#plants with daddy issues am I right?
Photo
Happy Father’s Day 2023!
In the second picture I tried to use two different art styles (watercolor and crayon) to create an invasive effect. To reflect the way the Mopples (Mob doppelgangers) infiltrate the real world like an alien/virus.
Did I pull it off?
#mp100 mob#mp100 shigeo#plants with daddy issues am I right?#fathersday2023#fancomic#art style#shigeo kageyama#water color#mob kageyama#fathers day 2023#mp100 fanart#fan comic#crayon#papa#art style mix#mob psycho 100 fanart#mp100 season 3#divine tree arc#brokkoli#fucking hell the brokkoli is alive!#mopples#daddy issues
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pt VI good omens s1e2, a totally all-inclusive summary i remember everything
i don't, that's a lie. i lie like aziraphale, rarely and badly but with great gaslight energy.
alright well let's not dawdle for 6000 years, i'll forget what i DO remember.
An angel named Gabriel who is not Jimbriel yet, so a foetus Jimbriel, gets into Aziraphale's bookstore and yells about pornography to keep humans from following him into Aziraphale's secret back chamber.
What they do there, I do not know. It is up to speculation. They talk and Aziraphale is flustered about Crowley, I think, but that's the whole show so far.
The intro sequence remains strange. Cartoon Aziraphale is an impregnated chicken, cartoon Crowley is the baby daddy.
There are witch hunters and they want to burn Agnes Nutter alive. I don't know who Anges Nutter is yet.
We cut to Agnes Nutter and I know I will never forget her. She is beautiful and a BAMF. A MILF. An absolute bombshell.
The bombshell part is literal. They set her on fire and she explodes, killing all those in a 100 metre radius. I want to be her.
I assume it is a witch thing, but then find out she put bombs under her skirts. I want to be her, but more ardently.
There is a book. She writes prophecies in it.
There are horsemen of the apocalypse, which I forgot was still happening. We are in present day.
War kills everyone. She is pretty. She is not Warlock, the kid whom Aziraphale and Crowley raised.
Famine is a sexy beast, and runs Michelin star restaurants. He likes tiny food. He is developing foodless food.
If there are others, I do not notice. There could be. There really could be. There probably are.
There is a girl who scribbles on the book from earlier. She grows up. I think she is War. I am wrong. This is probably a good time to mention to Tumblr that I have mild issues with facial recognition, which is totally not going to affect my understanding of what is happening at all.
She is named Anathema. That could be someone else. What is real? Not Neil Gaiman.
She finds the Antichrist and the Them, and they are all playing at a witch hunt. The Antichrist does not have an aura. Yellow is fear. Yellow is joy. I lose track of what is happening for several scenes.
Newt is works in an office. There is a power cut. Newt no longer works at an office.
Newt joins a witch hunt.
There is a delivery man. I think he is Newt. I am wrong. His name is something resembling Judy. It is an easy mistake, everyone's reaction to not-Newt-maybe-Judy is the same as that to Newt, deep protective love.
Crowley and Aziraphale steal a Bentley. Find a Bentley? I am unsure. I am too busy looking at Crowley.
Crowley speeds. Crowley likes speeding. They hit a motorbike that has maybe-Anathema. They pick her up and take her to a house somewhere. The Bentley plays Queen music. Everyone is very excited about this. Beepop.
Maybe-Anathema enters the house. This could have been before she finds the Antichrist. But if the show isn't linear I don't have to be either, I decide.
Crowley and Aziraphale panic a lot, but find time to eye each other hungrily and lovingly. They have priorities, and I respect that.
Crowley yells at his plants to grow better. He pretends to kill one of them. I cannot believe I was entirely right about my interpretation of that GIF. I am filled with confused anger. Later I find out that he is projecting how heaven told him he was a disappointment and threw him out. I am no longer angry. I am sad. This is an ongoing thing when it comes to Crowley.
A major plot point is Dog, the best friend of the Antichrist, having a face off with a fat tabby cat. Dog loses. It was doomed from the start.
Aziraphale gaslights gatekeeps and girlbosses. He assures heaven that everything is under control. It is not. That is okay. I think.
Heaven asks about Crowley. Aziraphale gets flustered. This is as per usual and he assures them that he is battling Crowley, who keeps him on his toes. I not-so-privately think that Crowley keeps him on his knees, really.
Things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Aziraphale's puppy eyes. He is a bitchy sweetheart. I love him.
More things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Crowley's sexy hips and shoulders and, well, everything.
The episode ends. I am still thinking about Crowley. I am always thinking about Crowley. Everyone is always thinking about Crowley.
This... this is all I remember. Have it, Tumblr.
#good omens#good omens summary#good omens mascot#good omens fandom#crowley#aziraphale#azirowley#aziracrow#aziraley#good ineffable omens#lgbtqia#queer#ineffable husbands#ineffable spouses#david tennant#michael sheen#crowley's hips and hair
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My Favorite Pose
ComPOUND Round 3 [Bucky x Fem Reader]
Minors DNI 🔞
Summary: First morning of your week alone in the compound with Bucky. He adds himself to your morning routine. ;) Established relationship. If you’ve been following the plot PLEASE STOP but your powers and vaguely why you stayed behind are revealed.
Warnings ⚠️: smut af, bondage, a lil rough but not too much, oral (m and f), praise kink, p in v, unprotected
WC: 1.7k??
It’s 5:30 AM and there are little to no off days even for low key weeks like this. I get up and walk to get the specially designed breakfast that F.R.I.D.A.Y. planned for me. If there is one thing I miss about my past life it was a big flavorful breakfast… well and my family not being the reason the rest of the Avengers are trying to save a population of innocent people.
Surprise! I’ve got daddy issues. That’s my whole conflict of interest that kept me from the mission. I can’t do it. I told them not to tell me who did it if they are gone by the end of it. No matter how much I’ve been burned by them I’ll still hesitate.
I take my last bite and walk to the training center. I try to quiet my mind with some yoga before I get into the intense workouts. As I move into downward dog, I feel Bucky’s two hands pull my ass to his crotch. He gives it a light squeeze that still hurts because of the marks he left on it last night.
“Downward Dog - my favorite pose. What are you doing up so early Angel?”
“You know that pet name can only stretch so far,” I stand up. He throws his hands up with a cocky grin.
“Sorry, it’s just so fitting. I haven’t seen them in a while. It’s kind of hot when you pop them out. You should give me a quick show,” he says with that grin somehow getting smugger. The lack of sleep I got last night really motivated me to remind him what got me here in the first place.
“Careful what you wish for.”
In less than a second I sprout my wings then clap them hard in front of me which sends him flying across the room. I retract them back in an instant. He gets up laughing and clapping.
“Woo! That is what I’m talking about angel! I would ask to see the other stuff but we don’t want to set the building on fire do we?”
I can’t control myself when my other powers ignite - literally ignite. While he playfully annoys me, I don’t think I could ever release that hell fire. My powers are not “biblical” but they sure are other worldly.
“I need to get back to it. There’s food in the fridge. Just don’t touch my meal prep,” I hate that sentence just left my mouth.
“I don’t want your meal prep,” he walks behind me with our bodies facing the mirrors and his hands snaking up and down my body. “I want you. If you wanna get some training in I can show you somethings,” he says into my ear while tucking my hair back. So unfair.
“I don’t have-“
“You see this?”, he picks up my yoga strap. Out of nowhere he runs in front of me to kick the back of my legs. We both fall to the floor. He has me pinned down and starts tying the strap around my wrists.
“This is called a constrictor knot. In the event you have a disobedient girl giving you attitude, this knot comes in real handy,” he pushes his hand up my shirt to grab my breast. He moves it back down into my leggings and starts rubbing.
“Fuck. I could do whatever I want to do to you right now. You’re so wet. I cannot wait to get my cock inside you.”
I feel his fingers slip in and out. I let out a whimper. The sounds of my wet cunt make him growl. With a loud grunt he rips my leggings off. His fingers are back inside me and moving with fury. His eyes are hungry and he plants his head between my thighs with force.
As his tongue moves around my clit, I let out some “Ah! Ah! AH!”s. I start thrashing my body from the pleasure. He takes his vibranium arm to hold my hips down making me immobile.
“Whatever I want to do to you. Don’t make me repeat myself again. Now what do we say?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl.”
He sits up to free himself from his shorts. I am towered over with his cock in my face.
“Get to work doll. Let’s practice some breathing exercises for your training today.”
He puts his cock in my mouth and I start to move my head up and down. His length hits the back of my throat and I cough choking on it.
“Such a good girl for me trying so hard. Now you’re getting that pussy filled.”
He pulls on the strap to lift me up for a sloppy kiss with my taste still on his tongue. He drops me to the floor again to pin me under him. In no time his cock is thrusting into me with a speed so fast it shakes my body back and forth.
“I’m really making you mine this week. I’m gonna fuck you in every room I can. Get ready to drop whatever you’re doing for me whenever I want.”
I need this honestly. Losing my body to him feels more comfortable than I ever thought it would. My helplessness to his pounding excites me with both safety knowing he’s the one doing it and anticipation for what he might pull next.
