#if this post blows up this is gonna go on my wall of 'posts that i thought of on the toilet that got way more popular than I expected'
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Tropical Milkweed, Its Problems, and What To Plant Instead
I am writing this to atone for the sins of my past (handing out tropical milkweed cuttings to my friends and teachers before I knew better).
(Also let me make this clear I am Floridian I am writing this from the perspective of someone in the United States if you live in Tropical Milkweed's native range this doesn't apply to you go forth pogchamp)
Look online, on TV, in books, in newspapers, left, right, up, down, anywhere, and you'll see people talking about how planting milkweed is crucial, essential for the survival of monarch butterflies. Milkweed is the only plant that monarch caterpillars can eat as they're growing, and the loss of it in our wild spaces is one of the most direct links to the ecological extinction speedrun of not just monarchs, but dozens of other insects who rely on its abundance of nectar-filled flowers to survive. You'll be urged to run, not walk, to your nearest garden center, buy as much milkweed as you can, and hurry fast to plant it in your gardens and be part of the solution, not the problem. The issue is that, oftentimes, the milkweed you leave the store with is a vibrant red and orange, with pointed green leaves, dozens like it lining the shelves across stores all over the nation...
Tropical milkweed. Scarlet milkweed. Bloodflower. Mexican butterfly weed. Asclepias curassavica. This plant is a being of many names, and our culprit of the hour.
'Culprit? Culprit of what?' Culprit of enticing people to buy it under the guise of helping, only to possibly cause more harm than good.
Let's discuss.
Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) is a gorgeous milkweed (especially the yellow variety? ooh, that had me in a grip as a teen) that's easy to obtain--too easy. It lines the shelves of stores like Walmart, Lowe's, Home Depot, and even hundreds and dozens of smaller garden stores, and is sold for reasonably cheap because its quick and easy to grow from seed and eagerly roots from cuttings. It's extremely popular with butterflies too--in many scenarios, Tropical Milkweed will be preferred as host plants over other related species like Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), and its also popular with other species of butterfly, bees, and wasps as a nectar source. It lasts well into winter in some areas of the United States, is quick to regrow when cut back, and doesn't die back for periods of the season like some other milkweeds do. It's eager to reseed, creating capsules with tens of dozens of seeds and scattering across the winds with the help of little silky parachutes much like the ones dandelions are known for.
'Ani, what's the problem with that? This all sounds like its great for monarchs!'
See, here's the kickers. In fact, here's several kickers. Here's an entire mollywhopping of kickers.
OE Infections
In the temperate areas that it doesn't die back over winter (or even, in some cases, where it doesn't die back during the season like other milkweeds), it can become a host for OE. OE is short for Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, and its a protozoan parasite that can and frequently does infect monarchs. As infected monarchs visit different plants--whether its to drink nectar, to lay eggs, or even just doing a fly-by of the garden--they drop spores from their wings that can then fall onto the leaves, flowers, and even any eggs already on the plant. As caterpillars hatch and begin to eat the plant, they ingest the protozoan, which begins the cycle anew. High OE levels in adult monarchs have been linked to lower migration success, reductions in body mass, lifespan, mating success, and flight ability. And that's if the caterpillars don't succumb prematurely to the infection, or if they're able to even exit their cocoon and fly once they finish pupating--deformed wings are frequently a result after infections. Now, OE is a parasite that's evolved alongside monarchs--and monarchs are usually able to handle an infection just fine, but if they're carrying a high load? That's where the problem lies.
What role does tropical milkweed play in this? Most milkweeds die back after blooming, at least once or even twice per season--and the parasite dies alongside them. As native milkweeds push out fresh foliage, its parasite-free, offering a healthy new buffet for caterpillars. Tropical milkweed... doesn't do that. If nothing's done, (at least in my state of Florida) tropical milkweed will stay fresh and green all the way up until the first real frost hits way in December--and that's if there's a hard frost, when you travel farther south. And during all that time, OE levels are building up on the leaves, so any future caterpillars that feed on this plant are doomed the instant their egg is laid on a leaf.
Its not that it's utterly impossible for a monarch to get infected with OE on any other kind of milkweed--monarchs are known for their traveling habits, and the chances of them happening upon a different milkweed plant than the tropical milkweed in your backyard is pretty high. But whereas native milkweeds die back and essentially reboot their system with fresh, disease-free leaves at least once a season, tropical milkweeds are like downloading a virus onto a USB and then passing it to your friends.
But that's not all, either. Time for kick 2.
Migration Interruption
Sit with me a moment and imagine you're a monarch butterfly. You're hardwired to know that as your food source starts dwindling at home, its time to get a move on and fly on down to the family's vacation home in Mexico for the winter. The buffets shut down, you exit stage left. But on your way to what's essentially a season-long smorgasbord with friends, you find... a buffet is still open. You're supposed to leave when the buffets are shutting down, but this one's up and running, lights are on, and plenty of people are there having fun, so you step in to relax. You'll take your trip later.
Now imagine a bit after you entered that buffet, the staff stuffed the guests into the walk-in freezer, locked the door, turned off all the lights, locked up the building, and left.
That's basically what tropical milkweed being 'evergreen' is doing to monarch butterflies in the fall and winter seasons. In areas up north where it can stay growing far later into the fall/winter months--or worse, in the south, where it can basically be evergreen until a hard frost (if one even happens), it can interrupt the monarchs' iconic migration cycle. They'll stay in place and continue breeding, living life like they aren't supposed to be a country away--until a frost hits, and they're dead in a snap. And if there's not a frost, you're getting a bunch of OE spore-ridden monarchs flying around a bunch of OE spore-ridden milkweed plants that the butterflies who followed the rules and overwintered in Mexico are gonna be returning to. POV you're starting a family in a house so laden with asbestos and black mold that there's practically black dust floating around.
This is already pretty bad. Can it get worse? Absolutely. Kick number 3.
It's Pretty Invasive (in the US)
It's fast growing, its eager to go to seed (so eager that it can flower and produce seed at the same time), its growing all throughout winter--which would be great, if it were native to the United States. Unfortunately, it isn't! As one could imply from the name, Mexican butterfly weed is native to--well--Mexico, as well as the Caribbean, South America, and Central America.
Further North into the states, and it's more of an annual--a plant that lasts maybe a year tops, dies back permanently, and you go buy more next year, or start from seed. Further south? It's a perennial, baby--which means its got even more time to spread its seeds and really thrive in the warmer climates of places like Florida, Texas, California, etc. Not to mention, as climate change makes temperatures rise, places where tropical milkweed is an annual may quickly begin seeing it stand strong all year...
I won't pretend to be a Professional Milkweed Identifier. I'm getting better at it with time, but I'm not a pro. But most of the time I go outside and I go 'oh, that's a milkweed!' its tropical milkweed. I've seen it grow in the sidewalk cracks of a gardening store I go to--its a clean four feet tall, always flowering, always making seeds. Tropical Milkweed is eager to escape the confines of your backyard, or make more plants in your backyard--I started with 5 plants one year, and the next year I had seven, then twelve, and that's just the ones that didn't get mowed over in the seedling stage...
But wait, that's not all! Kick number 4, baby!
Toxic to Monarchs????
According to the Xerces Foundation, emerging research suggests that tropical milkweed may become toxic to monarch caterpillars when exposed to the warmer temperatures associated with climate change.
'What the fuck, I thought milkweed was good for monarchs! How the hell does that happen?!'
All milkweeds produce cardenolides in their sap--a type of steroid that are toxic to most insects (and even people). Milkweeds create it to repel herbivores that would munch on it otherwise--except for milkweed butterflies (Danainae family), like our legendary monarch, as well as the queen and plain tiger butterfly. Larvae eat up milkweed leaves like there's no tomorrow, to stock up on those cardenolides and become toxic to their vertebrate predators--except for a few species that have evolved to become cardenolide-tolerant (black-backed orioles and black-headed grosbeaks). But, when cardenolide concentrations are high enough, it's too strong for even monarch butterflies to withstand--they die because of the very plant that's supposed to give them life. Kinda fucked up. Comparatively, many native species have lower cardenolide levels--and don't immediately go into flux at higher temps like tropical milkweed does.
'Wait, Ani, if there's all these problems with tropical milkweed, why is it sold everywhere?'
Capitalism. The answer is capitalism.
Well, actually, its a bit more complicated than that but it's also still capitalism.
The very same things that make tropical milkweed so invasive and such an issue are what make it so incredibly popular to sell. It's fast growing, and eagerly starts from cuttings as well as from seeds--which is perfect for growing tons of plants in quick and easy batches to send to vendors all over and get a quick profit. It's easy to grow from the home gardener too--its resistant to most diseases, looks gorgeous almost year-round, is quick to return in many areas without even the slightest sign of a die-back, and is popular with monarchs and other pollinators. Want to start a pollinator garden with quick results? Plant milkweed--and when tropical milkweed is all that you see available when you walk into your beloved store, it's what most people are going to get without thinking twice. Not to mention, when you hear it starts quick from cuttings, and you really wanna get your friends and loved ones into pollinator gardening, well... you get well-meaning people sharing invasive plants with their homies, like I did in high school. I've been pollinator gardening for around sixish-sevenish years (I think) and I didn't even catch wind that tropical milkweed was invasive until three years in! To say I was mortified doesn't describe it fully.
'Wait, three years ago? So information about this has been out awhile! Why aren't more places selling native milkweeds by now?! Why are people still buying this invasive milkweed and not native ones?!'
It's capitalism again! But in a different way.
Compared to tropical milkweed, many other milkweeds are a lot more... finnicky to get started, or grow in general. Many of them are a lot slower to germinate, are more prone to failing as seedlings and falling victim to things like 'dampening off' or 'too many aphid' or 'the vibes were wrong.' If they do germinate, they're slower to get to size too--I've grown tropical milkweed from seed in solo cups and gotten something about four inches tall within maybe a month and a half. Some other milkweeds I've grown from seed take about a month and a half to get more than four leaves, or even poke their little green heads out of the dirt. In addition to this, milkweeds have taproots--and some are a lot more friendly to the concept of 'transplanting from a pot to the ground' or 'growing in a pot at all' than others, and tropical milkweed ranks at the top of that list again. Not to mention, their willingness and ability to overwinter in pots--many native milkweeds fail that test, meaning that even if all the resources and efforts are put into getting a milkweed to grow from seed, it won't survive longer than a year in that pot. Considering most milkweeds don't flower until a year or so into their growth, and it's easier to sell plants that are flowering... many plants are a tough sell.
Another reason? Some native milkweeds are way more picky about when they want to make seed pods, or what conditions their seeds want to be grown in. If the seeds are hard to obtain? Good luck growing them in a production greenhouse. Let alone finding seeds for sale to grow them yourself at home--in my hunt for native milkweed species, I've seen packets of ten seeds sold for twenty bucks, packets of 25 seeds sold for anywhere from 50 to 100--meanwhile, you can find dozens if not hundreds of tropical milkweed seeds sold in a pack for maybe a dollar or five.
Let's be real. Producers haven't figured out the magic ticket to pumping out native milkweeds like they have with tropical milkweed--as such, finding native milkweeds for sale is rare, and they're often pricier. And as someone who's been to a native plant sale and found the stands sold out of milkweeds not even 30 minutes into the event--you are likely not the only person wanting native milkweeds. It is war out there in the garden parties.
And that's assuming you've actually found native milkweed for sale! As you get better with milkweed IDs, you'll be able to clearly identify the liars who are telling you they've got something that they don't, but for those who aren't In The Know--if you see a milkweed labeled like a native milkweed and want to buy native milkweed, it might be too late by the time you realize you just got sold tropical milkweed with a mislabel. Whether its on accident or on purpose, it still bites.
I've asked some of my favorite, smaller greenhouses if they'd be willing to start selling native milkweeds. Most of the time I get an exasperated 'I would love to.' But they can only sell what the vendors can produce--so if they can't find a vendor that's selling swamp milkweed (or at least reliably), then they can't give me swamp milkweed when I poke my head in asking if they have any in stock. Of all the times I've gone to dozens of different green houses and gardening events, in different cities even, to see if they have any native milkweeds I've only had success a few times--one small vendor who only has them in stock at events sometimes (and that's if I don't show up late), and the one time I rolled into a not-big-box-but-not-small gardening store near my friends house after being sad that I couldn't find it at a different gardening event. And the one I found there was the last one they had in stock for the next month or two. Until The Vendors get better at growing native milkweeds, your best bet is going to be growing it from seed yourself, getting a start from a friend, or dumb luck at smaller nurseries and events. It's rough out here, friends.
Granted! Keep in mind! That whole last paragraph was personal anecdotes. It's entirely possible that other places' greenhouses have already caught on, and I'm simply in the shadowlands where nobody's selling native milkweeds except for once or twice a year and selling out within 20 minutes of opening their damn booth. And I've heard tell of people getting milkweed popping up willingly in their backyards by doing things as simple as not mowing. I pray you have better luck than I do, young Padawan.
Now, keep in mind, there are people actively working on this. Whether its a team of university scientists dedicating themselves to a project, or a few home-growers in a sunny backyard and a greenhouse doing their damn best to grow native milkweeds as efficiently as possible for themselves and their friends, there are people working on this, sharing advice and communicating online. This isn't some unresolved issue that no one has noticed. We just... aren't at the end post yet. Until then, we scrounge for what we can.
