian has gained a couple more points as he has used Master Bruce to physically get rid of you three. He is now wearing one of your father's too large for him shirts as we speak and he is sleeping in Master Bruce's bed for the night."
Alfred turns to leave the room and pauses at the doorway, turning around with an impish look that matches Damian's face all too well. "Oh yes, and he told me to tell you three that when you sleep tonight, you better be dreaming of his success-" his face returns back to something stoic as he slowly closes the door with a professional-"Have a good night, young sirs." Jason punches at Richard's pillow angrily when the door clicks shut while Tim huffs and flops back onto the bed.
Richard just groans and buries his face in his hands, wondering to himself where this all went wrong.
(Richard is really out here acting like that kid that gets an A+ all the time and then gets one bad review on Yelp one A- and has a meltdown over it. That is the representation of how he felt at Bruce scolding him. 😂
Also, I know nineteen isn't really an age where anyone gets sent to their room...but let Bruce be a dad! And I wasn't going to swap ages around suddenly for it lol, I do hope everyone can ignore that sksksk. And poor Tim becoming anxious over Bruce getting mad, poor lad will probably be up all night like 🌘👄 🌒 at the thought of Bruce sending him away.
Basically the summary of this pt is:
Richard: 😡🌝(<- his scheming face)😅😱😞😓🥺😢
Jason: 😡💯🔥😡🤬🤬🤬🤬😒(<- at Damian)😔(<- when Bruce scolds him)🤬😡🤬😡🤬😡
Tim: 😒😡🥲😔🥺😓😞🌘👄🌒😭😕🙁☹️😨😰(<- the last five is him thinking about being sent away)
As usual, if anyone manages to see and like/reblog this, you are much appreciated! You lovelies please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)
#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#bruce wayne#bruce loves his kids#bruce wayne is a good dad#alfred pennyworth#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#humor#fluff and humor#damian wayne is cute#gremlin damian wayne#gremlin dick grayson#gremlin jason todd#gremlin tim drake#alfred (sophisticated gremlin) pennyworth#crack fic#crack treated seriously#tired dad bruce wayne
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[Bake Bread] 2/2
Minecraft Single Player! Yuu AU
Summary: Yuu baked(?) bread for Azul.
Part 1/2
Yuu nods to Azul's request, standing up and doing their really odd 120 degree angle bend and pin straight arm swing gesture that Azul assumes to mean "Follow me."
So, Azul sets down one of half of the bread, opting to carry one in his hand as he walks with Yuu through the hallways of Ramshackle. To say that it has been refurbished is an understatement, as the windows and rotting wood in some areas have been completely replaced with a new and stronger material.
Though, he can't find himself too pleased at the overall.. aesthetic, of the refurbishing. It is almost comically obvious where Housewarden Yuu has done the repairs as seen with the insanely precise blocks that are somehow not making the weaker wood below it collapse. The 1 x 1ft cubes of wood make Azul put unnecessary thought into the laws of magic and physics that should have been applied here in order to make this phenomena happen.
Following Yuu taking a left, Azul stands at the doorway to.. Yuu's room?
"You bake in your room?"
The Housewarden turns around to face Azul, facial expression and square pupils never wavering. ("Yuurmom is very amusing, don't you know Azul-shi? We frequently have staring competitions, but I've yet to win a single one as they only blink around 3-4 times a day. I hope to play with Yuurmom more." "Enough with your nonsense and get back to work.")
There is a moment of silence between him and Housewarden Yuu as they look at him. Azul remembers the Dark Mirror's evaluation of them, solid and unyielding, however he seems to have underestimated how much that applies physically. Humans and humanoids have overlapping body language. Thorough analysis of these features and wielding its power makes almost anyone predictable, it allows understanding, empathy, and control.
The body that stands before Azul is still. The shifts of weight from one foot to another to fill uncomfortable silence is not heard, the unconscious fidgets of eyes and hands do not occur, the subtle rise and fall of the chest cannot be visibly observed, yet the gaze of the person in front of him carries a weight that should not exist in an entity as still as furniture.
Azul continues smiling, and he continues to gaze back at Yuu.
"Why bake in room?"
Azul blinks.