He pulls the strap up so that I mesh into a seated position with him. He pumps into me with an unmatched passionate kiss. His free hand runs through my hair and gives it a pull in the back. He releases a heavy breath and moan. I’m squealing as he hits my g spot and my clit rubs against his body.
“Fuck Bucky! You’re killing me!”
“Good thing we know you’ll go to heaven then.”
He turns me onto my stomach so that I’m facing the mirrors. I arch up my ass anticipating his next move. I grip onto the strap preparing to take him. He kneels behind me and picks my head up.
“Look at you catching on. Now watch yourself get fucked.”
He slams his cock back inside me and thrusts with power. My high pitched screams are music to his ears. He grabs my ass and slaps it back and forth a few times.
“I thought I was being your good girl?”, I tease.
“Don’t act like you don’t get pleasure from my punishments. You might be my good girl right now but doesn’t mean I won’t give you a reminder of what’s in store for bad girls.”
“Not fair,” I laugh. Wrong choice.
He flips me over swiftly. He pulls tight on the strap to put the end in front of my face. His grip tenses around it.
“You remember this? I decide what’s fair and what’s not. You’re all tied up Angel. You take what you get and believe me you’re gonna get it.”
He throws my arms down then smacks the side of my ass with his vibranium hand. There is pleasure in his punishments. His movements are the hardest and fastest I’ve felt from him since our first time.
“I’m getting close to giving you my next load. I’ve loved filling you up with all my cum and watching it drip out you. Shows you’re all mine. No one else gets this pussy but me.”
My body tingles at his words. I give him an affirming mhm. He grabs my face.
“I wanna hear you say it ‘Bucky this pussy is yours’ if you want this load. Sing me that beautiful song Angel and it’s all yours.”
“Bucky…,” he hits the spot again which throws me off track.
“Bucky this…,” he cues for the rest of what he wants to hear. He lifts my hips up and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I scrunch my face then open my eyes wide as I feel my own cum.
“It’s yours! It’s yours! I promise it’s all yours!”
Mmmmh! I feel his huge burst of cum in me. He pulls out and it was definitely the biggest load of all the rounds so far. My hands are set free with some mild brush burns. He grabs my hands and gives them each light kisses.
“I’ll be more careful next time bunny. You just get me too hot,” he groans. I get a kiss loaded with tongue.
What a wonderful first morning with him back!
#avengers smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#dom bucky barnes#marvel smut#winter solider smut#winter solider x reader#endgame#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barns x you#bucky smut#bucky barns x reader#bucky fic
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LET ME IN || elijah hewson
PAIRING: elijah x reader
WORD COUNT: 3.3k
GENRE(S): fluff, a bit of angst, friends to lovers, hurt comfort
SUMMARY: when your best friend turns up at your front door unannounced, you decide to find out why he's acting so strangely. what you don't expect is for some repressed feelings to bubble up to the surface.
WARNINGS: smoking, mentions of drinking + being drunk, kissing, eli has daddy issues oops
this is it y'all i've gone insane... he looked at me once and this is what happens. @boobyskeetz made me post this btw
It’s far along in the evening when you come home to find Elijah Hewson sitting on your staircase with his head in his hands.
He’s slumped over, leather jacket around his shoulders and a slowly burning, unattended cigarette in between the pointer and middle finger of his right hand. The sky is pitch black, the only source of light being an ancient lantern whose shine just barely reaches Elijah’s hair.
You’re shocked at the sight, to say the least, the heaviness of your grocery bags suddenly a faint background noise.
“Eli?” you move closer, albeit hesitantly, and your voice makes his head snap up.
When he looks at you, you fight back the urge to gasp. His eyes, half lidded, just barely glimmer in the faint light provided by the moon overhead, leaving room for his undereye bags to stand out. And they do stand out — so much that you almost don’t catch him stumbling over his feet ever so slightly as he walks over to where you’re standing.
Almost.
“Are you alright?”
It’s not a question, not really, but he winces either way. You stand close enough to see it, but immediately, his lips pull into a lopsided grin to hide his initial reaction.
“‘Course I am,” he takes a drag of his cigarette, and uses his other hand to take one of your grocery bags. “Just wanted to see you, that’s all.”
You nod, watching him drop the unfinished cigarette to the ground and step on it. You wonder how many he’s smoked today and consider asking, but decide against it upon realizing you probably don’t want to know. Instead, you let him take your grocery bags wordlessly, following him up the stairs.
It’s a short staircase, but you’re walking slowly – too slowly for your liking – and there’s a million questions burning on your tongue. You hold them back, mostly because you’re tired, but also because something in Elijah’s eyes tells you not to push.
He’s the one to speak first when you reach the right apartment. “Hey, your flowers are still alive.”
He’s referring to the roses he helped you pick out last month. It was a treat for yourself, for finishing all your assignments, and you had taken the whole ‘plant mom’ job pretty seriously, even putting the roses in a prettier vase and putting it on display outside of your apartment.
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “They’re holding up really well.”
Elijah waits for you to unlock the door, then walks inside with you in tow. He wobbles a little as he drops down his shoes where he always puts them — where he’s put them ever since you told him three years ago it could be his spot.
You watch him shoulder off his jacket and start organizing the groceries in the fridge from afar, slowly taking off your outerwear. It’s warm inside, and your skin feels like it’s about to be set on fire after being out in the cold for so long. You think of Elijah sitting on your doorstep. How long was he waiting for you?
“Mind if I take a beer?” he cuts off your thoughts and you look up to find him with his hand on your fridge, an inquiring look on his face.
Now the lighting’s better, and you can clearly see his face. The creases between his brows, the focus in his gaze, the stubble that he’s let grow just a little longer than usually. Whether that’s a deliberate choice or simple forgetfulness, you’re not sure, but it worries you. His state worries you.
“Suit yourself.”
Maybe you should have said no, you think as he takes a sip of the drink and you’re reminded of the wobble in his walk. He’s probably had enough to drink already. To be fair, though, Elijah can be stubborn when he wants to, and something’s telling you today is one of those days.
When everything is either in the fridge or in a cupboard, you and Eli wander into the living room, shoulder to shoulder, without much to say. It’s messy, and he scolds you playfully for it — like he’s not the guy whose dorm you have to clean each time you come over.
You join his laughter though, and plop down on your couch a little more relaxed than before.
“How long did you wait for me?”
This time you manage to ask him the question, and he shrugs.
“A couple hours.”
He lifts the beer up to his lips and empties it, the can blocking out his view of you and your widened eyes.
What the hell is going on? His gaze tells you nothing. It’s so indifferent it makes you want to rip your hair out, because no matter how much he wants to pretend spontaneously coming over at three am is normal, it’s not. Especially when it comes to him.
Sure, if it were Robert, you would’ve figured it was just him acting on impulse, but it was never like that with Elijah.
“You could have just called,” you say finally, a slight quiver to your voice. “You should have just called. You know that, right?”
He meets your gaze, but not for long; after a second it drops down to his lap, like he’s embarrassed. You hold your breath, awaiting an answer. His fingers drum against the side of the couch, but then he changes his mind about that, too, and brings his hand to scratch the side of his face. God, what is he even doing? Trying to see how long it’ll take for you to snap and throw him out of the apartment?
Suddenly, he sighs deeply, dropping his hands in his lap. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”
You can’t help yourself from scoffing. That’s it? He ‘didn’t wanna bother you’? Maybe you would’ve believed it hadn’t he shown up unannounced at your front door in the middle of the night.
You almost open your mouth to say just that, but stop yourself when Elijah looks up again, and his bloodshot eyes meet yours. Something’s definitely not right. You can physically feel it, the tightening of your chest, the anger somehow pushed to the back of your head.
“Why are you here?” you ask him sternly, keeping your eyes on him. This time, he doesn’t look away.
“Do you want me to leave?”
It comes out meek, frail, as he almost chokes on his own words. You’re taken aback by the shiver in his voice, the drop of his shoulders. He places the beer can on your table and you swear his hands shake — just barely, but enough for you to see and for your heart to clench in response.
You shake your head. “No, I want to know why you’re here.”
He laughs humorlessly, leaning forward in his chair. His hands are definitely shaking, but you’re not sure whether it’s from the alcohol or something entirely different.
You know this face on him — he’s bothered by something, but doesn’t want to admit it. He’s always been like this, ever since you met him at school and watched his eyes glow with the same sadness after his teachers told him he should work on his grades. It was the same look on his face, the same millions of feelings threatening to bubble over the surface.
The only difference seems to be that now, he’s got no cap in his hands to close the bottle.
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Wanted to talk to you ‘cause the lads are too much noise.”
You frown and send him a look of disdain. Perhaps this isn’t something you should push on him, but seeing as he just magically appeared at your apartment while drunk, you do have a right to at least inquire what the fuck is going on.
“If you’re going to lie to me, you might as well leave.”
Silence follows your statement; silence so loud you almost regret saying anything at all. He grits his teeth, and you swear you can hear it from across the table — though that might just be your brain playing tricks on you this late in the evening.
“It’s my dad,” he mutters finally, scratching his stubble. “Not that that’s much of a surprise.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing new, really,” he exhales, closing his eyes briefly. “Just, you know, the usual ‘you’re wasting your life by not going to college’ talk. Total bullshit, as always. The only thing wasted is those twenty minutes of my life I spent listening to him talk about it.”