'Oh no, oh god, I have a bunch of tropical milkweed plants in my garden!! Am I a bad person?!?!'
No You Are Not A Bad Person For Growing Tropical Milkweed
And I'm perfectly honest about that. Because I'm here telling you this and I've still got tropical milkweed plants in my backyard. As that one comic once said, about 10,000 people learn something new every day, and unfortunately today that 'new thing' is a bit sad and a bit untimely. In full honesty, oftentimes in my brain I refer to Tropical Milkweed as Starter Milkweed--its what a lot of pollinator gardeners end up starting with, because its just so available! But! There are things that you can do to mitigate the Damage that tropical milkweed can bring to your backyard butterflies.
Step One: Cut back your milkweeds! At least once a year, maybe even twice a year if you want. This will force them to put out new growth, which will be free of OE spores and give monarchs on it a good head start against the Disease. But for sure, for sure, cut your milkweeds back in the fall--once October hits, I go into the backyard and I snip down everything that's tropical milkweed. Usually at this point (at least for me), the milkweeds don't try to grow back again until spring. This is to prevent monarchs from seeing a buffet and getting locked in the freezer.
Step Two: Cut back seed pods! You would not believe how many seed pods milkweed makes. You see those little green footballs? You wanna snip these back ASAP. Even if they're tiny, but especially if they're bit. In peak flower production times, I'll go out there at least once a week and just do a look-back and cut them off. You can even yoink them off with your hands if you're in a rush--just don't get that sap into your eyes. If you do this, you're stopping seed production in its tracks--and don't forget, these plants want nothing more than to split those pods open and unleash a hellfire of flying seeds all over the place. They'll float on air, they'll float on water, they'll do whatever until they land on a prime patch of soil and get started.
If you see these you're a tinge too late. But also still yoink that off and Dispose of it.
Step 3: Don't give cuttings to your friends. It's tempting. If you're raising caterpillars in a little enclosure and see that every time you refresh your cuttings, the old ones have tons of roots and are ready for a little pot of soil and a name tag? Don't. Resist the best you can. Dispose of your cuttings whenever you go in for a trim.
Step 4: Consider replacing them with something else! I know I already went off about just how hard it was to find native milkweeds for sale, how expensive and difficult they can be to grow--but they're not impossible to grow, and putting in the effort could be worth it! Even as I speak, I'm trying to add as many native milkweeds to my garden as possible--and when I've got something that grows reliably in my backyard, I will eagerly rip up my aging tropical milkweed plants and promptly toss them in the bin so i can put a new, better milkweed in its place. Native milkweeds are more likely to be suited to your environment, making it easier to maintain and more welcoming to the pollinators we gardeners want to help. Not to mention, a lot of them are way pettier than tropical milkweed (in my opinion). Do some hunting online to see what's native to your area--your state's extensions office will likely be great for this! You've likely got great variety--the state of Florida has 21 native milkweeds! Who knows how many your state has! (Not me, I am Floridian, and I am already getting dizzy trying to learn about all 21 of our milkweeds).
Conclusion!
Anyone who knows me knows I'm not gonna be the one to discourage someone from starting a garden, especially a pollinator gardener, and especially growing milkweed. But avoid tropical milkweed when you can--the harms it can cause far outweigh the quick satisfaction of a busy garden it can bring. Take some time to select a native plant more suited to your area, give it some friends and some time, and soon you'll have an amazing pollinator garden that'll be teeming with life!
#milkweed#tropical milkweed#asclepias curassavica#asclepias#outdoor gardening#succulents#bloodflower#pollinator garden#pollinator gardening#monarch butterfly#ani rambles#out of queue#what was it three hours ago that I was declaring that I wasn't gonna write up a long research post again?#now here i am at 3:30 am ranting about milkweed with like a dozen sources#granted this is nowhere NEAR as long as the biodiversity saga was BUT STILL#i told myself i was gonna write today... i meant one of my novels NOT RANTING ABOUT MILKWEED#if this post blows up this is gonna go on my wall of 'posts that i thought of on the toilet that got way more popular than I expected'#there's not a lot of posts on that wall maybe 2 or 3 but its weird that its happened that many times already
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BORED N’ IGNORED w/Jujutsu Kaisean
( TW ) f!reader, explicit content, bored!Sukuna & Toji, Ignored!Gojo & Choso cunnilingus, thigh riding, blow job, humiliation, face fucking, fingering, reader snaps a pic of gojo and sends it to her friend, sub!Choso or is he just a pleasure dom…?
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso Kamo + Toji Fushiguro
authors note: I re-wrote this like 10 times so pls ignore any mistakes. also, me posting everyone but Geto on his birthday is criminal...
☾ CHOSO KAMO
“Haha! I got the kill! Finally,” You cheer. “Oh shit, someone's chasing me.” You move your controller, focused on getting yourself to safety, ignoring your boyfriend who's underneath your desk eating you out like a starved man.
Choso just wants to make you cum. He knows he's in the doghouse for what he did last night so he’s trying to make it up to you. He didn’t know you were going to treat him like some common whore though. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s eating you out on the cold hard floor. He wants to scream but he knows you’d be even more angry, so he makes it his mission to make you cum so hard you have no choice but to talk to him.
He sucks your clit harder, rubbing his fingers inside your gummy walls. You clench around them but show no sign on the outside that you’re about to cum. He knows his girl though. Knows you better than you know yourself. He smirks into your clit.
“Shit—oh fuck—they won’t get off my tail—oh my god!” You scream at the game, trying and failing to mask your pleasure. Choso adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you good you almost drop the controller on his head.
Choso picks up the pace, sucking on your clit so hard he’s scared he might leave a bruise—and finally, you acknowledge him.
“m’gonna cum! Choso!” you cry, reaching down to pull his hair as you cum all over his face.
☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA
“Look at me!” You cry, kissing up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth You go as deep as you can before gagging. You pull back up and suck on his tip. You look up at Sukuna who doesn’t even look affected, staring at the TV. You dig your nails into his thighs. He doesn't react.
“Kuna!” You scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look down at you. He stares at you with disinterest. “What?”
“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” You hiccup, sitting back on your knees and grabbing his cock. You squeeze it.
“You want my attention little one?” He grins down at you. You sniffle and nod, bending down to kiss the tick of his cock. He pats you head and you almost cry in relief.
“Oh, so damned touch starved—upset ‘ve been ignoring you? I apologize little one. I'll make it up to you.” He grabs your head with both hands, guiding you to his cock. You open your mouth and take him in again. He grunts, pushing you to the hilt even as you gag and try to pull yourself up. He lifts your head back up before slamming it down on his cock. You claw at his thighs. “Giving you all my attention now. Gonna face fuck you ‘til you don’t remember your fucking own name.”
☾ GOJO SATORU
Satoru holds onto your thighs as he pushes his leaky cock into you. He needed this so bad after the day he had. He didn’t even pay mind to what you were doing before throwing his clothes off and climbing onto the bed.
“Fuck—Feel good, Angel?” Gojo questions as he thrusts into you from his place above you. You don’t hear him though, too busy texting your friend about the latest drama that happened in your friend group.
“Angel, did you hear me?” Satoru moves his hands from your waist to your tits. He pinches hard. You grunt, the grip on your phone wavering. Satoru’s harsh thrusts distract you for a second before you come back to your senses and read your friend's text. ‘Why are you making so many spelling mistakes LOL?’ You grin, clicking the camera and turning it to Satoru who looks down at you half angry and half pussy drunk. You snap a blurry picture of his sweaty abs and V-line before clicking send. Your friend laughs.
“Angel,” Satoru whines grabbing your phone. “Stop treating me like some crapy dildo machine!” He holds the phone over his head with one hand, the other holding you down by the tummy.
“Toru! I was having an important conversation,” You moan, wrapping your legs around his hips, digging your heels into his ass. He grunts his heavy hand on your tummy moving to squeeze your side. “Please, baby? Just gotta send one more text then I'm all yours—promise.”
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO
You hold onto Toji’s bicep as you ride his thigh. You grind your pussy harder onto his leg, making sure your clit drags over the hard material of his pants. You moan and look down at the dark patch your slick is making.
“Can you quiet down princess? Need to finish this application and you're distracting me.” Toji says, erasing the sentence he knows is incomprehensible. You moan louder. Throwing your head back and arching your tits up in his face. He grunts, turning to the side to rewrite his response.
You huff, if he wants to play like that. "You better not ask me to get you off later today.” You grumble, moving your own hands up to twist and tug your nipples. Your legs tighten around his thick thigh. You feel yourself getting closer. You grind down harder, pussy clenching around nothing.
“Gonna cum! Ahh—feels so good, you feel s’good!” You slur, legs shaking as an orgasm washes over you. You slump down against Toji’s big chest. Toji’s face heats. He doesn't know whether to be pissed off or turned on that you just came all over his thigh like that. He grumbles something inaudible, bringing a hand down to grab a handful of your ass as he presses submit. “Oh, you’re fucking on princess.”
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk#smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#gojo smut#choso smut#choso x you#choso x reader#choso x y/n#choso kamo#jjk choso#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#geto smut#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#toji smut#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji x you
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you.
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction.
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly.
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says.
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze.
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit.
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement.
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge.
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore.
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?”
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm.��
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together.
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth.
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him.
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth.
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand.
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his.
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment.
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed.
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready. But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own.
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent.
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both.
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie.
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case.
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back.
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up.
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken.
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it.
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed.
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#ghost#ghost cod smut#cod ghost#cod mwf2#cod
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DON’T FORGET WHO’S TAKING YOU HOME (and in whose arms you’re gonna be).
pairing(s). kaeya, childe, ayato, kaveh, neuvillette x fem!reader
genre. fluff
wc. 200-400 for each character
an. AND SING WITH ME 🎤🎤 SO DARLING SAVE THE LAST DANCE FOR MEEE michael buble literally left no crumbs with this song i had to write about it omg + ALSO happy valentines day everyone !!! i may not have a valentine this year but im happy to post this for anybody feeling a little lonely today !! you are so so loved okay ?!!! come and collect a kiss from me before reading on 💋 MUAH have a lovely valentines day !!! <33
kaeya alberich
you’re really good at hiding, kaeya thinks to himself with a huff and a smile on his lips. searching all over the plaza for you was making him break a sweat in his navy blue tuxedo. with another turn around the corner he decides to remove his tuxedo jacket for the time being, folding it over his arm to carry instead.
“no, no, no klee! stop it! you can’t play with your things here, if you blow things up-”
“-master jean will put me in solitary confinement…”
oho, kaeya recognises these two voices very well. he finds it so hilarious that at the end, his feet lead him right to you! not even a single thought was processed as he turned the corner two seconds ago but here you are.
he hides behind the large potted plant, listening to the conversation you and the beloved spark knight share. he stays there until it becomes quiet between you two.
“kaeya, you peacock, i know it’s you.”
kaeya lets out a baffled noise, finally showing himself from behind the plant, offended by the ridiculous nickname you gave him. “snowflake, how dare you?”
“klee, don’t eavesdrop on people like this man when you grow older, yeah?” you point animatedly at your lover, who’s folding his arms and scoffing at you.
klee only giggles, nodding her head. “i gotta go find albedo now!” you watch as she skips off towards the plaza, waving goodbye.
you then turn towards your next problem that stands behind you. “i thought you were out dancing?”
“i was, but they’ll start playing the last dance soon and how can my last dance not be with you?” your lover walks towards you, pulling you closer by your waist with his free arm. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck, smiling softly at his intentions.
you hear an announcement echoing from the plaza before you can reply, and you figure it might have been mika because of how timid the voice sounded.
“good evening everyone, please bring all your friends and company over for the last dance of the night!”
“sounds like our queue.” you slide your arms off his shoulder to grab his hand, pulling him with you without warning.
“oh snowflake, hold on-” kaeya almost trips on air and the sounds of your laughter bounce off the concrete floor and walls as you drag him down the staircase leading to the plaza.
childe
you can never refuse ajax’s request for a dance, because he won’t take no for an answer. especially when it comes to dancing. your feet hurt so much. you’re so ready to just fall on top of your bed and go to sleep. but the only thing that keeps you wide awake, heart pumping and everything is the look on your lover's face.
his gaze usually has this inhumane and dull look to them, but you find that whenever he looks at you or when he participates in something he loves, his gaze finally twinkles. it works so miraculously too. like all of a sudden life was returned to him and he could see.
the smile on your lips grows when you think about this. you think it’s sweet how you’re one of the reasons that the life in his eyes returns.
ajax notices the tighter grip you hold on his forearm, making his lips curl in curiosity. “what’s going on in your head, baby?”
you zone in on the situation, you’re still dancing, and you shake your head in response. “nothing, ajax.” you want to keep your thoughts to yourself but when ajax smiles at you like that, with the most expectant look on his face, you can’t help yourself. “actually, i just thought about the dance.”
he twirls you around to the music before connecting arms with you again. “you just thought about the dance?” his brow quirks in amusement.
“no, no not like that,” you say with a sheepish chuckle before continuing, “i just thought that this number is the longest one so far.”
“well of course,” ajax responds with an eye smile. “it’s the last song.”