Right. Who would bake bread in a room that clearly lacks an oven? Only an uneducated small fish would think such an outlandish thing. Surely, Azul Ashengrotto should have been able to expect any curveball that comes in his way, the bizarre and unpredictable hold no candle to his intellect and benevolence!
"I'm always happy to accompany you, but I fear I might be overstepping a metaphorical and literal boundary. I do not dare enter someone's room uninvited, such areas are a personal space after all. Say, are looking for anything in particular? I could help."
(Translation: "Why are we at your room?")
Yuu swings their arm in the direction of the strange 3 x 3ft wood(?) block seated next to the small tall table. The stark contrast between the ornately carved legs and the sharply angled cube makes the latter appear more and more erroneous.
"Make bread there."
A minor jog and skip across the room to the cube, Yuu fully utilizes their hip joints and does what Azul can only describe as an impossibly fast 120 degree in-and-out motion. According to Jade, this is one of the few body gestures Yuu ("Yuurmom, Azul-shi.") actually partakes in that means, in this context, "Come here."
Despite Yuu answering his question, Azul feels extremely dissatisfied at the lack of certain answers he's getting and the progression of this interaction. The intention was to get on friendlier terms with Housewarden Yuu, but there is hardly a feature he can identify on them to confirm that this is going the way he wants.
However, only weaker beings would give up at this point. If there is no inherent danger or threat, keep going. Azul obliges, and walks over to where Yuu is standing.
Azul notes that in Yuu is now holding 3 of the little slabs of pixelated wheat. The wheat that Azul has been vying for. The sought after wheat, the one that does not expire and would do amazingly for Mostro Lounge's retail cost cuts. The crop he had Jade do a lab analysis of to confirm its quality not to be stunted by its jarringly fast growth rate. That wheat.
His brain fills in what it thinks is about to happen, and it plagues his mind like a swarm of ants to forbidden nectar. The worst kind of food for thought, really. "3 wheat makes 1 bread", Yuu said. They stand at this cubic monolith that looks nothing like an oven. Yuu carries 3 wheat. For all the generosity the Sea Witch can provide, Azul pleads the Sevens for the mercy of having his reality not be shattered.
----------------------------------------------
"Heyyy. Kobanzame."
Ruggie heftily flaps his hands, water droplets shaken off onto the floor and in the industrial 3 compartment kitchen sink.
"What do you want, Floyd?"
"Play Ball!"
The hyena finds himself knocked down to the water droplet-stained floor with a brick-like object hitting him square in the face, the evil no-good pitched object landing in his lap after the fall.
"Agh- FUCK! What the hell is your issu.."
There's hardly room for Ruggie to spit something scathing as he stares at the familiar sight of pixelated bread in his lap. As much as he did want to eat Yuu's gifts, he kept those expiration-free breads in a safe pantry in case of an unexpected campus emergency and for when he goes home.
"Where did you get this from?"
Ruggie pockets the bread as quickly as it clocked him in the face prior, and Floyd seats himself on the island counter, gnawing at one of the breads still in its pixelated form.
"'zul haf a bafkut o' 'em in offish. Moin 'ow." (Translation: "Azul had a basket of them in office. Mine now.")
Floyd gives a particularly harsh bite to the bread, the pixelated form no longer apparent. The scent of warm yeast fills the room, and the bread ceases to the teeth chowing down on it. A frown twists itself onto Floyd's face, and he grumpily chews on the remainder of the bread in his mouth.
"Why can't this stupid bread just have one form?"
In the back of Mostro Lounge, Azul sits in his office sipping from a lemon tea. Lemon tea.. Do lemons even exist there? Juice?
"Azul-shi, the Mushroom Citrus Salmon has been doing splendidly. With warmer weather coming, customers are seeking for more refreshing and sharper flavors to cut the heat. Though, we're going to need more lemons to handle the popularity of the item."
".. Uh huh."
"Wonderful to hear. I'll mock-up last week's sales."
As Jade turns the doorknob to exit, he pauses. Instead of leaving, he walks up to Azul's desk, leaning an arm onto the hardwood and gesturing to the basket of slightly ransacked pixelated bread.