You breathe out slowly, fighting against the urge to look away from his gaze. He keeps it on you, unwavering, but you don’t know what to say. It’s dangerous territory, one you haven’t ever entered fully, and the worry of hurting him pangs at your chest; the legitimacy of his vulnerability scares you and moves you all the same.
You bite the inside of your cheek.
“He’s just worried, you know. I would be, too.”
“Why?” his lip quivers and your heart sinks in your chest; so quickly it forces a sudden nausea upon you. “Because I’m not cut out for this?”
“No, Eli, that’s not what I–”
He cuts you off — not with his words, but with his hands gripping the arms of his chair to help him stand. It’s so abrupt your words die down in your throat, leaving a dryness behind. Hovering above you, he still looks small, like he’s fading into the light above; barely even present as Elijah but rather as some mass of feelings clumped together, ready to explode.
“Do really none of you think I can make this work?”
It’s the alcohol, you think, god, you shouldn’t have let him drink any more — how could you be so careless? But no, it’s not your carelessness or his, and you know that, even in this state of panic, it somehow reaches your mind — the revelation that this isn’t a random outburst.
It’s the fruit of a tree that’s been growing for a long time; the ripeness isn’t fake, even if you’re unprepared to pick it.
“Do you really think that?” he asks this quietly, his voice barely audible, but it feels like he’s tearing your skull apart with a scream.
Do you really think that? The very assumption, the very thought, disgusts you. The thought that you could ever believe he won’t make it — it’s so unnerving you let out a shaky breath.
A movement of your legs from underneath you and you’re standing. Your feet tap against the floor as you walk up to him slowly, like approaching a scared deer. He is scared, you realize. Your fingertips tingle with the longing to run your hands over his face, but you hold them back, instead answering his question.
“No.”
He blinks, and you say it again: “No,” and again and again, “No, no, no, no,” until it almost doesn’t feel like a word anymore and more like some sort of bandage wrapped around a bruised bone.
“Your dad doesn’t think that, either. He’s just worried because he cares. Because he loves you.”
He falls silent. “I’m not so sure.”
“About what?”
He doesn’t reply instantly. You look down on his hands, only to find that they’re still shaking, and take a couple steps forward. Elijah doesn’t notice, you think, or if he does, he doesn’t show any disdain for your closeness.
“About love,” he says finally. “Isn’t love supporting someone unconditionally? Rooting for them, no matter what? That description doesn’t really fit my dad.”
“I think you’ve got it all wrong.”
You suppress the smile that threatens to form on your face when he sends you a confused look, his nose scrunched.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you can support whoever you want without much difficulty,” you look at the floor, thinking of what to say next. “That doesn’t mean you love them. If you love someone, it means you’re willing to suffer through discomfort and pain to make them happy. You’re willing to spend your nights worrying if they’ve chosen the right path. You let them into your apartment at three am. That type of thing.”
Thirty seconds pass before you finally look back up, internally shivering at the way his stare bores into your soul.
“You…” he trails off, wincing like it’s painful. Uncharted territory, yet again — that much is obvious from how your heart bangs against your ribs. The silence in the room makes you worry if he might just be able to hear it.
You hear him inhale sharply, taking a step back so he can sit at the edge of your sofa. Following suit, you observe his eyes shining in the light, less red than before though still uncertain. His shoulder brushes against yours and you breathe in — he smells of alcohol, but it’s oddly comforting in the storm of your thoughts.
Elijah’s head turns to you.
“Have you… ever thought this is all for nothing? That I keep leaving the tour bus with more and more bruises for no reason at all?”
Your fingertips tingle again, and this time you do nothing to stop them from brushing over the back of his hand. It’s stupid, probably, but it feels right, his skin against yours. He’s warm, really warm, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest, even when he leisurely drags his forefinger down the side of your hand. It tingles, but you don’t move away.
Elijah’s hand doesn’t shake anymore when you interlace your fingers together. Finally, you get the courage to speak.
“I’ve held your hair back while you were throwing up, Eli. Tied your shoelaces after a tiring show. Corrected your lyrics until four at night so you could send them to your manager before dawn. I wouldn’t do any of that if I didn’t believe you were on your way to the top from the first time I saw you,” you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you look directly at him. “I wouldn’t do any of that if I didn’t believe in you.”
It’s silent after that. For a long time. But his hand sits clammily in yours like a pearl in a clamshell, and you hold onto it for dear life, praying he won’t slip out from your grip.
“Promise me you won’t stop.”
Your head turns, startled by the sudden statement. His gaze scans you from head to toe, lingering on the curve of your lips, then your nose and finally your eyes, where it stops and plants its roots. You feel it spreading almost like wildfire, the warmth that comes with it. You almost tremble underneath it, squeezing his hand a little harder.
“Won’t stop what?” you whisper, eyes wide.
“Letting me into your apartment at three am.”
His gaze drops in a manner someone might’ve mistaken for lazy, but you know him well enough to recognize the vacillation in his eyes. You feel his fingers shiver in your embrace, every breath strained.
“Why not?”
You move closer, only by a centimeter or so, but he senses it — all the cells in his body seem to tingle with the paradox of wanting to touch and wanting to run all the same. Maybe it’s the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe rather it’s the arbitrary comfort that comes with it, that scares him to death, but whatever reason, he feels like he’s entering a deadly storm.
And perhaps it’s the alcohol and he’s not thinking straight, but this storm appears more inviting than any sunny day he’s ever witnessed.
He squeezes your hand tighter and leans down until his lips are impossibly close to brushing against your nose. You feel his hot breath on your face, sparks dancing across your skin to the smell of cigarettes and whiskey and beer, his hand shaking ever so slightly.
“Because I still haven’t gotten the chance to let you into mine.”
You smile — a real smile that you no longer manage to hold back. He mirrors the expression, albeit softly, lines appearing in the corners of his mouth. Let me in. Hues of colors appear in his eyes just as his shaky pointer finger grazes your jaw. Let me in. He cups your cheek gently, his lips parting in a breathless exhale.
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
He does. Just when the clock shows 3:47am and your shirt feels like it’s sticking to your skin, he finally closes the distance between you.
His lips brush over yours — it’s featherlight and careful, but you accept it all and kiss him back nonetheless. You can taste cigarettes on his tongue when he opens his mouth. Suddenly, the clock’s sound doesn’t reach your ears anymore, and all you can hear is the beating of your heart inside your throat. His finger strokes your cheek and his nose bumps into yours, but it’s fine. It’s more than fine.
You breathe in the scent of him, bringing your hands to tangle themselves in his hair in a moment of recklessness. Yeah, you’ve definitely gone absolutely crazy — but that’s a problem to solve later. For now, you’re kissing Elijah Hewson.
You’re kissing Elijah Hewson. It’s almost a revelation that dawns upon you like the waves of a tsunami, knocking the breath out of your lungs. It squeezes at your heart, a drawstring closing around it, and you have to pull away to breathe, to examine his face, puffy lips and tired eyes, to understand the gravity of your situation.
“We just kissed,” you say, and your voice shakes even though you strain to keep it calm.
“Yes,” he affirms, like it’s nothing. But it is something, and his eyes can't hide that. “We did.”
“But you’re drunk.”
“You think that’s why I did it?”
“I don’t know.”
He smiles and you swear your heart almost leaps out of your chest. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
He looks at you for a moment – your messy hair, reddened lips, the hesitation in your gaze – and makes his decision.
In less than a second, he drops down to his knees and you’re about to protest (because what does he think he’s doing?) until he grabs your hand and holds it between both of his. You furrow your eyebrows to hide the fact that you’re taken aback, though from the glint in Elijah’s eyes you figure you’re not doing a very good job at it.
He looks at you, like really looks at you, and you look at him the same. The fruit lies in the palm of your hand and squeezes to the beat of your heart when he speaks.
“I love you.”
Your breath catches in your throat when he kisses your knuckles softly, and keeps them against his lips. “That’s why I kissed you, why I turned up to your apartment at three am, why I don’t regret it. Any of it. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Something pulls at the very back of your throat. You keep your mouth closed, but even that doesn’t stop a choked whimper from leaving you — a sound that makes Elijah’s lips quirk upwards. He smiles, and you attempt to do the same, yet all you manage is a half-laugh, half-sob that shakes though your body.
Embarrassed, you look down, and you can hear Eli chuckle before the warmth of his arms envelops you whole. He hugs you tightly against his chest, fingers coming up to stroke your hair as you partly laugh, partly cry into his shirt. And even though it should be humiliating, the act feels so powerfully comforting that you let him hold you.
“I love you too.”
You whisper this into his chest, breathing heavily. He pulls away and you look up, confused, but he smiles that gorgeous smile of his, with teeth on display and smile lines appearing, and cups your jaw. His eyes shimmer with undoubtable joy.
He doesn’t have to say anything. You know.
“That’s a fucking relief, huh?” he whisper-laughs and you join in on it.
“Yeah.”
And you smile.
He’s let you in, and you don’t think you’ll be leaving any time soon.