“it… is?” you look up at ajax while trying to fight the urge to look anywhere else.
if this is the last song… and you’re dancing with him… then that can only mean-
when the choreography allows ajax to pull you against his chest, he leans down so he can whisper in your ear, “you will be my final dance partner tonight.”
kamisato ayato
these few days at fontaine have been strumming the strings of your heart like a guitar—ayato has been spending so much time with you that you’re beginning to think of such ridiculous conclusions. his eyes that linger on your face, his hand that hovers on the small of your back when leading you out of a hall and it’s just these little things that he does with you that makes you want to claw an entire curtain off its rod. one time he even poured you a glass of wine before taking a sip with the same glass—it’s like he’s forgotten he’s the yashiro commissioner!
thoma and ayaka barely bat an eye. but also, they’ve known ayato for much longer than you have since you were a recent (and lovely) addition to the little family. so… perhaps this is just how he acts?
“uh-huh, when he’s courting someone that is.”
the sentence that thoma said offhandedly is the only thing that rings through your mind. but your thoughts must’ve shone through your expression because ayato is quick on his feet to smoothly guide you off the dance floor, gloved hand still holding yours as he brings you to a less crowded area—the balcony.
“you appeared to be distracted, that’s why i pulled us away,” ayato breaks the silence and your train of thoughts.
he’s still holding my hand—is what you’re repeating in your head. your eyes can barely focus on a single object within your field of vision. your bottom lip quivers at the revelation you’re carefully starting to uncover.
“i am not distracted,” you inhale sharply when you accidentally meet ayato’s gaze. “i…” your brows crease as you try to get words out of your mouth.
ayato brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and you can physically feel the blood rush up to your fingertips. “would my lady like to return to the hotel?”
your voice leaves your throat in but a hoarse whisper, “what did you just call me?”
you hear a chuckle from ayato and it makes you snap your head around in embarrassment. this new term of endearment rolls off his tongue way too easily, the rascal must have been practicing!
“oh no, no, no, my lady, you must look at me,” a grin appears on ayato’s face at your attempts to hide your expression and when he finally gets you to look at him, you’re caged between his arms.
“why would you call me that?” you whine at his teasing.
“well i just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” ayato murmurs, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks. “will you allow me to call you that?”
kaveh
three hours. it’s been three hours since you and kaveh decided to learn a cute couples dance routine ‘for funsies’. whose idea was this again? weren’t you two supposed to be just friends? doesn’t kaveh have a client meeting tomorrow that he should be preparing for?
“so we do this—then this and then we’re supposed to oh—!”
the silence is deafening. the song playing in the background fades as you both stare at each other, even mirroring the same expression. eyes as wide as saucers. lips just inches from connection.
kaveh’s breath fans over your lips and you can hear the audible gulp he makes at the closeness. he’s also entirely aware that the red in his cheeks has reached his ears by now. while you, on the other hand, have started hearing the percussion of your heart in your own eardrums.
“o-oh…” your legs are frozen in place and hang on a second, why haven’t either of you let go?
his hand is respectfully sat on your waist, while the other is occupied holding your hand. you hear him inhale and it grabs your attention before you can get anymore lost in his gaze. his gaze observes your lovely face, eyes flickering from one feature to another as he whispers, “has anybody ever told you you’re pretty up close?”
you shake your head ever so slightly. “no.”
kaveh likes this answer, humming as he ponders for a moment.
your eyes sparkle when that handsome smile of his appears on his lips. he chuckles shortly at your expression, your palm feels so warm when connected with his.
“i’m glad i’m the first to tell you.”
neuvillette
“oh dear, neuvillette,” you chuckle softly, walking towards him as he takes another sip of his water. he stands in a more secluded corner of the hall, briefly greeting guests with a nod of the head. which is why he stands out like a sore thumb—arctic white hair, designer blue suit and a piercing gaze.
but that gaze doesn’t fool you. the dragon sovereign is probably pondering on retiring for the night and is only still present to keep up with appearances.
“yes, lady y/n?” it’s to nobody’s surprise that he heard you from metres away.
when he turns around, your eyes immediately land on the problem you’ve sensed since you returned from the dancefloor.
“your tie,” you reply, standing in front of his figure, nonchalantly raising your hands in preparation to adjust the garment. “will you allow me to fix it?”
the gears in neuvillette’s mind pause abruptly at your question. he certainly has no problem readjusting his own tie. his hands aren’t holding anything else other than his cup of water—which he can definitely put down on a nearby table!
but why can’t he bring himself to say no?
the ‘of course’ leaves his lips faster than he would have liked, but that’s no matter, your expression shows no sign of displeasure. instead, he watches your sweet smile brighten.
when your fingers reach the tie, neuvillette notices how you tiptoe to reach him. so he does what any normal person would do—he leans down.
it catches you off guard, the tips of your fingers just slightly grazing against his neck in the process. you profusely apologise in whispers to which neuvillette can only chuckle at.
“it is no trouble lady y/n, i appreciate the kind gesture.” the corner of neuvillette’s lips curve, his hands neatly tucked behind him as he allows you to redo his tie.
neuvillette’s lips only seem to further break into a smile as he watches you pat on the tie in completion.
“there, all finished.” you look up at the iudex, chuckling, “you ought to learn how to do this yourself.”
neuvillette hums, “perhaps you could teach me.” he takes your hand, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before kissing it. “but for now a dance shall suffice, would you care to join me?”
#kaeya x reader#childe x reader#ayato x reader#kaveh x reader#neuvillette x reader#kaeya fluff#childe fluff#ayato fluff#kaveh fluff#neuvillette fluff#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff
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Control: The Strange Dynamics of Andy and Leyley
or
The Incest End Is Not The Fucking Bad End, Stop Coping
EDIT:
Hey guys! This post is blowing the fuck up, but this was my first essay on this game, and I think I've had many more insightful things to say since then. Here's a link to a masterpost with all of my essays, which I'd definitely suggest reading after this one:
Anyways, without further adieu...
I heard a lot about this game going in. I knew the general story beats and the funny haha incest memes. I knew it was about a toxic codependent relationship where Ashley, the sister, acted like your standard overly-controlling person who used various abuse techniques to keep someone in line. I expected Ashley to be a yandere-type character where she was borderline psychotic, irrational, and had a skewed perception of reality. I expected her to be a crazy bitch, and I love me some crazy bitches.
But then I actually played through the game. ...That is not what I got.
The game advertises Andrew as a doormat extraordinaire who is strung along by his Very Not Good sister and has no agency of his own' that he's just a henpecked abuse victim. But in practice, that doesn't seem to be the case. One of their first exchanges that in the story is when the occultist played his music and Ashley wanted them to check it out. He says 'no', sure, but then he smirks and says 'but I'll come along if you do.'
That is not the dialogue of someone who has no will of their own, that's the dialogue of someone who willingly gives up their own agency.
This is not, on its own, a sign of anything out of the ordinary. What caught my attention with it, though, is how it flew in the face of the common narrative surrounding their relationship dynamic. But that's not the first time I noticed it, it's just the first time, in retrospect, that their actual dynamic begins to show. The first time I personally noticed it is in the choking scene.
There are a lot of ways to view this situation. But my own reading? This was not a crime of passion. This was not him trying to break free. This is him doing something he's thought about for a while. This is premeditated. In this scene, Andrew is done playing along with Ashley's shit. In this scene, I firmly believe Ashley is the victim.
Ashley is the more openly abusive of the two who seeks to do whatever she can to trap Andrew so he'll never leave her. That much is clear. But Andrew-
-clearly has these same tendencies. He says this shortly after Ashley mentions putting her name up on a call girl's wall for money. There's protective brotherly instincts, and then there's this. This is not something you'd threaten a sister with, this is something that a man would threaten his wife with, which is directly brought attention to in the story.
(hey look he accepts the framing of it being WIFE beating at face value, and says Ashley is the only one who makes him like that! HMMMMMMMMMM WONDER WHAT THAT IMPLIES???)
It also implies that this is not the first time physical force has been threatened! I mean, that much is obvious, because of the choking scene that happened before, but I more mean that this implies that Andrew either threatening or utilizing physical force is an established pattern of behavior. However, the Decay route implies that she never thought Andy would kill her (but Andrew would) which can either be for or against depending on one's perspective, so I don't hold to the idea that it's an established pattern too strongly.
Okay, so. Andrew has some controlling and possessive tendencies too. So what? Their relationship is codependent. It's advertised as such. What of it?
Well first of all, it pretty much blows the lid off of the idea that Ashley is the sole perpetrator of abuse in their relationship. I've seen a lot of people view Andrew's behavior as justified retaliation against abuse, but frankly, I don't believe that him threatening to strangle Ashley for violating boundaries by trying to hold him accountable for his actions (given the strangulation part happens after she brought up Nina's death and how Andrew was ultimately responsible) is justified. And I ESPECIALLY don't believe that him threatening to backhand Ashley for her transactional attitude towards sex is justified in ANY circumstance.
EDIT: This part was edited in from the original post for the sake of readability so they don't have to see the reblogs to see the updated version! This post gained more traction than I was expecting!
…But perhaps even more telling is what she DOESN'T do.
Pushing someone's boundaries until they lash out is a pretty common tactic in abusive relationships. It's easy to see why, too: It justifies prior behavior and paints them in a negative light to others. This can be an important aspect of using DARVO (deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender) against someone, although the two ideas aren't necessarily linked.
It's pretty easy to argue that this is what Ashley does, but if you look at the one time her boundary pushing DID go too far, when Andrew lashes out with physical violence… she doesn't do that. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't paint herself as the victim. She doesn't even try to give a reason as to why she shouldn't be killed outside of the comfort she gives him. Why is this notable?
Because the mom does, in fact, engage in what could be considered DARVO against Ashley:
(i will elaborate more on this screenshot in particular below)
Ashley is directly compared to Mrs. Graves by Andrew, and yet she crucially displays none of the habits that Mrs. Graves does. Mrs. Graves lays the blame on Ashley, but Ashley doesn't lay the blame on Andrew. Mrs. Graves tends to paint herself as the victim of Ashley, but Ashley does no such thing to Andrew. The mom denies her culpability at every turn; Ashley doesn't. Ashley tries to hold Andrew accountable for his role in Nina's death, which could be considered a kind of DARVO. But she never denies that she had a role to play in it. She just mentions that he was the one who pulled the trigger.
And he was.
(and the point was more that she DIDN'T engage in it when threatened with physical violence; the perfect chance to)
In Mrs. Graves' mind, she is the victim of either Ashley, or society as a whole.
In Ashley's mind, she knows what she is, what she does, and what she's about. The only thing she's oblivious to- or doesn't acknowledge, at least- is the threat Andrew poses to her. In her mind, she's the bad guy. In Andrew's mind, Ashley is the bad guy. In official art, she is the bad guy:
And yet, in the game itself, Andrew is the one holding the cleaver. Not her. Hm.
Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat. She allows people to mask their own worst habits and pretend they're better people than they are. She accepts this role. She embraces it. She doesn't try to deny it. But when that mask slips, people lash out at her. Both Mrs. Graves and Andy (NOT Andrew, crucially) predicate much of their self-perception on being what she's not.
But they're the ones who enabled her to become like this, every step of the way.
And that's what blew my fucking mind, and made me question just who the victim really is. She was never given a chance to be normal, because other people relied on her NOT being normal.
By the end of my second playthrough, I felt worse for Ashley than I did for Andrew, and I still do.
So. What am I getting at? What does this show me about the relationship between Ashley and Andrew?
(I also wanted to point out that Andrew does engage in DARVO too but I didn't want to distract from the behavior of the mother. Unlike what Andrew does, it doesn't require someone to reassess the narrative they have towards the game in order to realize the implications of it, whereas it's pretty easy to justify Andrew's words as not qualifying as DARVO if you buy into the narrative that he's the sole victim and/or that Ashley is the main perpetrator of abuse. A friend of mine pointed out that it's a pretty key part of the push/pull dynamic they have, and I completely agree.
However, the direct comparisons to the behavior of the mother can't be ignored no matter your narrative, so I felt as if I needed to highlight that more.)
EDIT OVER
It shows me that their relationship is all about control.
Specifically, the push and pull of who controls who in any given situation.
Andrew weaponizes his incompetence. He always looks to lay the blame on Ashley. This is drawn attention to several times, and said explicitly in the Decay route.
He is always surrendering control to her, and yet he never HAS to. He could always just say no. He could always refuse. What are the consequences? Her being upset? Well, unfortunately, it's not that easy. That's not how abuse dynamics work. He probably feels like he has to, or rather, feels like there's no other option. That he's in too deep, and stuck with her no matter what. But personally, I think it's pretty clear from his willingness to surrender control to Ashley that he still feels like he has it at points, because the moment he feels like he's about to lose it, he either considers violence, even as a child-
(the actual scene of slicing her finger is pretty sus too with this reading in mind)
-or resorts to it, outright, in both the choking scene and the vision in the Decay ending... when Ashley doesn't have enough bullets to defend herself (this will be important later!).
SO WHAT POINT AM I TRYING TO MAKE??? AM I JUST MAKING ABUSE APOLOGIA (the answer may surprise you)?
No. I don't think so.
Ashley is obviously very bad. She's controlling and uses pretty textbook abuse and entrapment tactics on Andrew whereas everything he does to her is inference, with Ashley too daft to realize just how much danger she's in until the vision in the Decay ending spells it out for her- and I don't know if a true abuse dynamic allows for one to be completely unaware of the consequences of breaking free. She could just let go of her desire for control and Andrew would be a much happier person.
And that's the point, because so would she.