"Do you mind if I take one?"
Azul is despondent, gaze hidden behind the reflection of his glasses as he idly stirs at the lemon tea he takes occasional sips of. Jade takes his silence as a "Yes" and takes one of the breads, gleefully skipping his way to the door and exiting the office.
He's plenty happy with all the amusing events happening around him, though he wonders how long Azul is going to stay like that.
#disney twst#mcsingleplayer yuu au#twst yuu#azul twisted wonderland#azul ashengrotto#azul twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst au#twst wonderland
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Based on the shows history with Eddie, I’m not expecting the Abuela and Shannon pop ups to do anything more then propel him into the find new wife for himself and new mother for Chris mission successful. Especially with Edy still on set and them almost being done with the season. Why bother going for a better story when a lazy makes no sense hetero story will do just fine. It’s their specialty when it comes to Eddie after all. Plus They already got that extra queer rep with Buck and Tommy 🙃
Yeah, *sigh* I feel the same on the Eddie front.
God forbid the talent that is Ryan will get a worthy story when we get two white dudes getting the interesting storylines.
I mean, much as love Buck being thrown into curious situations, I am getting tired of the storylines Eddie keep getting, because that's always more of the same, and that's exhausting.
If they weren't going to invest in his story they could have tied him to the first gf he had - being the serial monogamist that he is - and have his storyline revolve around domestic problems, new babies and managing that with work - at least we'd be clear of what his essence is aside from loving Buck like they've been married and intimate for years.
They had that queer rep with Henren and David and Michael - which WAS a great rep and such a well written relationship! I miss them and Michael's interactions with Bobby are sorely missing as well.
I don't think that Buck's storyline is as happy and healthy as ppl make it to be, Tommy literally left him for feeling uncomfortable and fibbing in front of his best friend because he's newly minted out of the closet and maybe he wanted to figure this out by himself first before sharing it with the people closest to him?
Tommy had no right to get upset, and if he wasn't sure of them, he shouldn't have agreed to go to that wedding with Buck, he should have said that he understands where Buck is coming from and to take this slow and that there is no pressure - and maybe keep this friendly until they figure out what they want to be together.
Buck, it felt to me, that has done what he did, the chasing that he said he wouldn't do, because in a certain way he is still in a place where he pleases people even though it is his journey to make and no one should push him to get to that finish line as fast as possible.
Like I said before this is more of the same, Buck does this chasing because like Taylor said, and not in a kind way mind you, that he can't stand not being liked by everyone.
Eddie nudging him to call tommy wasn't exactly the best thing either, because would Buck have still done it if he wasn't told to?
A lot of things don't sit well with me in this story, I've made journeys with my friends when they first came out, one as early as the seventh grade, it is not something that becomes normal immediately, I also saw after the fact what happened when one is shoved out of the closet to his family and friends by force. And how my best friend still bears the guilt of being gay almost 20+years later because that's not how he was raised, and his father didn't accept him, and his first serious boyfriend was a demanding asshole.
He didn't seem like this to us, he was friendly and seemed like a really good guy, but neither one of us knew what really happened there until my friend opened up about it years later.
So when I say Buck's story feels rushed, I talk from experience.
So maybe we have queer rep (which we had before only it wasn't bi) but it doesn't feel like quite there to me, maybe it's the flawed writing, maybe that's the way it was intended to be told to get to some kind of turning point and epiphanies, who knows? I've learned not to expect higher purpose from this show.
I will tell you that though, if the whole Eddie story is to push him to somehow marry M I will retire from this show, I mean that is the laziest form of writing there is, and makes this show completely unwatchable for me, because there is no way we were dragged 7 seasons just so that Eddie can force marry some lukewarm LI out of the need to follow the traditional hetero normative need he was raised into.
Especially since originally Eddie was the one who was supposed to be the coming out story, it would be disappointing on so many levels and I'm not even touching buddie here.
Ryan deserves better than to end with that kind of crappy story-telling.
#911 ask#911 spoilers#911 speculation#evan buckley#eddie diaz#flawed writing#lukewarm relationships#so done with those#buddie#not anti bucktommy but not pro so far either#it doesn't feel healthy
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