#inhaler#elijah hewson#elijah hewson x reader#inhaler dublin#inhaler x reader#inhaler imagines#ryan mcmahon#robert keating#josh jenkinson
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How I would re write Hazbin’s pacing issues (while still staying in the 8 episode time frame)
Fair warning, I did not proof read this and I’m dyslexic. So there’s probably a lot of spelling mistakes.
Ep 1: “ commercial day”
A sort of soft start, but it’s about all the current residents trying to make the commercial but it keeps going wrong because everyone sucks (/affectionate). A good way to establish and introduced the characters and their gags. A getting to know them episode. Charlie desperately trying to hold everything together and freaks out. She goes and locks herself in their room trying to figure out how to fix the situation. Vaggie sees this and makes the same deal with Alastor still. They make the commercial while Charlie is driving herself mad, and Vaggie comes to get her. Explains what they did and leads her downstairs to show her. The end gag still happens, but instead of the news cutting off the TV maybe Al accidentally short circuited the hotel lmao.
[i feel like we didn’t get a lot of time to establish the character and their relationships, so that’s what this episode is for. Specifically establishing Charlie’s fixation to make things right and Vaggie’s willingness to make things good for Charlie.]
Ep 2: “Happy day in Hell.”
A/B plot. Charlie gets a call from her dad to go to the meeting for him. (I specifically want a scene where she’s panicking about him calling, and sounding way to excited to do anything he asks before he even asks. Like “I need you to-“ “YES!…what am I doing?”). The B plot if focused on Vaggie being in charge for the day, and how horribly things go because of it. None of her ideas work, and she’s stressing about it. She’s tired and hopes to talk about it with Charlie when she comes back, only for Charlie to be pretty much in tears. So she swallows it down and comforts Charlie instead. They’re laying in bed together, and you THINK that’s where the ep will end, but it cuts to Lute and Adam talking about why they moved the extermination up. There’s a transition of wings moving to Carmela pulling the covers over her girls, and looking out a large window looking very worried.
[ok so I felt like Vaggie’s thing about not knowing who she is without Charlie wasn’t really earned plot wise, so I started planting the seeds here. Same with Charlie’s daddy issues, since I didn’t really get that vibe at all until they said it. I wanted to make her seem very eager to please her dad. Hints her agreeing to the meeting before he can even finish asking.]
Ep 3: “the masquerade.”
A/B plot. Starts off the same, pretty much. Up until the part where angel comes back out and demands she leaves. What changes is Charlie being much more reluctant to leave, leading to more yelling from Angel before he just lets out a very broken “please, Chars.” That (mixed with the nickname) is what gets her to go, glaring at Val as she leaves and then a shot of her feeling awful once she gets out the door. When angel gets back home, she tries to apologize. Obviously he’s not really in the mood, but she KEEPS pushing. Eventually leading angel to blow up at her, telling her to but out of his life. She takes a step back (literally and metaphorically) and apologizes. When he turns back to the bar, husk points out she’s only trying to help. Angel puts on the act again, saying he doesn’t NEED help and that his life is great. Husk calls him fake, they argue, and the rest of the episode plays out like before.
[Once again setting up more proof Charlie is more invested in people’s own problems then her own. Her being more pushy until Angel lashes out (and not just because his boss is there) makes it seem more legit to me. Also Angel using a nickname for Charlie to hint at him starting to see her as a sort of friend.]
Ep 4: “Video killed the radio Star.”
Another A/B. Ok so this one is going to introduce the Vee’s all together. Largely the same about that part, and Vox and Al still get their little duet. The B plot revolves around angel and his relationship with Val. Not episode 4 heavy but definitely serious. It also still focuses on Sir Pentious moving in, and how well he seems to be adjusting. Charlie is also putting a LOT of effort into him specifically because she feels scared of overstepping with angel again. This, combined with this shit we see Angel go through, has him feeling shitty. There’s a moment where he’s going downstairs to get a drink, but looks at it for a second before sighing and slamming the bottle down and walking off, leaving it untouched. When he’s walking back, THATS when he sees Pentious setting up the cameras, and the end pretty much plays out the same
[ok so we find out in like ep 6 that angel’s actually been trying to recover? I didn’t think they rlly showed that so I tried to add a little scene to show it, like him actively turning down the alcohol even though he’s in a shitty mood]
Ep 5: “the meeting.”
A/B kind of like so 3, ngl. The overlord meeting is largely the same. But also more alastor and Charlie talking before he heads off. Maybe the ep starts with him protecting the hotel like it’s some off handed thing, and Vaggie watching this a feeling…not great. SHE’S supposed to be the hotel’s protector. So she tries to send him off with the eggs, only to find out he had shit to do that day anyways. The B plot instead is focused on Vaggie feeling like she has to earn her place next to Charlie. Trying to take charge without Charlie asking and failing again. Charlie, trying to be a supportive girlfriend, tries to…well, support her! Unfortunately she’s having some issues with that, since Charlie dosent really like not being the one trying to fix everyone’s problems. This leads to Vaggie feeling even more frustrated because Charlie keeps trying to step in, which leads to their fight. Vaggie admiring she doesn’t know who she is besides Charlie’s bodyguard. And THATS why she’s been having so much trouble. The song plays, and they end up talking it out. Charlie immediately goes to comfort Vaggie, brushing off her own feelings as she does. Vaggie dosent noticed due to being so emotionally distressed and needing comfort herself. The egg part still happen where he tells Alastor what he heard. The Ep ends with Vaggie asleep on Charlie’s chest while Charlie is looks to be thinking. She sighs, pulls out her phone, and we see her hovering over her dad’s number, but she ends up putting her phone away and not clicking it.
[once more setting up Charlie’s and Vaggie’s respective issues but with the actual fallout. Also setting up Charlie calling her dad in the next episode. AND subtlety trying to set up the idea the Alastor seems to kind of slowly be changing?? Maybe???? Hard to tell). Anyways my point is Charlie and Al bonding to set up what happens in the next so and Vaggie’s reaction to their bonding]
Ep 6: “Dad beat Dad.”
Literally the same ngl. I rlly like this episode and thought it did pretty well, but could have been better with better set up (aka what I’ve been trying to do with the other episodes). (Also there’s a a background scene of husk offering angel a drink, and Angel waved him off and gets like a juice or water instead. Just another lil background example of angel’s journey in trying to do those things less.)
[Not much to add here really.]
Ep 7: “Welcome to heaven.”
A/B plot. An actual episode of Vaggie and Charlie getting to explore heaven. And by that I mean Charlie goes to explore heaven with Em and us actually getting to know her as a character. Maybe seeing how well they mesh, and Em explaining life in heaven to Charlie. Maybe as we get to know her we find out she really admires Sarah, and sometimes feels like she can’t live up to her. Partly because she sort of feels like Sarah treats her like a kid, and partly because of heavens impossible standards. But then she brushes it off easily, because she’s on HEAVEN, she had “no reason to complain!” The B plot would be about Lute and Adam finding Vaggie, and doing the blackmail thing. They leave her on her own to spiral after that, and we get the flashback of what happened as she thinks things over. All of this to be interrupted by knocking, vagging pulling out her weapon and pointing it at…charlie. She drops it and apologies a lot, and makes some excuses about just being on edge from being in a new place. Charlie sympathizes and tries to support her, and once again the episode ends with them holding each other
[Because welcome to heaven felt SO rushed, and because we actually need to know Em to care about her.]
Episode 8: “the trial”
Basically the same whole trial. Only instead Adam waits a lot longer to ask Vaggie what she thinks (like after they watched angel do all the things on the list) and instead running off to use the bathroom, she stands up for Charlie. Adam reveals that “that’s so funny, considering you didn’t seem to think so when you were out slaughtering them.” Which leads to both the reveal of Vaggie being an angel, and about the extermination. Charlie is hurt as hell, but does her duet with Em because it’s important to call them out. Slipping her hand out of Vaggies and standing tall as she does. The trial gets closed, they get sent back.
[Because Vaggie deserves more than running away saying “I need to pee.” ALSO because it’s been established she would go to great lengths for Charlie and I don’t think she would have just left her like that. Also because I feel like this makes a much better season final.]
End of season one.
#hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lilith#charlie hazbin hotel#vaggie hazbin hotel#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#nifty hazbin hotel#husk hazbin hotel#huskerdust#chaggie#lots of chaggie#I love them
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criminal (tiffany x f!reader)
chapter 1: the unknown society
warnings: or4l s3x, sort of triggering (daddy issues), possibly dying of how hot tiffany is.
songs used: no manners by superM
word count: 1.5k+
┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐
no manners.
your breathing was unsettled like the strongest of winds had knocked your lungs out. what was this terrifying feeling? you clutched onto your coat—which held your dignity underneath. shivers run down your spine as you walk in the cold streets of seoul.
footsteps begin to get close, or was it the voices again?
“daedanhan ireun aniji ibyeol mariya danji
seororeul galkameogeul i mami geobi naji
huyujeunge ppaetgil apeuroye nari
shwit sori eopshi dagawatji”
slowly, you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist. a minty breath lined your face with blush. you wanted to scream. you really did. but your body has a mind of its own. you relished in the feeling of being caressed in all the right places.
suddenly, you felt a cloth taking away all your senses. a drug kicking in, making you fall into the arms of the one holding your dignity together.