I bring up control because that push and pull- that desire for control over each other- is exactly what's tearing their relationship apart, and this effect most obviously manifests in the two endings of episode 2. In the Decay ending, Ashley either tries to exert control over Andrew due to a lack of trust, or Andrew allows his feelings of entrapment to truly take root in his mind and guide his actions. In the Decay ending, Andrew becomes a true doormat with no will of his own, allowing his feelings of bitterness and resentment to fester and grow, eventually resulting in their deaths.
In the Burial ending, Andrew does the exact opposite. He takes control of the situation and does exactly what Ashley would do without much of a fuss. This eventually culminates in THAT scene (assuming you take the Questionable route), where his facial expression alone speaks volumes:
Look at how fucking confident this man is. This is not the face of someone who's unsure of himself; this is the face of someone who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. He is absolutely in control of this situation, and everyone is happier for it.
And what does Ashley have to do to get this ending?
Let's go back to Decay for a moment. If Ashley has bullets in her gun, she has control over the situation. She, at any point, could put an end to Andrew and survive. And yet, at the very end of it all, she could choose not to. She could choose to surrender control to Andrew, allowing herself to die. And that ending, I believe so much of his life and willpower will have decayed that there's nothing left for him to take control of, leaving him no choice- or rather, no use for the control he now has- but to die with her.
And in the Burial ending, she has to let him out of his cage before it's too late. She has to surrender control to him, and when she does-
-He will become everything she ever needed him to be.
It's all about her surrendering control, and it's all about him taking control. Because, no matter what, as long as that happens... the two of them will be together forever.
In life...
...or in death.
How romantic.
So no, the incest end is not the fucking bad end. They're going to be together forever in the end either way, so they might as well live through it.
#gaming#the coffin of andy and leyley#gravecest#ashley graves#andrew graves#someone help me i can't stop thinking about this fucking game
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Kinktober Day Nineteen: Foursome and Double Penetration
Poly Bat Boys x Female Reader
A / N : I was going to post this at 12pm PT , 3pm ET but i wasn’t satisfied with it and rewrote it like 3 times and i also worked an 8hr shift today but i hope you guys like it.
You always knew having three mates would be hard. Even more so because one of them is the most powerful High Lord in history. And the other two are the most powerful Illyrians in history.
But not as hard as the way they were gonna fuck your brains out.
All three males were completely different yet so similar in the way they loved and communicated with you and with each other.
The bond had snapped with Azriel first, then Rhys and then Cassian. You were with the inner circle at Rhys’ cabin in the Illyrian Mountains, when the bonds snapped into place.
Laying your head against Azriel’s shoulder on the sofa where you were all sitting and he called you name to see if you were still awake, “Y/n ?” You lifted your head up to meet his eyes and that’s when it snapped for the both of you.
Rhys saw the interaction between the both of you and was confused by the silence that had come from it, concern lacing his voice, “Y/n ? Az ?” Then the bond snapped for the three of you causing all three of you to gasp.
Cassian heard the three of you gasp and was confused because he had missed what happened and was a little drunk. “Uh… what happened ?” Eyes darting between the three of you, shocked at the fact that you were all mates, none of you heard his question. So he repeated it louder, “What happened ?” You all looked at him and then it snapped with him too.
You let out a scream because, mother’s tits not only did you have one mate, not two mates but three. Three fucking mates. Azriel was just in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape. Rhys looked surprised and confused. Cassian only uttered three words, “What. The. Fuck.”
All of you had a serious talk about what to do but your mind was made up, you wouldn’t pick one over the others. You couldn’t, you’d loved them all throughout the centuries you’ve known each other and couldn’t stand to think about hurting them like that.
Luckily they all agreed that they loved you too and wanted to all stay together even if that meant sharing you.
The frenzy that came after accepting the bond was mind blowing.
It had been months since then but that fire between all of you was still there. That's why when they came back from being gone for half a day at Windhaven, Rhys winnowed all four of you to the bedroom, as soon as you had greeted them at the door.
The tension was undeniable, the scent of arousal filled the room, their muscles visibly taut under their clothes and pupils blown.
Rhys misted everyone’s clothes and their hands were on you, not one inch of your skin untouched. Azriel wasted no time in picking you up and laying you on the massive bed. Kissing you with fervor before pulling back and leaning his forehead against yours. Groaning, “I missed you so much, bunny.” As he was lining his cock up with your entrance, burying himself inside you with a guttural groan.
Your walls fluttered around him as he rutted into, burying his head into your neck as he fucked you. “Good girl.” You heard Cassian praise at your side. Then Rhys, “Taking all of him.”
“So fucking good,” Az grunted, lifting his head up to sit up on his knees as he pounded into you. “You look so pretty like this bunny, so full of my cock.” His voice was the embodiment of lust, each word making the heat in your tummy coil tighter.
Your responding whimpers had Rhys and Cassian at your sides in an instant. Cocks fisted in each of their hands as one of Cassian’s hands tugged and pinched at your sensitive nipples and Rhys’ circling your clit in tandem with Az’s thrusts. “Oh fuck !” You cried out already feeling like you were going to cum.
Azriels hips began to stutter and he started panting meaning he was right on the edge too. He shifted, angling his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside of you. Making your walls spasm around him, “Want me to fill you up bunny ?” You nod and babble an incoherent yes that only your mates would understand. Azriel snaps his hips against yours faster while Rhys applies more pressure to your clit. With a small scream and your back arching off the bed you cum. Az following right behind you, his release barreling through him, coating your walls.
Cassian didn’t let you catch your breath as he positioned you on top of him while he sat against the headboard. Seating himself inside you in one go before jackknifing up into you. “Fuck, baby you’re so perfect.” He growled before taking one of your nipples into his mouth.
You were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t even notice Rhys coming up behind you. Leaning over your shoulder as his hand rubbed your lower back lovingly while Azriel’s shadows were caressing your face and tits while teasing your clit. “Do you think you can take us both, princess ?” You turned your attention to him, his eyes softening but his lips quirking up into a smirk at the sight of your fucked out state.
You couldn’t form words so you nodded your head and pushed your ass out towards him. Earning a dark chuckle from him, “Cruel, wicked thing.”
“She wants it, give it to her Rhys. She’s been a good girl.” Azriel encouraged.
Rhys didn’t hesitate, gathering some of your arousal on his fingers, slowly working your hole open with his fingers, as Cassian continued fucking you. “Rhys please.” You whined making all the males smirk at your impatience. Still Rhys was taking it slow because he didn’t want to hurt you, so you took matters into your own hands and grabbed his length pushing it in.
Cassian stilled inside of you, gripping your hips in a bruising grip as you worked Rhys’s length inside of you.
You and Rhys let out twin groans once we he was fully seated in you. “Fuck,” you panted, feeling your release building again as Cassian’s started slamming his hips up into yours again roughly. “Rhys. Move.” You gritted out through clenched teeth.
“I -Fuck princess.” Rhys groaned as his hips met the swell of your ass. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the sound of skin hitting skin. Eyes screwed shut, gasping as Rhys and Cassian pumped out in and out of you in tandem.
Your head now lying against Cassian’s tanned chest as they both fucked you mercilessly. “Look at me, Bunny.” Azriel commanded. Obeying without a thought, instantly meeting his gaze. “Good girl.” He cooed as his scarred palm caressed your flush cheek, yet the fist around his cock didn’t falter.
Azriel catches you staring at his hand as he strokes himself and smirks, “You want me in your mouth ?”Opening your mouth as a silent response, he moves closer so you don’t strain your neck, pushing his length into your warm mouth groaning.
The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure coming from all of you and skin slapping against skin. You were moaning on Az’s cock as you felt fire begin to pool in your tummy as he purred, “Look at how well you take all of us. You were made for us, princess.”
His words sent you over the edge, making you cry out, body trembling as Rhys and Cassian fucked you through your orgasm.
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It was too much, and yet not enough at the same time. You were so full but still wanted everything they had to give you.
The sound of your moans around his cock was enough to have Azriel spilling into your mouth. Cassian and Rhys groaning at the sight of both you, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as their releases barreled through them.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar smut#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel smut#azriel x reader#azriel#cassian general#cassian lord of bloodshed#cassian smut#cassian x reader#cassian#rhysand high lord#rhysand smut#rhysand x reader#rhysand#rhys smut#rhys x reader#rhys#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#rhys acotar#bat boys acotar#bat boys#bat boys smut#bat boys x reader
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Baby, It's Cold Outside
A/N: I swear I'm gonna work on my prompt posts after this but it was unexpectedly cold today and I was not ready 😭
Your feet crunched loudly underneath you. The snow comes up to your shines, forcing you to take high trudging steps. The wind is throwing snowflakes into your face, and your tears live short liquid lives before turning to ice on your cheeks.
So far, your first experience with snow is...hell on earth.
If hell froze over, that is.
The rest of the crew were completely comfortable in the weather, but what could you expect? The navigator was a polar bear after all. Someone had said something about part of the crew being from the frigid North Blue, which was suddenly beginning to make sense.
"There's gotta be something wrong with him," you muttered into the scarf wrap around the lower half of your face. It was swampy and damp against your skin, collecting snot and condensation from your breath. Disgusting. But at least it kept your lips and nose from going numb.
The plan was to rendezvous with the rest of the crew on the other side of the island. Bepo was leading the others across, and as the next best thing to a navigator, you were to guide and stay with Law to wait for them at this shabby excuse for a cabin.
You surveyed the white wasteland outside the window. A sheet of startling blue sky loomed overhead. Speaking of Law, you turned to look at your captain just slightly behind you. You couldn't read anything on his expression, but the fact that he didn't look nearly as miserable as you told you enough.
The shack you waited in had nothing except four walls and a fireplace--trees for firewood not included.
"How do you stand this?!" You say. "I'm so cooold!" The end of your whining turns into fake sob.
"Keep your eyes ahead, y/n-ya," Law says. The slight upward pull of his lips turns the neutral resting bitch face he normally has into an amused smirk.
You exaggerate your pout, "that's all I get?! This is my first time in the snow and it's awful! I'm freezing!"
Law chuckles. "It's not my fault you were raised on a tropical island."
Law only wears his hat, a coat--the same one you remember him wearing on Punk Hazard--and a pair of gloves. He's practically naked compared to your hat, gloves, scarf, dense coat, and wool snow pants.
You sigh loudly, your shoulders slump miserably in front of you. Law watches you with a twinkle in his eyes that causes warmth to bloom across your face.
The look in his eyes belays a fondness he normally hides.
He's enjoying this.
"How long do you think it will take the others to get here?" He asks you.
Business as usual, then. You walk back over to the shack's window to observe the sky.
"There's still no sign of clouds. In fact, snow blindness might be an issue for the rest of the crew. They're walking on a plateau, far away from any slopes so they won't have to work against any winds. I'd say three hours? Maybe a little less since some of you are cold weather natives." A draft blows cold winds through the cabin, making you shudder all the way down to your toes. "I can't wait until we literally blow this popsicle stand."
Law wraps his arms around you from behind. His front flush to your back and his chin resting on the top of your head.
"Oh?"
You lean in to him and stuff his hands into your front pockets so you can hold them. Gloved fingers intertwine. You have just enough room to lovingly stroke your thumb across the back of Law's hand. A wordless thank you.
"I won't listen to you complain about how cold it is for that long." Law's voice rumbles from. "I'll warm you up."
You watch the snow drift and dance in the wind through icy windows. You never knew the ice crystals people spoke of were truly crystals, until you saw them on the window. The last time you saw the sky this blue was back on your home island. Cloudless and comfortingly blue.
"It's actually kind of pretty," you say quietly.
"It can be," Law responds. He surprises you further by pressing a kiss to your temple. "You were too busy freezing your ass off to notice."
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Lonely Too Long l (To Hell and Back Drabble)
Series Masterlist
Summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, minors DNI. Flashback of implied SA, but no descriptions. Soft Joel, Joel sings to reader. *If you happen to be reading the series, I recommend reading this one because it starts setting up Joel and reader’s relationship. This is also the last flashback she’s going to have since it’s a heavier one than the last two.
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Dust to Dust is one of my favorite songs by The Civil Wars. I know the song did not come out until like 2013, but we’re just going to pretend. Also, I know that the gif is video game Joel, but god I love him just as much and it fits this scene so we are gonna roll with it. I know this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I wanted to write it so I did. 🤌🏼 I am still organizing the taglist for this series, it will be start with the next chapter. This was mostly for me but hopefully some people out there enjoy it too. 🤍
You couldn’t scream.
You’re trying to cry out, but you can’t.
Chest tight, your lungs won’t expand.
You couldn’t breathe.
One hand around your neck, the other is fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.
“Been thinking about this all day,” he grinned, his fingers roughly scraping against the skin of your lower stomach.
In the corner, your cellmate is curled into a little ball in the floor, hands covering her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.
She’s probably praying she won’t be next.
She’s seventeen so even in the midst of your own chaos, you can’t help but pray she isn’t next too.
You thrashed around underneath him. It’s futile, but all you can think about is getting him off you.
Grin fading, he let out a heavy, irritated sigh. His hand left the waistband of your jeans. He reached behind him and pulled out his gun, bringing it up to into your view—it caused you to cease any and all movements. “Listen to me,” he said, pressing the barrel of the pistol against your temple. “It’s simple, really. Keep squirming and I’ll blow your fucking brains out. Do you understand, dollface?”
When he received no response, he dug the barrel deeper into your skin, his finger on the trigger.
“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone low.
Nearly paralyzed, all you could do was nod.
“Good.” He roughly flipped you over.
The sound of his belt buckle clanking rang loudly in your ears. As he yanked your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, you closed your eyes.
Both your mind and your body went numb.
A light, late night rainstorm came out of nowhere, sweeping over the town. The soft, pitter pattering sound of raindrops on the window above your bed had almost lulled you into slumber.
Almost.
You’re safe.
You’re safe.
You’re safe.
The words blended into a steady but silent chant.
You’re safe.
You’re safe.
You’re fucking safe.
Slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead, you exhaled a long, heavy sigh and stared up into the the darkness of the bedroom.
You couldn’t be certain as to what time it was, but it had to be well into the middle of the night. You’d been tossing and turning for a couple of hours but somehow it felt like a hell of a lot longer than that.
You were fucking exhausted. You nearly ached for some sleep, but every damn time that you closed your eyes, vivid images of the past came creeping in and chased it further and further away.
Your brain just couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the fact that this place wasn’t dangerous.
That you didn’t have to sleep with one eye open.
That nobody was going to hurt you.
That you were safe in a soft bed in a real house.
You weren’t lying on a dirty cot in a human cage.
Sighing again, you thought about Joel who was in his bedroom down the hallway, sleeping.
It brought you comfort knowing he was close. But for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, part of you couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t close enough.
You. The same woman who vowed never to trust another human being ever again—you wanted him fucking closer. Actually, it wasn’t a want so much as it was a need.
You needed him to be closer.
Sitting up, you tossed the sheets back and swung your legs over the edge of the mattress, your bare feet meeting the cold, hardwood floors. You stood and quietly padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards Joel’s.
“You know where to find me if you need anythin’,” he’d assured you before he had gone off to bed.
You stopped in front of his door and lifted a curled first, knocking lightly. About a minute or two went by, and just when you started to realize that you’d made a mistake and whirled around to make a run for it back to your own room where you could hop back into bed and pretend that the thought of this hadn’t ever even crossed your mind, he opened up his bedroom door.
“Thought I heard a knock,” Joel mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one of his hands. He wore nothing but his sweatpants, his hair looking about ten times more disheveled than usual. “Everythin’ alright?”
You swallowed dryly, trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander away from his face—it proved to be almost too difficult to keep from staring. Joel’s shoulders were broad, his chest was wide, and his stomach was soft; his sweatpants hung on the low side on his hips and revealed the trail of dark curls that started at his lower belly and descended until it disappeared underneath the elastic waistband.
You caught yourself before they could go lower.
“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, stifling a yawn. Thankfully he hasn’t seemed to notice you gawking at him. He rubbed at his eyes once again and then observed you, trying to figure out what it was that had brought you to his room at this hour. “You need somethin’? Are you cold? Did you need an extra blanket?”
You lightly shook your head in response. No.
He tried again. “Are you still hungry?” he asked as he gestured towards the stairs. “I can make you another sandwich if you want—”
He was cut off by another shake of your head that told him that wasn’t it.
“You just can’t sleep,” Joel realized after a minute. He frowned—he could see how tired you were and for as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he had a feeling that he knew what it was that was on your mind and keeping you awake. “What can I do to help, sweetness?”
You blinked, standing there almost dumbfounded.
Clearly, you hadn’t thought this through.
You would knock on Joel’s door and then what?
You would talk to him about what’s on your mind?
Letting out a tiny frustrated huff that was directed at yourself, you waved a dismissive hand in the air.
Forget it. There’s nothing you can do.
As you turned around to leave, Joel reached out to take your arm. He curled his fingers lightly around your elbow. “Well now, hold on a minute. You’re at my door for a reason,” he said. He watched as your eyes flickered to his hand around your arm, but he couldn’t be sure if his touch had bothered you. He dropped it, not wanting to risk pushing you too far or crossing a line, not when he had made progress with you, progress he didn’t want to lose. “You not bein’ able to sleep—it have anythin’ to do with you still not feelin’ safe?”
You hesitated.
“It’s alright, darlin’. You can be honest with me.”
The sheepish expression on your face said it all.
No, I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe.
“Would it help if you slept with me?”
You raised your eyebrows at him, eyes widening at his proposal. At least, the way he’d said it.
Excuse me?
Realizing how it had sounded, Joel flushed. “What I mean is, would it help if you slept in my bed?” He winced. That hadn’t sounded all that much better. “You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he sputtered out quickly. “That’s what I meant. That way I’m right next to you and you ain’t alone.”
Gnawing nervously on your bottom lip, you took a minute to think it over.
If you wanted him closer, this was your chance.
But why? Why did you want him to be closer? Why did you need to have him at your side?
You’d been on your own for an entire fucking year.
And it had been by choice.
You didn’t want to be around other people, sure as hell didn’t need to be around other people.
And then Joel Miller makes his appearance and all of a sudden, you’re at his door in the middle of the damn night because you feel the need to have him at your side?
Finally, you nodded your head. Okay.
“Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing you in. Not wanting you to feel trapped in his room, he left the door open. “And you’re free to go on back to your own room whenever you feel like it.”
Joel picked up his discarded tee shirt from earlier, a small labored grunt escaping him as he brought himself back into an upright position, the bones in his lower back crackling with protest. Turning over his shirt right side out, he tugged it on as you took a look around his bedroom, a larger space dimly lit by the small lamp on his nightstand.
That’s when you saw it.
Perched on a stand, it was nestled in the corner.
A guitar.
Curiously, you walked over and knelt in front of it.
You reached out and softly ran your fingers across the strings, smiling to yourself at the sound it had made.
“Found that while out on patrol with Tommy a few weeks ago,” Joel stated as he came up behind you slowly. “Gibson. Little worse for wear, but in damn good condition all things considerin’. Woulda been a crime to leave it out there,” he chuckled. “I know Ellie’s been wantin’ to learn, it’s the main reason it came back home with me. I haven’t shown her yet since I still gotta clean and polish her up.” He took a brief pause. “You know how to play?”
You ran your fingers across the strings once more, and a loud, terrible noise that wasn’t even close to music caused him to wince. You then looked up at him over your shoulder with an amused grin.
Does it sound like I know how to play?
Joel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” He leaned over and picked up the guitar. He walked over and took a seat on the side of his bed, patting the seat beside him. “C’mere, sweetness.”
Getting up to your feet, you wrapped Joel’s flannel closer around your body as you padded over to his bed, perching yourself next to him.
Head down and focused, he began to strum a few notes. You couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by how his large hands moved on the instrument, the way his long, thick fingers—
Swallowing dryly, you cut the thought short.
Curiously, you put a hand on his shoulder.
Joel paused the tune. “What is it, darlin’?”
With your opposite hand, you touched your throat and then pointed at him. Can you sing?
He gave a half hearted shrug. “I do like to sing,” he admitted almost bashfully. “Always been fond of it ever since I was a kid.” He chuckled. “Before goin’ into construction, I wanted to be a musician. But I knew it would never pay the bills.”
You squeezed Joel’s shoulder and gestured to the guitar, then to his throat again. Will you sing me a song?
Joel felt the back of his neck burn and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Normally, I would probably say no,” he admitted. “But, seein’ as you saved my life and all, I’d be a real asshole if I said no to you.”
Lifting your chin, you shot him a smug look. That is very true. So go on then, Johnny Cash. Play me a song.
“Alright. Any requests?”
You nudged him lightly. Very funny.
“Okay, um. Gimme a minute to think of a song.”
Withdrawing your hand from his shoulder, you sat back against his pillows and pulled your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees.
Nervously, Joel inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and began strumming the guitar. Chills shot down your spinal cord as a hauntingly beautiful melody filled his bedroom. He turned and angled his body towards to you as he began to sing.
“You’ve held your head up,
you’ve fought the fight
you bear the scars, you’ve done your time
listen to me, you’ve been lonely too long…”
Your mouth fell open slightly.
“Let me in the walls you’ve built around
we can light a match and burn them down…”
The rich baritone of his voice caused goosebumps to eruprt all over your flesh. Furiously, you rubbed at your bare legs, but it was useless.
With every note Joel sang to you, more appeared.
With every note Joel sang to you, the harder you found it to breathe steady.
With every note Joel sang to you, the more beats your heart seemed to be skipping.
“Let me hold your hand
and dance ‘round and ‘round the flames
in front of us, dust to dust…”
Joel glanced up, his dark brown eyes holding your gaze as he sang the final verse of the song.
“You’re like a mirror, reflectin’ me
takes one to know one, so take it from me
you’ve been lonely
you’ve been lonely too long.”
Even if you could speak to him, you would’ve been left speechless—all that you could do was stare at him in complete awe.
Joel set the guitar down. “I’m alright,” he said with a sheepish little laugh. “My voice ain’t nowhere as nice as yours.”
You stiffened slightly.
What are you talking about?
“Don’t look at me like that. I know it was you who I heard singin’ back at that cabin when I was comin’ back around.” He gave you a crooked grin. “Earlier I was just playin’ dumb, but I know it was you. You have a gorgeous voice, and I’d love to hear it again someday.”
Hugging your legs closer to yourself, you dropped your head down onto your knees, embarrassed.
What was the matter with you?
Here was a man who had taken you in, offered you a warm bed under his own roof—gave you clothes and fed you, even offered to give up his own damn bed and sleep on the cold hard floor beside you to make you feel safe enough to sleep.
And you still couldn’t say a fucking word to him.
“Hey. Look at me.”
Forcing your head up, your gaze met his.
“It’s alright, darlin’,” Joel assured you. “It’s just like I told you downstairs. We’re gonna take it one step at a time.” Lifting one of his hands, he reached out holding it out to you, his palm face upwards. “And I swear, once you find your voice, I’m gonna do all that I can do to make sure you never lose it again.”
Biting your lower lip, you placed your hand in his.
Joel have it a gentle squeeze. “Atta girl.”
Much sooner than you would have liked, he let go of your hand and stood up.
“We should get some sleep. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before you meet my kid. Ellie. She’ll be here first thing and I should warn you she can be, uh, she can be a lot to process.” He let out an amused snort and reached for a pillow, tossing it onto the floor. “You can have all the blankets, I’ll just take this throw here—”
As Joel reached past you for a green flannel throw blanket, you grabbed his arm to stop him. His face was just inches from yours.
Close.
But again somehow still not close enough.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.
Warm and laced with mint from the toothpaste he had used to brush his teeth before bed, his breath tickled the tip of of your nose, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine.
Your eyes looked right into his as you scooter over to the other side of his bed—it was firm, cold. Like no one had ever occupied that space before. But it was foolish to think that a man like Joel Miller had never had another woman share his bed before.
You patted the spot beside you.
Sleep up here.
“You sure about this, darlin’?”
You patted the empty spot again. Yes I’m sure.
Joel squinted at you. “You ain’t gonna strangle me in my sleep, are you now?”
His half serious joke was met with a glare.
Keep it up with wise cracks and I just might.
He held his hands up in defense. “Just checkin.”
As you crawled underneath his dark green sheets, Joel slid into bed beside you, making sure to leave a good three foot gap between the both of you; he murmured a quiet goodnight and switched off the lamp on his nightstand before rolling over onto his stomach—not even two minutes later and his soft snores filled the room.
You turned onto your side, facing him. Through a beam of moonlight steaming in through a crack in the curtains, you could just make out the outlines of his facial features. He’d fallen asleep facing you.
Closing your eyes, your body sank further into the mattress, heavy with exhaustion.
Taut, tense muscles finally relaxed.
Tight jaw finally unclenched.
You’re safe.
You slowly started drifting off to sleep.
With Joel beside you, no nightmares came to visit.
#to hell and back#to hell and back fic#joel miller#joel miller comfort#soft joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller drabble#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#Joel miller series#Joel miller story#joel miller fic#Joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#Spotify
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3am | ethan landry
notes: aaah!!! i can't believe you guys enjoyed my little ethan post. ironically, i wrote that in the early morning hours with little inspiration. so here's another one. some blood + injuries
part 2!
'you are so dumb for trusting him'
She rolled her eyes as the text from Mindy popped up on her phone's notification wall.
She was on the subway on her way back from a party Chad had dragged her to; it wasn't exactly her scene, but she indulged in it nevertheless, now mildly sober instead of risking it in the streets.
Was it safe to travel alone when there's a masked killer dressed up as Ghostface going around? Possibly. But the killer could be anyone, New York was a big city as it was, and not all the rideshare drivers were the nicest in the Big Apple.
Her phone rang as she leaned up against the stanchion, one hand holding the rail as she answered it, "Mindy if you're here to criticize my choice in men-"
She stopped mid-lecture as a gravelly voice chuckled, "It's not Mindy, (y/n)."
Her eyes widened as she was sober enough to recognize that voice; the one who terrorized her friends a year ago, and the one who was terrorizing them now, herself included.
Her heart slowly started to race as she frantically looked around, wondering if the ghastly killer was on the train with them, "You're the one responsible for those killings, right?"
"So you've been following the news," The was a short yet death-defying pause in between, "Good girl. You do know the rules, right?"
It seemed as the ride back to the Blackmore University station took forever suddenly, because now, she had no interest in staying on the subway any longer than she should.
"I've heard enough of them. Cut to the chase, what do you want from me?"