“will the clothes fit her?”
“why is the room temperature so cold here yunjin?”
“is she awake yet?”
you blinked, softly gaining your long-taken-away senses. you coughed as you breathed like you had been awoken from the dead. you looked at the two women in the room who stared back at you with a predatory grin on their faces.
the room held a scary violet color on the walls. white outlined the structure, while the plants hanging from the roof opposed. a strong scent of patchouli and peach filled the room. in the corner, an oddly architectured window looked back at you as the dimming moonlight shone in.
“why am i here? where is my coat? who’s bedroom is this? where am i? who are—” your questions seemed to stop once the white accented door opened.
a lady.
a lady with the most beautiful eyes had entered the room. her lips bright red almost like blood kissed her. her eyes held a sly but innocent glint in them.
her hands; as structured as the room.
“out of the room ladies.” her voice as cold as the room’s temperature.
she wore a tight leather dress that kissed every inch of her body. it complimented the aura she held. it was criminal that she made your body quiver just with that voice of hers.
the ladies rushed out the door and closed it behind them as they avoided any eye contact with the lady.
“hi there darling.” you were sure you had just gushed out right there. you looked down to hide the fact that your body was turning red from the pet name. only then you realized that you weren’t wearing anything under the covers.
you held the covers up to your collarbones as you slowly looked up at her with cheeks as red as red velvet.
“who are you?” it was the only reasonable question to ask in the moment after all.
“eoseolpeun baeryeo ttawin dwaesseo
naengjeonghi kkeutnaelsurok better
got no manners”
she ran her brown seductive eyes down your face, all the way to where the bed came to an end. her face never changed the predatory look it held. you were excited for what was to come to say the least.
“well, someone clearly has no manners. i’ll let you off this once i suppose, my darling. i’m your favorite nightmare, tiffany.�� and there she went again with the pet name. making you weak in all the right places.
she inched towards the bed without any hesitancy. she gently held your face in her hands, like a predatory waiting to attack its prey. tiffany leaned in. a rough kiss being placed onto your lips, almost sucking your soul out along with it.
“you taste just as sweet as i thought you would. do you taste like that everywhere?” she asked with genuine curiosity.
“taste like what?” you were confused as the haze from the kiss made you dizzy.
“peaches my darling.” she smiled.
“you’ll have to find out.” boldness filled your veins like a syringe.
her eyes turned dark. confidence raging through her like a train. she ripped the covers off of your body, letting your dignity display its vulnerability.
your body was splayed out like white swan. you had the softest skin tiffany had ever had the honor of touching. almost like aphrodite herself had envisioned your being on earth.
tiffany practically vanished her clothes off of herself as she got onto the bed, the pinkest of a pussy peaked at you.
“neon sumgiryeo halsurok tiga na
jinshimeul mushimko baetgon haetjana
sungani moyeoseo mandeun georigam
beoreojin gangeugeul jobhil jul molla”
“i have no patience for the things you say. spread your legs for me darling.” you did as she said. a cold tone leaving her.
you spread your legs as wide as you could. tiffany placed her frigid hands on your warm thighs, making you flinch from the sudden contact.
“i could fuck you all day if i had the chance to.” you blushed at her crass words.
tiffany bent down and headed straight for your clit—not letting you adjust to the sudden feeling that coursed through you. she moaned at every lap around your pussy.
“you feel so good tiffany.” you were too shy to tell her that this was your first time letting a woman go down on you. usually, it was you doing the favor. however, today, you weren’t exactly in a position to complain.
“fuck… you taste like the sweetest of fruits darling.” you were so drowned in the pleasure, you didn’t realize that your hands were laced in her dark brown hair that fell so elegantly as she stared at you from down there.
you felt a rush down your body and you knew you were close. tiffany really knew her way around women because how was it possible that you were already this close?
you jerked your hips into her face as your eyes rolled back and your back arched. the sweetest of syrups dripped down from her face as she let you ride out your orgasm.
“should've told you i’m the best at making women cum.” her shit-eating grin made you kick her in the ass.
“you truly have no manners darling.” she laughed as her eyes lit up from the childish act.
you rolled your eyes at her as your body slumped down. sleep swirled around in your system as your eyes slowly shut.
“maedalliji neoye maeryeok
you the answer, never question
urin eopji got no manners”
tiffany’s pov.
i was back in my dad’s office again. clearly he had something to tell me otherwise he would never even bother talking to me.
“what is it father? is there a blue moon outside?” i asked with sarcasm spilling out of my mouth.
oh how i miss your taste. your tastes’ remnants still linger on my tongue. i can’t stop thinking of you ever since that night.
“enough with the jokes tiffany. i have called you here to tell you that you will be getting married to namjoon’s daughter, y/n.” his face was serious, making me think back to the times when i was younger.
“but why?” i asked. i wasn’t against marrying anyone because this is all that ran in my family.
“there’s an unknown society invading this town. their plan is to take everyone away and convert us into demons of their own. to be specific, lilth’s messengers. therefore, you need to marry y/n in order to strengthen our society. consider it an alliance. y/n is the co-leader of the jaded moringstars, one of the strongest societies of our century. her father has been a good friend of mine since we were young and knows this is the only way to defeat whatever goes against us.” he finished off with a deep sigh.
“okay, if this is what it takes to save this town then i'll do it. but first, i want to see what she looks like.” i only wanted to make my father proud, so i accepted whatever he had to offer.
“good. i knew you would want to see what y/n looks like. so, she came over with her dad.” he pointed towards the door as they made their way into the office.
“it’s good to see you kiddo!” namjoon crushed me with a hug and placed a small kiss on my forehead.
“it’s good to see you too sir.” i bowed to him after regaining my composure.
“here’s y/n!” namjoon excitedly moved away to the side as i looked at her.
shit.
it was her from last night.
your pov.
fucking hell
it was tiffany.
you both looked at each other in shock as you two realized how fucked you guys completely were. both literally and physically.
your dad forced you two to hug each other, clearly hating the idea of it since you two had done something much worse than hugging last night. you hated how friendly your dad was.
tiffany slowly embraced you as you did the same for show. finding comfort in her arms.
“you still smell like peaches, do you still taste like them darling?” tiffany whispered as she left a peck on your ear. your face turned red.
ah shit.
peaches my ass.
this fucking asshole.
chapter two: fucked
previous | masterlist | next
#kpop smut#kpop x reader#snsd smut#snsd tiffany#girls generation#girls generation tiffany#snsd imagines#chapter 1#criminal tiffany x f!reader#Spotify
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would you be ever so kind as to spare some OL2 headcanons or crumbs 🤲🤲
If you don’t wanna write for OL2 then OLBA is just as amazing!!!!!!
Hi! I will eventually write for OL2 I'm sure, but I haven't gotten through the demo yet! Right now I'm at the beginning of the first day of school -- I keep getting pulled back into the first one because it has such a chokehold on me lol.
But I was writing these for OLBA so I'll put them here! Thank you!!!
-- Do you like trashy reality shows? Good for you. Cove's not really into it, but he'll watch with you if you want him to. Derek can definitely have some fun with it. But Baxter turns into a monster.
MC answering their phone: Hey, what's up?
Baxter: DID YOU SEE, *this person* from *this show* got arrested.
MC: Aren't you supposed to be working?
Baxter: I saved the mug shot to my photos, I am sending it to you via text right now.
(Client in the background complaining)
Baxter: I do have to get off the phone now, but if you hear anything else call the office and tell them it's an emergency, they'll put you through to me.
-- If you go the Derek romance route, I think you make out once in high school. Because hormones, you've crushed on each other for years, and like it just happens. And then after he's very unwell, he keeps apologizing, and either your really shy and nervous about it or like "no it's ok, that was nice," but either way he's like "HAVE TO GO, TTYL." He doesn't talk to you for a little bit but then feels bad.
MC: Derek, I like you in a romantic way. I want you to be my boyfriend. I liked kissing you and I want to kiss you again.
Derek: Haha that was crazy, so how's school going?
-- Derek is good with cars. Big muscles make car go vroom.
Like there would have been a time when you got a flat tire and you either didn't know how to change it or blanked on what Cliff told you (Cliff taught you how to change a tire, no questions) and called him like "help" and he dropped everything and drove to wherever you were to change it for you.
-- He's also good with mechanical fixes, and just with his hands in general. Is your sink messed up? Call Derek. Some issue with your stove? Call Derek. Creaky door? You already know. (You have to do stuff for him too though, that's the rules).
-- Back to Cliff though, you know those videos of men like "I'm going to teach you some dad stuff" for people who grew up without dads? That's Cliff. Obviously your moms are amazing, but Daddy Cliff is going to step in too sometimes.
-- Cliff teaching MC how to tie a tie, just imagine.
-- Baxter goes home alone after Miranda's birthday party/the second party for him and finishes off that bottle of champagne because he knows that summer's almost over and he's going to do A Bad Thing and he hates himself.
-- Honestly it hurt my feelings so much at the end of Step 3 lol, like I was genuinely taken aback by his goodbye scene. Asking MC why they'd keep talking when he couldn't give them rides anymore like that's all they were interested in, the audacity.
-- Cove has the whole game, he's gonna be ok, we're talking about other people this time.
-- In adulthood, MC looks back at that time they learned their birth parents died when they were a baby, had a quick breakdown then went back home and did a musical performance for their family as one of the cringiest moments of their life (I'm not using second person this time because I don't want to sound judgey but LOL come on). They'll tell Derek about it later on when they're together and he'll be like "aww, that sounds sweet," and Baxter will be nice about it too, but he'll also have some comments to make.
Baxter: Darling, my plant at the office seems to be dying, could you perhaps do a song and dance number to ease my pain?
MC: Shut uuuuuup.
-- Last week gb patch made a post on Patreon with a new sketch for OLNF with wedding planner Baxter, so like the oldest Baxter we'll see in cannon, and he was wearing a cream turtleneck, a purple overcoat, and what looked to me to be a peach colored gingham suit. So by the time he gets to be like 40, his fashion sense is going to be off the rails. He's going to call you and be like "I just went shopping, I hope you like my new look," and come home like:
#our life beginnings and always#olba#our life#baxter ward#cove holden#derek suarez#our life headcannons#our life cove#our life baxter#our life derek#cliff holden#olba baxter#olba cove#olba derek
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I just KNOW that all of the Papas enjoy musical theatre, so here's my headcanon about each Papa's favourite musical
Primo ⸸ Little Shop of Horrors
A classic
Funky tunes, spooky vibes and alien sentient carnivorous plants taking over the world, OF COURSE peepaw would love it
He definitely has at least one venus flytrap in his garden that he named after Audrey II
Secondo ⸸ The Phantom of the Opera
He may not seem like it, but he's a romantic at heart
In Papaganda, Special Ghoul said “Papa is from the same bloodline as Leonard Cohen and Dracula, Phantom of the Opera, all the Vincent Price's and Don Corleone's.”, so it's only fitting that POTO would be his favourite musical
The Phantom being a misunderstood, scary-looking, lonely, 'miserable old wounded bitter man' who just craves companionship and understanding? Sounds familiar.
Terzo ⸸ The Rocky Horror Picture Show
It's spooky and queer and horny just like him <3
Terzo (especially in the From the Pinnacle to the Pit and Square Hammer mvs) gives me the vibes of someone who would be into both witchcraft AND science alike, I can just picture him in his secret lab doing his silly little mischievous rituals and experiments and his gayass would DEFINITELY try to 'make a man to relieve his tension' (that's how he ended up summoning Omega)
I bet he made Omega dress up as Rocky (while he dressed up as Frank-n-Furter, of course) at least once, perhaps on Halloween (hc inspired by these two gorgeous fanarts)
Copia ⸸ Repo! The Genetic Opera
"Hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" [realizes he's bisexual AND trans right after watching this movie] I'm definitely not projecting WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT (also he took one look at Pavi Largo and said 'I WANT HIS GENDER'. No, I will not elaborate further.)
He has daddy issues, OF COURSE he would eat this up (and be super invested in Shilo's storyline in particular) again I am NOT projecting
A (shitty) father deeming none of his three children worthy of carrying on his legacy and instead leaving everything to an outsider (who's the child of the woman the aforementioned father loved in his youth)? Sounds familiar.
#yes this is just an excuse for me to combine two of my favourite things (the band ghost and spooky musicals)#the theatre kid to ghost fan pipeline#ghost headcanons#ghost#ghost bc#ghost band#the band ghost#papa emeritus#papa emeritus i#primo emeritus#papa emeritus ii#secondo emeritus#papa emeritus iii#terzo emeritus#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#musicals#niche posts that cater to me specifically#i've connected the dots (you didn't connect shit) i've connected them
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you could do better
Pairing: Bodyguard!Natasha x (afab) fem!reader
Word Count: 3k
Synopsis: When you act out one too many times, your father assigns you a new bodyguard - Natasha. But you aren’t going to make things easy for her.
Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT, smut (fingering FF), reader has daddy issues, reader makes out with a man, degradation in the form of slut-shaming
A/N: Day 7 of Marvel Girlfriend May!! A bit late lol. Life got in the way of this next part - but I am back!! Again, someone please STOP ME!! 3k for Natasha is not what I had in mind 😭 Reblogs are always appreciated!!
Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Natasha ❊ Taglist
The double doors to the office swing wide open. Your father is reclining in his office chair, like he always is when he’s pretending he’s not waiting for you.
Out of the corner of your eye you see her, your father’s new ‘bodyguard’. Natasha Romanoff. Always on the job. Her hard gaze never strays far from your father. She’s always just... around.
Meanwhile, the two times you have attempted to talk to her, she’s only ever given you a blank look, a practised smile, and simple one-word responses.
Infuriating.
You ignore her now, stalking across the room to plant your hands on your father’s desk. “I was summoned?”
He sighs, finally acknowledging you by pinning you with a disapproving look. “Have you seen the headlines?”
“I don’t care about what they have to say about me.” You glare right back at him. Seriously, you’re tame compared to most of the shit going on in the world right now. Another rich man’s daughter acting out, so what?
But your father seems to disagree. He pushes the newspaper in front of him across the table, flipping it around so you can read what it says.
ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST: Governor’s Daughter Goes to Club With One Date, Leaves With Another
“You made the headlines this time.”
You scoff, pushing it back. “Who even reads this shit?”
“Voters.” His finger stabs at the newspaper as he leans forward. “My voters read this shit. When are you going to understand that you cannot behave like this?”
“So get up the newspaper!”
“I can't control what the media prints!” he snaps.
“But you can control me.” And there it is, the crux of your relationship. Anger burns through you. “Fuck you,” you say, turning to leave.
“I’m assigning Natasha to you from now on.”
That stops you in your tracks. Gasping, you blink up at her. The gorgeous, silent woman that has been the star of one-too-many fantasies of yours late at night when you’re alone. Her perfect curtain of red hair fanned out on the pillow - no. Not her.
She gives you that same blank look that you can’t decipher.
“Seriously?!”
“Yes, seriously.” His tone is so patronising. “She will watch over you for me. Keep you from appearing in any more headlines. You are to do what she tells you to, do you understand?”
Your hands curl into fists. Yes, you understand exactly what this is. No more privacy or freedom. No more choice. You glare at Natasha openly, daring her to test you.
She doesn’t react, her expression as even and blank as ever.
Your blood boils the longer you stare at her. Her fierce beauty simultaneously intimidates you and infuriates you, and you try and wrap your head around the concept of her being your bodyguard from now on - watching over you, ordering you around. You push down the unexpected heat stirring between your legs.
“I said, do you understand?” your father interrupts, the sudden sound of his voice making you blink and look away.
All you can manage is a huff in response - how long were you staring? You brush past Natasha and stomp down the hall to your room.
A quick glance behind confirms she’s following you now, because of course she is - she’s yours now, although it feels more fitting to say, you’re hers.
Reaching the doorway to your room, you whirl around to shut the door behind you.
She reaches you seconds later, slapping her hand on the door, preventing you from closing it. Her face is up close now, and it steals your breath for a moment. You can see the light reflecting in her eyes, her stern brows drawn as she angles her head at you. “I need to check your room.”
It’s the most words you’ve heard her say, and you let go of the door in surprise.
She stalks inside.
You back up out of her way on instinct, feeling strangely jumpy, like you’re prey, backed into a corner. “I don’t agree to this.”
“No,” she agrees, “but your father does.” And she smirks at you.
You fume in silence as she checks your quarters. She takes her time exploring each room - the entrance, the bedroom, the ensuite, the walk-in-closet, and the study.
Finally she appears in the central room again, looking down and typing something on her phone.
Your phone buzzes. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from an unknown number.
“Now you have my number. So you can call me if we get separated for any reason.”
Her number. God, it’s literally just for security, and yet your face is embarrassingly heated.
“Fine,” you agree, looking down at your phone in shyness. “You’re not staying inside with me.” There’s no way you will be able to handle her presence in your bedroom all night.
Her response is annoyingly smug. “That’s fine. I have a key.”
The lock clicks open with ease. Natasha eases her way into the office, days of opening these doors for your father the perfect practice to learn to avoid any squeaking of the hinges.
It’s 2:30 in the morning. The office is pitch black, save for the tiny flashlight Natasha uses sparingly to find her way to the desk.
The comm buzzes gently in her ear. “Agent, report.”
“Just setting up.” She perches on the edge of the office chair and opens his laptop, the screen light blinding as it turns on. Like she has done every night, she inserts the usb and begins transferring the data from the last day. “Transferring now.”
Watching the files transfer is not exactly thrilling. It’s completely silent in here, nothing but her and the voice in her ear. Her eyes dart around the room, already cataloguing every item decorating the space and comparing it to her previous visits.
A strange feeling of being watched washes over her, just as the transfer finishes.
She looks up just in time to catch it - movement in the hall. Shit. Her hands flex over her thigh, reassured by the cold touch of the gun strapped down. The icer might get some use tonight.
Take the USB. Reset the laptop. Her body works silently on autopilot while she takes in her senses, catching every creak of the intruder’s footsteps, calculating how far they are down the hall.
Done.