Her eyes continued to scan the rest of the train car for the killer, but she couldn't find him to her avail.
"What do I want from you," He paused, and as soon as the train came to the stop, she rushed out of there with everyone else. "Is to see the look on your face as I stab you in the heart."
"Oh yeah?" Her voice wavered as she made her way up the stairs, instinctively tightening her backpack and making a run to her boyfriend's dorm. "You're not as brutal as you make your artwork seem."
"Maybe I'm not the monster you think I am."
"I highly doubt it." She spat, before hanging up and making her way up the stairs to Chad and Ethan's dorm.
Unfortunately, for her, Ghostface had been following her, and jumped out of a utility closet down the hall, slightly worrying her that he could have gotten to her boyfriend.
Her scream echoed through the rhetorically quiet hall as the killer's knife sliced her forearm, causing her to stumble backward and fall.
This Ghostface wasn't the one who called, she thought, in a disarray of last-minute thoughts and panics.
Her sobs and wails choked her as the knife made its way to her side, the masked killer repeatedly stabbing her there thrice times before raising the knife to go in for the final blow.
BANG!
A gun was fired which shot Ghostface backward, which Chad had carried with him.
Ethan was right behind him, and his attention turned quickly to her, allowing Ghostface to slip off again as per usual.
"Ethan?" She weakly whispered, attempting to stop her wound from bleeding.
He muttered strings of curses and apologies such as, 'I'm never letting you take the subway home again' as he scooped her up, not caring if blood got all over him.
"He's gone."
(there's definitely gonna part 2 i don't like how this ended)
#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#jack champion#scream#scream 6#scream vi#chad meeks martin#mason gooding#mindy meeks martin#jasmin savoy brown#ghostface#ghostface imagines#scream imagines#tara carpenter#sam carpenter#jenna ortega#melissa barrera#devyn nekoda#anika kayoko
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james potter as your boyfriend.
pairings: james potter x fem!reader.
warnings: nsfw under the cut and inappropriate language used.
author’s note: disappearing again after this so enjoy this for now </3 !!! do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.
in the relationship
• he literally fell for you the moment he first saw you, nobody can blame him; you were too incredibly beautiful, an elegance unlike any other, an just overall lovely so it was no surprise how quickly he grew an infatuation with you
• like he could still remember that day (of course he could, bloody sirius would always find a way to remind him) when he bumped into a wall and fell, crashing to the ground, the lens of his glasses cracking from the impact as he passed by you, and he was too enthralled to pay attention to where he was going
• remus would say to him, looking utterly fed up with him, “james, that's the tenth time you've broken your glasses, for merlin's sake watch where you're going.”
• james would argue, “the love of my life was just near me, you can't tell me that i should just ignore her.”
• remus doesn't bother saying anything and simply leaves him alone with peter and sirius, who were laughing hard
• so yes; he did fell for you, literally and figuratively
• at first you weren’t that pleased with him; he literally won’t leave you alone—flirts with you whenever he has the chance and you were simply annoyed by it
• “you have to stop it,” he would complain with a goofy grin
• “stop what?” you asked, confused
• “being so beautiful; it’s distracting me in class, i can’t pay attention to anything other than you, love.”
• even while you occasionally found his antics bothersome, somehow you grew fond of it to the point that you finally agreed to be his girlfriend
• he literally won’t. stop. smiling
• “you’re finally my girl, i mean you’ve always been but this is much better.”
• treats you so GOOD
• worships the ground you walk on (ever since the beginning)
• calls you “love”
• so clingy !!!!!!!!!!!!! but you love it though
• definitely pouts and sulks when you don’t pay attention to him
• needs affirmation all the time. he cherishes it when you kiss his cheeks and reassure him; it helps him feel worthy of you and you would constantly assure him that he is enough for you
• “godric, i bloody love you,” he would say pulling you to him and never having the intention of letting you go
• you’re his lucky charm in everything but most especially whenever he has a quidditch match
• would refuse to play until you arrive
• his eyes would light up once you finally arrived, and he would be immensely motivated to win
• blows you a kiss whenever he scores
nsfw
• “fuck me,” he would groan whenever he sees you wearing his quidditch jersey with nothing under it
• gets turned on so fucking fast
• so needy. literally begs for you, “please, love, i need you right now.”
• moans and whines for you to just fuck him as you grind your pussy against his throbbing dick
• a switch—sometimes he takes control when he’s fucking you but he doesn’t mind you being dominant over him, in fact, he likes it
• he is obsessed with eating you out; he would devour your pussy as if he were a starving man; you laying on the bed, bare before him just like he desires, especially after a long day and gripping your hips down anytime you would whine and beg for more
• you both are just desperate for each other
• “you gonna cum, love? fuck, i could cum just by looking at you all wet for me.”
#♡ — ani’s works.#james potter x reader#james potter smut#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter imagine#james potter headcanon#james potter blurb#james potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter x fem!reader#harry potter smut#harry potter imagine#harry potter headcanon
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hello, lovely! so so happy to see you writing again, you're really one of my fave writers here 🥹 if you want, would you mind writing a fluffy best friends to lovers one with eddie where he accidentally overhears nancy and robin talking about reader's feelings for him, and how the reader feels like she should just give up on her feelings towards eddie because it seems like a hopeless case lmao i'm sorry if it's too specific! ily ❤️
hi! I love you!!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I got stuck in the middle of it with no way out, so I scrapped it and started again. I hope you love it. thank you for the kindest message, you're a star xxx
contains some dubious eavesdropping and lots of fluff. somethin' suggestive towards the end but nothing huge. :-)
[3k (ish)]
-
“Hey, handsome.”
Eddie turns to the door. There you are, between the edge of it and the doorframe, socked feet on the step. You’ve got your hands behind your back and you want something.
He smiles at you softly and reaches his hand out without a word. He watches you return the smile and step down onto the porch and towards him. You lift your hand, take the lit cigarette from between his two fingers and lean on the post opposite him.
His eyes linger as you pull it between your lips and inhale, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing.
“You look nice today,” he tells you.
Your eyes open slowly as you turn your head to look at him. You bring the cigarette down and hold it out to him, twisting back towards the road to blow the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.
As he takes it from you, you say, “Thanks.”
“New top?”
You nod. “Mm-hmm.”
“‘S’pretty. Suits you.”
“Thanks,” you say through another smile. This one’s sly, coy, a wall because he’s complimented you twice and that’s at least one time too many for you. He likes the way he can see how your cheeks warm and how you shift your weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting to stop yourself swooning.
You watch cars go by and listen to the distant sound of Robin’s laugh inside the house, passing the cigarette between the two of you until it’s nothing more than a butt. Eddie throws it onto the gravel at the foot of the porch steps, being gracious enough to save the Wheelers’ nicely varnished wood from being ruined by ash and a filter, and does his best to stomp it out without shoes on.
“Your sock’s gonna get wet,” you tell him.
“‘S’okay,” he says, hopping back up onto the porch and swaying about until he reaches the front door. “C’mon. There’s a mean game of Irish snap waiting for us in there.”
You hum again, only this time it’s a sadder sound. He feels the skip of his heart and the corner of his mouth twitches.
“‘M’gonna stay out here a minute. Need some air.”
“Oh,” he breathes. He takes half a step back towards you. “Okay. You want company?”
You shake your head and it rips something within him. It aches. “I’ll only be a second.”
The ache yawns open somewhere in his chest but he surrenders, returning to the door and leaving it ajar for you as he goes back inside. His mind stays with you as he moves through the house, eyes on his feet and the damp spot on the side of his left sock.
He passes the stairs and as he rounds the corner, he stops dead at the sound of your name.
His ears perk up like an animal and he moves, without thinking, so his back is against the wall.
“-And I get why she feels like that, you know?”
Robin’s pacing. He hears the soft thump of her fluffy slippers each time she takes another step on the carpet.
“She just…” Nancy sighs. “Surely she should try to tell him?”
“Nance, c’mon. You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”
“I just…”
“Nance.”
“He’s just… They’re so close, there’s probably so much we don’t see.”
“She tells us everything.”
Eddie catches his breathing getting heavier and stops, holding it at the hilt with lungs full of air. His hands are splayed across the wall behind him and he’s leaning with all his might, willing the floorboards beneath his feet to stay quiet just for a few moments more. His ears strain because to his right, Steve, Argyle and Jonathan are having some kind of cruelly-timed debate about pizza crusts in the kitchen.
“We can’t know that,” Nancy says. Eddie thinks she sounds sad; he can hear her mouth turning down in the shape of her words, and her fingers are drumming across the glass-topped coffee table, her anxious tell.
“We’ve known her long enough. And we’ve known him long enough. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
“She just seemed so sad. I wish she’d try.”
“It’s not worth it,” Robin tells her, words short and frank. Her repetitive footsteps stop. “Clearly.”
Nancy hums.
“He’s hopeless,” Robin continues. “She’s been pining after him for what? A year?”
“More than that,” Nancy says quietly.
“Exactly! She deserves to be happy, we want her to be happy. So she has to-”
“Move on,” Nancy offers.
“Right.”
“But… We see him all the time. He’s our friend.”
“I guess we just… Help her through it,” Robin says. “Get Steve to set her up or something. Surely we know someone who’s far removed enough from Eddie?”
The colour has drained from Eddie’s face, seeping down his body and through his damp socks and into the floor. The hands keeping him steady on the wall are rendered useless, because he can feel them clamming up and slipping down the tasteless wallpaper the Wheelers have covered their hallway in. He slowly pushes himself up to stand and his head spins, the gaudy florals on the walls blurring to crisp bursts of colour.
What the fuck?
What the fuck did he just listen to?
He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have listened; it was a private conversation, a private conversation about you. And yet he can’t bring himself to move, ears trained solely on the now-quieter mumblings between Nancy and Robin about how to cheer you up, and…
Andy.
Eddie’s stomach turns at the four letters as he hears Robin say them, louder than she’d been before, bright like a lightbulb.
Andy.
He lives down the street from Nancy, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and a mailbox Eddie probably knocked over at some point in his early teens. He has a good car - better than Steve’s, even - and wears ugly, pasty polo-neck sweaters and pristine tennis shoes. He probably plays tennis, Eddie thinks.
He’s everything Eddie knows your parents would love. Hell, he’s heard you complain more times than you should ever have had to about the sly comments your mother makes, the garden parties and barbecues you’re dragged to on hot Saturdays with the sole purpose of setting the two of you up.
“She hates him,” Eddie hears Nancy tell Robin flatly, their voices hushed again but just loud enough for him to do exactly what he knows he should not be doing.
“But he’s interested,” Robin whines.
“Only ‘cause her parents try so hard. He’s awful, Rob.”
“At least he’d try! I bet he’d take her to Enzo’s if we asked him to.”
“Rob,” Nancy hisses. “You can’t be serious.”
Eddie thought his stomach had dropped out of him a while ago, at the first mention of your name, but he’d been wrong, because he gets that awful sinking feeling once more when he hears the front door close.
In the seconds that follow, everything happens both incredibly quickly and painfully slowly, the way a car crash does, or watching someone fall. You round the corner, footsteps softening as you tread over the rug. Nancy and Robin’s hushed voices stop. Steve throws something at the bin in the kitchen. He misses. Argyle and Jonathan shout. You look up from watching your feet, and your eyes find him, wide and unsure. Eddie dies.
Well, whatever he’s feeling is what he imagines dying is like. There’s a cacophony of sensations and emotions bursting from within his body: firstly, there’s nerves, taking the form of butterflies the way they always do when he looks at you. They’re followed by a wave, though, of shame and, later, dread. He shouldn’t be here. He thinks you have worked out that he shouldn’t be here. He can hear Robin’s slippers again, only they’re getting closer this time, and then she’s at the door, right by his left ear. He can’t tear his eyes off you.
She calls your name, once in a tone so soft Eddie’s surprised it came from her mouth, and then again, only more confused.
He sees her in his peripheral vision as she leans her head around the doorframe and finds him with his back against the wall. She gasps, a quiet, wobbly noise, and then Nancy’s there, too.
You’re still standing a few paces from him, damp socks on the rug, looking at him with an expression that he cannot read.
“Eddie?” you call and he wants to die, he seriously wants to die. The world should swallow him whole for this, spit him out in the pits of Tartarus, let Cerberus have his way with him.
“Oh, god,” he hears Nancy say slowly from her spot beside Robin.
“Eddie,” you say again. “What’s wrong?”
Your face has crumpled into something between concern and remorse. Something unspoken hangs in the stuffy air of the hallway, broken only by the sounds of trash can basketball happening in the next room.
“Uh,” Robin drones, “We’ll, uh… We’re just gonna-” She slides out of the room, past Eddie, pulling Nancy with her by the wrist. “We’ll be in here,” she says, more to you than to him, an unspoken declaration that says come find us if you need us, before disappearing into the kitchen and closing the door.
He’s still looking at you, and you’re still looking at him. You’re about as pale as he feels as he stands upright again.
“What happened?” you ask him.
“I, uh… Fuck,” he stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the top of his nose. He catches your wince at the curse and the aggravated edge it comes out with. “Uh… Nance and Rob, they were… They mentioned you, I might have… Overheard a couple things.”
He looks away from you as he admits this, that wave of shame more akin to a tsunami now. He’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have listened.
But he did.
“I don’t…” You’re fiddling, fingers winding around fingers, standing before him looking more lost than ever. He chances a glance at you and your face is twisted in confusion. And then it relaxes, mouth agape, as realisation dawns.