Adrenaline pumps through her veins and she wastes no time, leaping over the desk, slipping into the hall, and pouncing on the intruder before they can react.
They give a muffled shriek as she lands on them and pushes them to the floor.
“Please don’t kill me!”
It’s you. She realises it just as she stops herself from falling, her face only inches from yours. Strands of her hair fall between you, a light caress against your cheekbones. Your delicious scent fills her lungs. Fuck, how much did you see? “What are you doing out of bed?” she growls.
You glare up at her, and her instincts flare at the accusation in your eyes, right before you confirm her suspicions. “What were you doing in there?”
“My job.”
“Didn’t seem like it.”
“What would you know about it, princess?”
Your reaction to the pet name is adorable - eyes widening, jaw setting, and your struggle renewing against her grip. But the name fits you perfectly. You are undisciplined, attention-seeking, and entitled, and aside from your father, no-one has ever told you no.
Pinning you down is satisfying in that way.
Shock flares - how quickly you’ve gotten under her skin. She needs to maintain control of the situation. So she shifts her weight on top of you, gripping your wrists above you in one hand, and gripping your throat with the other. “You will keep this quiet.”
“Why?” you breathe.
She tilts her head, a slight shake of her head in warning. “You don’t want to find out.”
“O-okay, okay fine.” You swallow, gaze briefly darting down. The lush press of your body against hers is making her body react in ways she isn’t prepared for, a twinge of desire stirring between her legs at how flustered you appear. “Let me go out.”
Nat blinks. “What?”
Your voice comes out more uncertain than before. “I won’t tell anyone, if you just - ”
“This isn’t a negotiation.”
You fall silent beneath her.
Good. Getting you in trouble is the last thing she needs... and more partying is the last thing you need. Your background check is proof of that - all those pictures of you hanging off the arm of whatever lucky bastard happens to catch your eye night after night.
It isn’t the amount that she disapproves of, but the calibre. Clearly you seek the kind of people who let you walk all over them. The kind of people who give you what you think you want, and not what you actually need.
You could do better.
And the thought of standing by while you go out again, having to watch from the shadows while you let someone else put their hands on you...
She pushes off you as a pang of sudden jealousy overcomes her. “Come on. It’s late, you should be in bed.”
“Where are you going?” Natasha calls from behind.
You pause at the front door, hand on the knob. “Out.”
She’s on you before you can react, taking you by the forearm and pulling you away from the door. “I don’t think so.”
And the way she stares at you, ice cold, almost makes you lose your nerve. Especially now you know what she can do. You spent the entire day locked in your room, freaking out about last night. This woman could kill you before you even saw it coming. She still might.
So why the hell are you still turned on?
You force yourself to breathe steady, to recall your plan. “Should I go ask dad?”
Her eyes narrow.
Yeah, you’re calling her bluff. You’ve had time to think. If she wanted to kill you, she would have done so already. You hold up your phone in your free hand and shrug. “I could call him right now. Tell him all about it.”
“Don’t.”
Your breath catches. “Excuse me?”
A muscle feathers in her jaw. She shakes her head at you, and drops your arm. “I’m coming with you.”
“Wait, I didn’t want - ”
“Either I come, or we don’t go at all.” And she pins you with a look that leaves no room for argument.
You lower your gaze and nod in agreement.
She hates your dress.
Hates the way it fits you so damn well, the way it shows your skin, the way it practically invites people to look at you. The way she can’t stop herself from doing.
The only thing keeping her from dragging you right back to the car is the conversation you had on the way over.
“Rules, seriously? What am I, five?” you had scoffed.
She had just nodded. “Stay within sight of me, don’t accept drinks from anyone you don’t know, text me every hour, and if you want to go somewhere private with someone, check with me first.”
You snorted. “So basically, I need your approval over who I sleep with?”
“Yes,” she’d responded a little too quickly.
You had folded your arms, leaned back in your seat, and glared silently out the window.
The act was submissive, and yet she could see the gears turning in your mind. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, equal parts wary and fascinated to see what you might do. This little game of push and pull you’ve started playing is strangely thrilling.
The club is dark and noisy, complete with flashing lights and a dance floor in the centre. Natasha sticks to the shadows, assessing the room every few minutes, taking note of everyone and everything.
Her gaze snags on you again - standing by the bar as another man tries his luck with you.
She folds her arms, trying to push away that same sick feeling of jealousy at the sight.
This job is killing her. Over a week of playing the dutiful bodyguard is getting to her, especially now, dealing with you. But it should be over soon. Only a few more days of babysitting, and hopefully the team will have enough information to proceed to the next phase.
Her phone buzzes, and she finally pulls her gaze from you to check it.
It’s your father, asking where you are.
A sigh escapes her. What the hell is she supposed to say? “Sorry, I took her out to a club against your express wishes”? How do normal bodyguards deal with this shit?
The best answer is a fast one. She bites her lip and types out a response, sending it before she can second-guess herself.
A text comes in moments later, but this time it’s from you. And it’s a photo.
Brows furrowed, she opens the image, and almost drops her phone at the sight. It’s a selfie you took of you being pushed up against a wall and kissed by that guy you were talking to.
A line of text follows the photo.
Permission to fuck him?
Fucking hell.
Grinning, you turn your phone off and try and lose yourself in the man kissing you.
You don’t know why you did it. She’s going to be so incredibly mad at you.
But really, what can she do? Unless she wants you to tell your father everything, she can’t do anything.
“You’re so hot,” the man groans, grabbing your ass as he kiss you harder.
“Thanks,” you giggle, and your phone buzzes in your pocket. “You sure we won’t be found in here?”
He nods. “Yeah, I always bring girls back here.”
“Oh.” You frown.
The mood shifts back to frantic kissing and touching. He grabs all over you, shoving his tongue down your throat.
And it’s flattering, it really is, but your mind is elsewhere - imagining her doing these things to you. Your phone vibrates as more text messages come through.
“You need to get that?” the man asks.
“Huh? Oh, no.” You pull him in again, and you try, really try, to forget about Natasha. To drown the thought of her with each new kiss.
It’s not working.
He pushes you against the wall again, and his hands go between you, unbuckling his belt.
You lick your lips.
The door suddenly slams open. And then he’s pulled off you, yanked out of your arms before either of you can react.
“What the fuck?!” he yells, turning around to throw a punch at the intruder.
Natasha easily dodges, taking him by the throat and throwing him in the direction of the door. “Get out,” she snarls.
He backs away, wide eyed.
You clutch at your chest, trying to slow the fast beating of your heart.
Natasha shuts the door behind him, before turning to glare at you. “You broke a rule.”
You swallow.
“He had his hands all over you.” She stalks towards you, keeping you backed up against the wall. “You let him touch you.”
You stiffen. “What the hell do you mean by that?” You’ve never seen her look... mad.
She leans in, her nose nudging against yours. “You are a thorn in my side, Princess.” And you feel her hand skimming the hem of your dress. “Letting anyone between these legs.” Her hand traces up your bare thigh, shivers radiating from her touch.
You gaze drops to her mouth, the sensual curve taking up your vision while you focus on the sensation of her hand.
She takes your panties and rips them off with a sudden jerk, the material tearing.
You gasp, looking back up to meet her eyes.
Dark heat swirls in her furious gaze as she stuffs your panties into her pocket. “Spoilt fucking Princess.”
And suddenly you feel her finger pushing at your entrance. Your thighs clench together on instinct, but she’s relentless, pushing her finger inside your soaking wet channel until she’s filled you up.
You whimper.
"Is this what you let everyone do? Fill you up like this?” And she begins to push and pull, fucking her finger up inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again with deadly precision.
“Yes,” you breathe.
She snarls. “That will change.”
Oh god, you could come already. The wet heat between your legs is growing with each thrust of her finger. “Natasha.” Your heat falls back, hitting the wall.
And she follows the movement, the heat in her gaze transforming into something utterly possessive. She inserts a second finger. “You answer to me, Princess. Do you understand?”
You nod, biting your lip.
She growls, taking the back of your neck with her free hand and pulling your face against hers, fiercely kissing you.
And you’re coming instantly, falling apart just like she said she wanted, your pussy clenching on her fingers.
She consumes your sounds of pleasure, kissing you in a way you’ve never been kissed before. It’s utterly dominating, leaving no room for any question of who you belong to.
Her.
She kisses you and fingers you until you’re so sensitive you’re begging her to stop.
And she finally pulls away, only to lift her fingers to her mouth and suck.
You watch in fascination as her eyes roll back, and she purrs at the taste.
Your pussy clenches over nothing.
When she’s finished cleaning her fingers, she removes them from her mouth and meets your gaze. Some of the heat is gone, but the way she looks at you is different now. Warmer, clearer, and... dominating.
“What’s going to happen now?” you ask stupidly. She’s turned your mind completely blank.
She smirks, glancing down at your panties falling out of her pocket. “That’s completely up to you, Princess.”
#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#natasha x reader#mcu x reader#marvel x reader#flashing gif#natasha romanov x reader#sil's writing
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Here's an idea that I thought was interesting. Can I get something for billy getting together with his s/o right before his "date" with mrs.wheeler. and while she's relieved that he didn't show up to the date she's also a really salty that Billy's giving someone else attention and not her
hot, hot, hot. your mind? incredible. i'm also trying to thin out requests!! look at me go!!