“Oh.”
Warmth crawls up your neck. It spreads like wildfire behind your ears, across your scalp, over your cheeks. Everything is hot, the room’s too small, the air’s too close; more than anything, Eddie is too close.
He watches you fidget. You step forward, and your face drops again, wincing like you’re standing too close to a flame, so you step back and turn, moving away from him quicker than he can process. His call of your name falls on deaf ears and ends just as the front door shuts again.
He hears the shuffling of many feet behind the kitchen door but ignores it, pushing himself off the wall and through the hallway. The space is like water, the pressure pushing him down, keeping him from the fresh air - and you.
When he wrenches the front door open he’s hit first with the smell of rain, that hollow, metallic scent. And then it mixes with something like sorrow, and he feels it burrow into his bones, a deep-set melancholy he wants so desperately to fix.
You’re sitting on the porch steps, your back to him, hunched over with your head in your hands. The way your shoulders move gives you away; Eddie’s at your side quicker than he can think to breathe, touching you before really checking that you want that from him right now. It doesn’t seem to matter; you lean into him like always. You hiccup and sniffle, face pressed into his t-shirt without thought, and his arm sits around your shoulder and his fingers press into your shoulder.
“I’m here,” he says, unsteady. “You’re okay.”
“I’m sorry,” you say into his chest. You lean back and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”
Eddie’s brain is working too quickly for him to keep up with, but he manages to tell you it’s okay. “I’m not mad,” he says, thumb pressing into your jaw, the pads of his fingers on your neck, checking you over.
“I’m mad,” you choke. There’s the hint of a laugh there and he can’t help but return it.
“That’s allowed,” he says. He’s surprising himself with how quickly he’s turned into something solid and reassuring. “Want a do-over?”
You look at him and he aches again, his nose burning. You’re flushed and your eyes are pinker than usual, and as his eyes dance over your lips he sees they’re wet from crying and ripe for kisses.
They twist into a smile and he decides that, for now, that’s better.
“Eddie,” you breathe, coy. You nudge him softly in the stomach with your elbow. “Fuck off.”
“What?” he laughs. “I can leave you out here, if you want. Maybe Andy will come save you from m-”
Your elbow hits his lowest rib this time, with far more force than before, and the gasp he pulls from you is almost comical.
“Eddie,” you hiss, “they did not-”
“Oh, Rob would set you up in a heartbeat.”
You groan and let your forehead fall to his shoulder. And it’s here, where he’s enveloped in the smell of rain and the feeling of you, that he feels something open in his chest, and he speaks before he can stop himself.
“He’s better than me, anyway,” he says quietly, fingers carding through the ends of your hair. “You’re too good for me. Some other boy would be better.”
“Other boys are boring,” you tell him, leaning back. Your voice is small and you can’t meet his eye but it’s the truth; he’s blind to it, apparently, but Eddie Munson is the only boy who has ever interested you. He is the only boy who listens, the only boy who sees you, the only boy you have any desire to know inside and out. You’re not sure you ever will know him completely, but if you spend the rest of your life trying, you’ll be happy doing it.
His fingers dance through the space between the two of you until they find yours, toying with the loose threads of denim at the frayed hem of your jeans. His bigger hand takes yours and you still can’t look him in the damn eye. You’d find a smile if you did, though.
He squeezes your hand and touches your chin lightly with the other, pressing the side of his index finger to the underneath of it to bring your face level with his own.
“Look at me,” he whispers. You obey, because it’s Eddie, and he’s so close and you can smell his uncle’s washing powder and the stubborn stain of pot and you love him.
“We could go for pizza,” he says, just as soft. “How’s Enzo’s?”
“You don’t have t’go fancy on me,” you whisper back. “I like Benny’s more.”
A grin splits his face and you match it, giggling.
“My girl likes burgers, huh?”
“Y’know I do,” you say, squeezing back. “Your girl?”
“Gotta take you on a date first,” he says. “Do it properly.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like a gentleman.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
Your breaths are one and the same by now, your mouths so close together that your vacant space has become his. Your eyes move between his eyes and his lips and you catch his doing the same, and there’s an ache somewhere between your legs that makes you pull your thighs together.
He dips his head just enough, thumb pushing into your chin to pull you closer. You let your eyes shut and feel his lips over yours, slow and distant, before you lean into him. He kisses you sweet, his hand smoothing over your jaw to hold your face like it’s made of gold, and he moves against you with certainty.
He’s determined and as his tongue meets yours you bend into it, relenting. It’s magic, just as you’d imagined all these years.
He releases your hand and grabs your waist in his firm grip. It starts to get slovenly, your hips against his thigh, his tongue everywhere, and your head’s starting to spin.
“You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you say, panting, smiling, pulling back from him to look him in the eye again. He’s all browns, dark lashes and darker irises, never wavering from your sight. “Thought you had to take me on a date first.”
“You’re too pretty,” he says, kissing you gently at the corner of your mouth. His breath blooms across your skin as he speaks. “Got years of not kissin’ you to make up for.”
His fingers dig gently into your sides and you suck in a breath that’s half a giggle.
“Gotta get back at Rob and Nance,” you say as his mouth moves over your jaw and leaves a mark somewhere beneath your earlobe.
He hums and leans back, saying his goodbyes to your skin with one last peck to your cheek, just below your eye.
“I think we owe them,” he says. “I do, anyway. Was never gonna get my ass in gear. Coulda lost you to Andy.”
“Never,” you say without a beat.
“Never,” he says back.
-
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#stranger things#eddie munson x you#stranger things 4#eddie munson requests#eddie munson request#eddie fic#eddie fanfic#eddie imagine#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader
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May we have some hc's for Bakugo with a flirty s/o?
I rise from the dead to post this and probably disappear for like another two years LOL but it's ok I'm rly into Bakugo rn :)
Bakugo with a flirty! S/O!
When he first encountered you, he thought you were utterly annoying
Especially since this 'encounter' was just him overhearing you flirting with damn near everyone in class
"You always make my heart float, Uraraka!" "Kaminari, you are electrifying"
"Anyone tell you that you are smokin'?" now they were directed at him, and if they were gonna be, atleast pull a good one out
But unfortunately like every other dimwit in class, you stuck to him like glue
and the flirts kept coming
"You really blow me away" "C'mon, just one date, I can feel a real spark between us!"
Your advances were frequent and terrible, but he learned to tune it out like he did with every other idiot he hung out with
Until he overheard Kaminari and Kirishima complaining one day at lunch while you were discussing an assignment with Aizawa
"Man it's not fair! She used to love me, now she's only all over Bakugo!"
This made him perk up, you only now did it to him?
He started paying more attention to your flirts, and realized they had become solely for him, and much more serious
"You have the most intense motivation, can I motivate you too?" "Eyes like those should be allowed to rest once in a while, don't push yourself too hard~"
The sudden attention and seriousness of it all slowly broke his walls, until you finally woo'd him into a date that he swore was out of pity
but that was seven months ago, and your relationship AND flirts are still going strong
"Babe, let's go out! I promise to keep my hands off of you~" "You look so amazing in your hero costume, I wonder what it would look like on the floor-"
Those ones get you a hand over your mouth as he drags you away from everyone else, his entire face steaming with embarrassment
But he won't admit he secretly craves your jabs, the confidence and pride he gets in knowing that you really think all of those things
And that you only say those things to him
He knows you will never stop saying them, he just hopes your wedding vows are somewhat appropriate
He loves all the flirtatious comments you make, the winks you send across the room
Until everyone makes fun of him for it, and he has to blow them up.
Gah I feel like this one is SHIT but in my defense I haven't written anything in like two years-
I realize I write in a weird mix of HC style and story style, my bad it's weird :3 Goodnight!
#mha#mha x y/n#mha fic#myheroacademia#my hero acedamia#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou#bakugo katsuki#dynamight#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugou#kacchan#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou
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Empty - Rolan x Tav Soulmate AU
hi hi hi! me and the wonderful, amazing @forgeofthenine decided to do a lil collab/prompt swap for the tiefling boys. it was so much fun to write and you definitely need to go see what prompt i gave her because oh boy i know it's gonna be cute. like scream into a pillow cute. thank you Bri for this collab idea i had so much fun and also totally didn't spend an entire work shift looking at pictures of Rolan's hands (because you know, inspiration).
my prompt was for Rolan + "Your soulmate's handprint is the first place they touch you"
(i'm totally going to edit formatting of this post later because it takes me forever to do so, so if you see it change, that's why lol)
Rolan could recall, with complete clarity, the first time someone touched the dark red handprint on his chest. He was barely a teen, not even old enough to truly understand the implication of a soulmate, when a classmate braced her hand over his heart. He remembered the way his chest tightened, how he couldn’t breathe as the taller tiefling laid her palm just slightly too left of the soulmark.
He didn’t need to look down to know it wasn’t a match. How many times had he pressed his own hand against his chest, trying to make his long, clawed fingers fit the much smaller handprint, so that he could burn the feeling into memory? Lia had said it was just fate, that the gods had someone better in store for him, but that didn’t lessen the sting – even if he wasn’t particularly fond of the girl.
He decided that romance was a fool's game, one that people like Rolan couldn’t afford to play. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. He had a family to look after, siblings to provide for. What good would dwelling on silly fantasies of love do him? It certainly wouldn’t put food on the table or a roof over their heads.
In the back of his mind, though, in the privacy of his own thoughts, Rolan imagined what it would be like to meet the match to his soulmark. It was bittersweet, a torturous pain that he reveled in, teasing himself with pretty fantasies of who his mate may be. They always stayed fantasies, though.
But then Elturel fell into Avernus. And any hope Rolan had of ever finding his soulmate was ripped away, like the ground beneath his feet that gave way to the fiery pits of the Hells. He felt hollow, empty. Even as Elturel returned to the mortal plane, the feeling never went away.
⸻
When Tav first came into the grove, Rolan was drowning in the emptiness. It was easy to pretend it didn’t exist when the world was going to shit around them. And he had all but mastered the art of walling himself up so that any blows to his brittle heart didn’t send it careening into the abyss he felt inside.
Rolan found that he felt different around her, though. He first noticed it at the party, as he and the Elturian refugees celebrated Tav and her companion’s efforts against the goblins. The cavity in his chest seemed to shrink, if only by a little bit. But it was enough for Rolan to breathe, to take a breath he didn’t realize he so desperately needed. It made him nervous, the way she easily was able to slip through the defenses he painstakingly constructed and take hold in his mind.
For the first time since Avernus, Rolan let himself imagine what it would be like to feel her hand against his chest, slotting into place over the red mark.
⸻
These temporary highs never seemed to last long for Rolan. Amid the broken grounds of the shadow cursed lands, as Cal and Lia were ripped from his grasp, the cavern in his chest swelled. It loomed large and insidious, and Rolan felt as though if he closed his eyes hard enough, he could fall into it. He hated it, hated himself, hated feeling so utterly weak.
And when the emptiness threatened to swallow him whole, Tav was there.
She returned to Rolan what he thought was lost to him forever. If he weren’t a coward, he would have grabbed her right then and there. He would have pulled her to him and apologized for the venomous words he spit at her in anger, would have thanked her for all that she had done. He simply uttered a tiny 'thank you' and let her go on her way, trying to ignore the way his chest shifted as she left.
⸻
If Rolan were a third party, looking at his life from unaffected eyes, he perhaps would have laughed at the misfortune that plagued him at every step. It truly never seemed to end. Just as he got his footing, arriving at Baldur's Gate and securing a place for him and his siblings to stay, the rug was pulled out from under him.
At least this time, the pain he felt was physical and not deep within. At least he had bruised and marks to show for it. At least he could put a name to his tormentor: Lorroakan.
Although he did have to admit that after everything he had been through, working as the whipping boy for an egomaniacal wizard was something he could handle. Or at least see through to the end.
And Rolan fully intended to stick through his apprenticeship, to become a powerful and renowned wizard, to ensure his siblings were taken care of. He certainly didn’t expect Tav to throw herself into the mix, killing the master wizard before Rolan had even been there a tenday. Though, he probably should have expected it.
She always seemed to show up whenever he needed her most, even when he didn’t want her help. Especially when he didn’t want her help. If Rolan was religious, he may have thought her a form of divine intervention. But he hadn’t prayed since he was a child and calling her work an act of the gods seemed like an insult to Tav’s capabilities. She was Tav, nothing more and nothing less. A woman who somehow knew him and what he needed, without even knowing him.
Perhaps that’s why she appeared at Ramazith’s tower one day, dressed in her casual clothes, under the guise of checking in. Rolan had taken on the duties as master of Sorcerous Sundries, and though things were better than they had been in so very long, the emptiness still gnawed at his chest, just as vicious as ever.
She was just as glorious in her street clothes as she was in her armor, but something drew Rolan’s eye to her hand, a part of her he had never seen uncovered before, always beneath a gauntlet of some sort. On it was a pink blotch that extended over her wrist, twisting around her arm like a snake. As they caught up, he found his eyes drifting back to her hand, tracing the outline of it again and again, trying to discern its secrets.
As Tav stood to leave, it clicked.
With one long stride, Rolan closed the distance between them, grabbing her wrist over where the soft pink shape marred her skin. His pull may have been just a tad too rough, causing her to stumble forward into him. She braced herself with a hand against his chest.
He didn’t need to look down to know it was a perfect match. And by the look on Tav’s face, she didn’t either. For a long moment they stared at one another, nothing but the sounds of quickened breath between them.
Then they were smiling and laughing and Rolan decided that if he didn’t kiss her right then and there that he may actually light the whole damned tower on fire. As he clumsily pressed his lips to hers, he couldn’t feel a lick of space in his chest. Just the fullness of his racing heart.
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Consider: Conqueror!Ghost fucking Princess Reader in her room, Soap chained up in a corner of the room, unable to help as his princess’ virginity is fucked away by this massive man who isn’t being at all gentle. Not even bothering to undress her or stretch her, just yanking her skirt up enough to have access and going right for it.
if i was ever gonna do something with this it would probably be like the first ghoap idea i posted but oh my god. this ask. like im fanning mysef babe
this would hurt guard!johnny soooooo bad :( he's literally dedicated his entire life to protecting the princess, has sworn to never marry, never have any kids, so he can be ready to die protecting her if it ever comes to that
and here comes conqueror!ghost, who slaughters the king and queen and takes the princess for himself. doesn't kill johnny for some reason, but lets him fight for a while :( johnny's bloody and nearly broken trying to protect the princess, and he just keeps getting up and charging at ghost, trying desperately to save you. ghost is literally playing with him, just knocks him to the side with a single blow
johnny waking up chained to the wall with a collar he knows they used for the king's hounds, stuck on his knees staring wide-eyed at the bed, where ghost is splitting his princess open on his cock where she's on her back with her knees pushed up to her ears. and at first ghost is looking down at her, but when johnny jerks forward and the chains rattle ghost's face turns to his, and he just smiles fucking viciously, every tooth showing, as he fucks her harder, hold her jaw wide open so johnny can hear her screams
and for ghost... having this pretty virginal little princess being split in half on his cock is heaven, but turning and looking at the big bloody guard getting his heart broken, knowing everything he's sacrificed is for nothing, that he's not strong enough to have protected his princess from ghost's brutality... it's that devastation that gets him coming inside the princess. pulls her off his cock and forces her to sit up, spreads her legs wide and fucks his come in and out of her with his fingers right in front of johnny's face. grabs her by the jaw and forces her to look, to see the way her guard watches her
johnny snarling and jerking at the chain, nearly choking himself, screaming and shouting every violent threat he can think of and swearing he'll tear ghost apart with his bare hands. and ghost just laughs, slips his cock back into the pretty princess and makes him watch her ride her conqueror's cock
side bar - i love ghost taking the princess' virginity in front of soap, but i also kinda love him forcing johnny to take her virginity. mutual noncon & johnny having to brutalize the one person he swore to protect? maybe ghost fucks johnny at the same time, shows him how to properly fuck since he's never done it before :(
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(Happy Easter! 🐇) Hiiii, in the headcanons you did about the reader who escaped for years, how long do you think it would take for the characters to trust their darling after escape attempt?
Have a wonderful day! 🫶
I will have a wonderful day(it’s 5:00 in the morning where I am) thank you
Warnings: torture
/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\
Feitan
Feitan will never trust you again your gonna be used as a slave for the rest of your life once he gets you back
He might give you privileges like cooking or having a bed back but when he has a meeting with the troupe your chained to the wall
If you ask him for forgiveness he’s gonna straight up cackle in your face and rough you up a bit
The only reason your aloud to cook is because he wants to eat without having to make food so you do it
Shalnark
Shalnark is gonna take a while and you may start to think you got his trust back early on you didn’t he’s just tricking you into thinking that so you let your guard down
He’s gonna keep you in a dog cage until he trust you again, a big dog cage with lots of fluffy pillows and blankets but still a dog bed
He might fully treat you like a dog for a while just to humiliate you, making you beg for food and water every time you wanted some, and you gotta drink and eat it out of a bowl to
He holds a lot of stuff over your head after that, you won’t suck him off to get rid of his morning wood? Remember how nice he was when you ran away, he could have been cruel
He just uses it to guilt trip you
Phinks
Phinks folds the quickest, hearing your little cries coming from the room he locked you in is to much and he wants to hold and comfort you
He doesn’t give you all your privileges back and he’ll never fully trust you again but it’s better then nothing
He expects you to put an effort in your “relationship” now including intimate situations as well, he wants you to do stuff not just lay there and cry
Illumi
Illumi was livid when you escaped and he was livid when he found you, your never gonna get privileges or trust back
He just uses you a an incubator for his heir until he has one and after he has his fairly large family your going on birth control and your just his sex toy that he uses for stress relief
He’ll let you have a knife for cooking which he also makes you do all off
He’s gonna be hitting you a lot more as well, if he didn’t do it often before he does now
Hisoka
You don’t get privileges, you don’t even get to eat most of the time, your his personal flesh light until he forgives and stops beating you up every chance he gets but your still his personal sex doll and your only job is to warm his bed from now on
He’ll let you freely use the bathroom and eat without begging but don’t take it for granted because he can hold a grudge
If you start asking for stuff again he might beat you up to remind you of your place again so just don’t
Chrollo
You better have enjoyed your little vacation because your never gonna see the light of day again, your tied up in his basement, attached to a little bed with access to a small kitchen and a bathroom but it’s far from freedom
He’s still gonna get you pretty dresses but they are only for him to see
He’s never gonna trust you, he’s gonna hold everything over your head from now on, he got you a tight skimpy dress that you don’t even like? Your gonna have to set an alarm because he wants to wake up to a blow job to make his morning wood go down
It’s not gonna be the worst but it won’t be nearly what it was before
©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hisoka hxh#hxh hisoka#uvogin#chrollo hxh#goes and snatches hisoka#hisoka#hxh chrollo#uvogin x reader#hxh feitan x reader#hunter x hunter feitan x reader#feitan x reader smut#yandere feitan#feitan smut#feitan x reader#feitan hxh#shalnark x reader getting high#shalnark y reader#shalnark x reader hxh#shalnark x reader smut#phinks x reader hunter x hunter#phinks x reader smut#phinks x reader hxh#yandere phinks#illumi x you#illumi x reader smut#illumi is everything#chrollo x reader smut#writing
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Hazband 2: Band AU
Buckle Up, Buttercups. This is gonna be looooooooooong.
-"Insider Bands" playing on VH666 streaming services on a computer monitor / TV screen sitting on the desk against the far wall-
Charlie: (laying on her belly on her bed and chewing her nails like a cartoon goat chews through a field of grass as she watches the TV)
Riff Rascal: Alright, dudes, dudettes, non-duders, and rock-aholics! That was Simple Plain's newest single "Why Are We Kids?!". Coming up next, our guy, our big shredder, our big bad-
????: Dammit, Riff!!!! Just get on with it!!!
Riff Rascal: Yo, sorry, boss lady! Coming up next, we have our expert in all things metal and shredding, Axel Steelgrave, conducting a super secret, super exclusive interview with one of Hell's latest and greatest! Stay tuned!
Charlie: (whines and plasters her face into the comforter) Fuck! I really messed up! I shouldn't have released that album, guys! What if Vaggie doesn't like girls outside of the metal scene?! Then I'm just the creepy, stalker, pop diva who messages her on Sinstagram every once and a while! And likes all of her posts! And comments on each picture! And-
Razzle: (trying to finish polishing Charlie's hooves after a full pedicure and hoof care) Baap?
Charlie: So? It was only ever mentioned once in a tabloid that she was once in a poly ship with a man and woman before. Nothing set in stone. Who listens to tabloids anyway? She said she was a lesbian in her last interview with Angel Metal Monthly.
Dazzle: (brings up a wide array of nail polishes) BaaaAaaAp?
Charlie: Yes! She messages me back almost immediately after every message I send her, but that doesn't mean the's interested in me. She hasn't been online in a week! (rolls over and flops onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm) Not since Katie Killjoy did that whole news segment on my new single music video and album.
Dazzle: (painting Charlie's hooves in a deep red hue called "Wicked Sinister") Baaaaaaap. BaaaAAaaap. Baap. (clicks his hoof in a way that's supposed to look like a sassy finger snap and blows heated air over the paint)
Razzle: Baap! (scowls) Baaap. Baaa. Baap!
Charlie: Thanks, Razzle. No, Dazzle. I really don't think this is some kind of rebound. I really started liking her during the Battle of the Bands gig over at the Jackpot Hotel and Casino. She was the first person who didn't openly laugh at me being there even though I was the only pop singer there.
-VH666 blares back with a heavy metal guitar riff-
Axel Steelgrave: Hey, good evening, everyone. How's it going? Tonight, we have a very special guest. (camera pans out to show Vaggie sitting next to Axel in an interview chair) Lead singer, guitarist, and rocking girl, Vaggie the Steel Vagina from Fallen Angels.
Charlie: WHAT?!?!?!?!?! (crocodile death rolls around in her excitement and falls out of bed, completely wrapped in a burrito, and worm crawls over to the TV) RAZZLE!!! DAZZLE!!! TURN IT UP!!!
Razzle: (salutes) Baap! (grabs the remote and turns up the volume)
Dazzle: (sad bleats as he looks at the mess of nail polish everywhere) baaaaaap.....
Vaggie: (trying not to snarl at the name) It's just Vaggie, Axel.
Axel Steelgrave: Oh, sure. Sure. Well, thank you so much for taking the time to come and see us. Not gonna lie. We were shocked to hear that you were coming out with a new single so quickly.
Charlie: (plasters her face to the screen) New Single?!?!?!?!?!
Vaggie: (blushes slightly) Well, I figured after hearing the Princess's new album and call-out, I should work on a reply.
Angel: (from behind the camera man) You wouldn't have had ta write and record a whole new song and music video if you just sent 'er a video of you jacking it all week! I've never heard dat vibrator work so hard in its life! I swear I smelled smoke last night!
Charlie: (squeals, gasps, and shrieks all at once and falls backwards)
Vaggie: (jumps up from her seat) Angel! What the Fuck?!
Axel Steelgrave: Well, well, well, I guess that answers my next question. I take it this new single is going to be good news for the Princess?
Vaggie: (still steaming as she sits back down and tries to compose herself) I know you have the video on hand. Why not play it and let the fans see for themselves?
Axel Steelgrave: I couldn't have said it better myself. (to the camera) With that being said, let's take a look at a sneak peek of Fallen Angel's new single: "Dear, Charlie - For Somewhere Better".
-Video cuts to some random point in the music video where Vaggie is standing in black leather skirt that has the leather ripped into strips in a hoola-skirt style, black halter tank top, thigh high leather heeled boots, and black fingerless gloves, holding and shredding a guitar. Angel is a pink, fabulous gay disaster on drums while one set of hands works a keyboard.-
Vaggie: (singing) We'll ignite. Still dreaming wide awake. On the hunt for "Somewhen brighter".
Pull me close now, and I'll dream until my dying day. Till we create a new "Somewhere better".
The promise of a life. Like a thousand suns inside my broken heart. I can see through your eyes. And embrace the flame that guides me through the night.
-Video Cuts back to the interview-
Axel Steelgrave: (freaking out excitedly) Wow! That's quite the statement! Good on you, Steel Vagina!
Vaggie: Vaggie.
Axel Steelgrave: Before we end this exclusive, is there anything you want to say to the Princess in case she's watching?
Vaggie: (Face falls briefly as her eye widens and a blush colors her face) Oh.... (shakes her head to compose herself, looks into the camera, and makes a telephone gesture) Call me~
Axel Steelgrave: (laughing) Alright! You heard it here first, folks. "Dear, Charlie" will be available on HellTunes tonight at midnight. Thank you all so much for tuning in. And, as always, stay rocking.
Charlie: (finally managing to unravel the blanket and sitting on the floor with a bright red blush) C-Call.... Her.... She wants me to call her... (jumps up and down like a teenager in a bad "not another teen movie" while holding Razzle and Dazzle's hooves) SHE WANTS ME TO CALL HER!!!! (pauses) How?! I don't have her number!
-DING!-
Charlie: (dives for her phone on the floor and opens a new Sinstagram message)
FallenAngelVaggie: Hope you got a chance to watch "Insider Bands" tonight. Talk to you later? Maybe over coffee? XXX-XXX-XXXX
Charlie: (takes a deep breath) SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Vaggie: (leaning against the wall of the VH666 studio, holding her phone against her chest, and taking a long drag of a cigarette)
Angel: Hey! I thought you were quitting! (yoinks the cigarette and plops it between his lips)
Vaggie: Dammit, Angel! I said I'd be done once my case is empty! (digs in her pocket and pulls out an angelic steel cigarette case) It still has four left! I haven't even lit up in nearly six months!
Angel: I know! Proud of you for that. That interview rile you up that much that you gotta wreck six months of hard work?
Vaggie: Ugh! (slams her back into the wall) You think Charlie got the message?
-squeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
Angel: (looks up at the sky towards the Morningstar Mansion where it looks like fireworks are going off on one of the balconies) Oh, I think she got it~
#VH666 is a parody of MTV or VH1 back when they used to play only music videos - wow did I just date myself with that#band au#hazband#chaggie#charlie#vaggie#angel dust#supportive big brother angel#metal artist vaggie#pop star charlie#punk rock charlie#part 2#Ad Infinitum reference#Song: “Somewhere Better”#Artist: Ad Infinitum#Song was adjusted to fit the narrative#Vaggie fits with Melissa Bonny so well#razzle#dazzle
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