Mommy Issues
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 3.1k+
note: i think i burnt out towards the end of this, so, my apologies. plus i wrote this and only gave it a once over so forgive any typos or mistakes.
warnings: cursing, small angst, small comfort, Billy's a dumb boy doing dumb boy shit, reader has emotions, insinuation to unhealthy relationships (both romantic and familial).
"Where's Billy tonight, honey?" You mother asked, setting your dinner plate in front of you; your body turned to the side to feed your baby twin brothers from their plate of potatoes and peas with applesauce.
"Oh, uh, thank you," you nodded at her, glancing at the full plate your stomach was growling in approval of. "And honestly? I don't know, we got in this fight this morning, he started to act out, and I haven't talked to him since."
She sighed pointedly, "What was the fight about this time?"
You shrugged, feeding a bit of mashed potatoes in the mouth of your baby brother. "Nothing specific," You sighed, not wanting to entertain the conversation any longer. You knew your parents just searched for ways to beat Billy down, belittle your relationship, and you weren't going to be the reason they add fuel to that fire.
"Mhm," she eyed you while she hummed before sighing. "Well, you know you're much too young to deal with this kind of heartache, but you don't like listening to anything your father and I have to say about it. Speaking of which, I have to work the night shift again tonight, and Daddy's gonna be a little late coming home, okay?" She pet over one twins' head, then turned her sights on you, "So, you're gonna babysit until 11, when your father gets in."
You sighed, noting the way she told you instead of asking you; figuring it wasn't all bad before nodding stiffly, "Okay, Mom."
She nodded and set the dishes in the sink, moving along to finish getting ready before rushing in to kiss all of your foreheads and then dart out the door. You pushed some of the Mac 'N' Cheese around your plate, chasing the green beans with your fork, lost in your thoughts while your brothers honestly just played in their apple sauce. You didn't care enough to stop them because you were reliving your fight with Billy...
• nine hours earlier // 9:12 am •
"You're still on that?" Billy scoffed, leaning on the sign-in desk at the front office of the public Hawkins Community Pool. His hand was planted next to you, weight leaning on his hip, but his eyes were raking over you in judgement.
"Billy," you groaned, rolling your eyes. It was common for you to go to work with Billy when he was the only one on call to open the pool; meaning nobody came in till the afternoon when kids were arriving in larger numbers for the long summer day.
"What?" He snapped, standing up straight to stare at you then. It wasn't a glare, yet, but still, very intimidating. "You wanna bring it up, let's fucking talk about it."
When his arms crossed, you know it wasn't going to be a conversation and that his mind was already made up - yet, still, you tried.
"All I asked was if Mrs. Wheeler and her band of middle aged ladies were still making come-fuck-me-eyes at you?" You sighed, rolling your neck out as your legs swung deftly from the countertop.
"What does it matter?"
"Maybe I'm uncomfortable with it," you admitted with a sheepish shrug.
"Baby," Billy sighed.
"No, seriously," you argued, "it's not cool that they're flirting with you like that - knowing you have a girlfriend, and especially when that girlfriend comes to see you at work," you felt your eyes roll without your vocation. "Then it's right in front of my face, Billy, that's really not cool!"
"Okay, but I'm not doing anything with or to them, so, doesn't that count for something?"
"Not when they're always thirsting over you!"
"But I don't do shit - "
"Well, you don't tell them to stop, either!"
Billy full-on laughed at you, "You really that insecure? I thought I was dating the untouchable, un-fuck-wit'-able queen bee of Hawkins?"
Your glare solidified, "It just makes me uncomfortable, I didn't say I was insecure about it."
"You obviously are if you're worried about them!"
"Why can't you just respect this!?" You snapped. "Seriously, Billy! I put up with more than enough from you, but your current Mommy issues shouldn't be my burden to bare this heavily! So, I'm telling you, as your girlfriend, their incessant flirting is making my skin crawl."
"What do you want me to do exactly?" Billy snarled.
"Something! Anything! Maybe I want you to want to do something about it!"
"What makes you think I want to do something about it, though?"
"Why're you being so Goddamn stubborn?" You finally snapped, feeling desperate; chest ready to cave in from anxiety.
"Because you're so Goddamn sensitive!"
"Why does it make me sensitive when women twice our age are flirting with you!? For fuck's sake, sometimes even in front of me! How is that supposed to make me feel, Billy!?"
A throat cleared behind you, making Billy's eyes flash over your shoulder and steel - just like his jaw. You hopped off the counter and turned swiftly on your toes, spying Mrs. Wheeler, and Holly, standing there, both looking nervous for some reason.
You gulped and avoided both their eyes, feeling your own burn with frustrated tears. Billy huffed a bit and pushed the clipboard up to the ledge to let Karen sign in, the two hustling along quickly after that. They were only the beginning of a long line, making Billy mutter in your ear, "Keep your fucking voice down when I'm at work."
"Are you going to take me seriously?"
"Not likely, because you're upset about nothing," he rolled his eyes, moving towards the exit so he could take the lifeguard post; leaving you to man the front desk until Heather got there. How you got roped into this, you weren't sure, but luckily, the brunette girl was hustling through the door within a minute, and you were shuffling off to the locker rooms there after - fighting off tears the entire time.
• five hours earlier // 1:42 pm •
You swore he was doing it to piss you off now, as if strutting around, winking at those women, making flirty comments in passing, wasn't bad enough; but now he was full-on flirting with Mrs. Wheeler? To her face?
You watched their 'private' conversation, and how he bent with her to grab her towel when she dropped it out of shock from whatever came from his lips. You felt anger brewing to a new height and the level of disrespect was now astronomical that you wasted no time in shoulder your bag after shimmying only into your shorts, following Billy's retreating form to the office again.
"What the fuck is your issue?" You growled at Billy when you made it to the counter. The only thing between you both.
"What're you complaining about now? Fuck, you on your period or something?"
"Seriously? God, you're such an asshole trying to blame your bad behavior on my bodily function! Billy, what were you and Karen gettin' all cozy about?" You snapped, annoyed by his attitude.
"Maybe I asked her out, maybe I just like making a grown woman get all flustered, or maybe, just maybe, doll," he leaned over the counter to get in your face, lowering his tone to a sneer, "it's none of your Goddamn business. Hmm?"
"You're fucking pathetic," you sighed sadly, turning on your heel and storming away.
"Where're you goin'!?" He called after you. "Hey! I'm talkin' to you!"
You offered him the middle finger salute as you stormed through the office and out the doors - making a beeline for your car, and then slamming the door shut. You saw Billy pushing out of the doors from your rearview mirror as you pulled out of your parking spot, tears free-falling down your cheeks at a rapid pace.
"HEY!" Billy shouted at your car, but otherwise slowed his gait. You peeled out of the parking lot, and when you got home, you were instantly overwhelmed by your emotions that you let your sun-soaked-being coax you into a warm, slumbering nap.
• present // 6:43 pm •
And now? Now you were elbow deep in twin boys' dirty diapers, wondering when you became their mother, and letting your anger fester. But you didn't have time to dwell, your baby brothers needed your attention now, and you knew they wouldn't get it from your mother or father...
After cleaning up their diapers, you got them in their baths; then into fresh jammies, and down in their cribs with their blankets and stuffies all around them. You drug the rocking chair over their carpeted floor to then read them a story; rocking slowly as you read through a chapter of The Fellowship of the Ring.
Hey, they were babies, they didn't know what was happening; and they fell asleep faster if you read! Normally, it took about four to five Dr. Seuss books, but only about a chapter from an actual novel for them to knock out. When you were done, you realized it was well after 7 pm now, and you figured you'd get some work done.
After turning their baby monitor on, taking the paired monitor with you, then making your way to the kitchen again. After cleaning up the dishes and countertops, you settled the leftovers in the fridge before grabbing a pudding cup and making yourself comfortable on the couch. After flipping through a few channels, you settled on the local news broadcast, polishing off your dessert, and sighing sadly into the pillow you kept to your chest.
Sometimes around 8:15 pm, your doorbell rang, and a fist was then pounding into the wooden door - making you spring to attention and rush through the foyer. Without glancing through the window, you wrenched the door open, snarling, "You outta your mind!?"
"Hello to you, too, pretty girl," Billy smirked.
"Fuck's sake, Hargrove!"
"You still mad?"
"No - this is a new anger! I just put the boys down for the night, can you not be so much of a jackass that you wake them up!?"
Billy sighed, "All right, I uh... I deserved that."
You glared, "What're you doing here?"
"Can I come in?"
"No, 'cause I can't promise I'm not gonna yell at you," you snipped, pushing him back a step to let you shuffle into the sandals at your door; then out the door, shutting it behind you. "What?" You asked, arms crossed, showing him you were just as defensive as he was earlier.
"Baby, listen," he sighed, "I thought about it all and realized you were right. Really pissed me off with that 'Mommy issues' comment, but I realized you're right."
"About?"
"I was projecting some issues, and while I wasn't exactly doin' anything, I didn't tell those old ladies off. And..."
"And?" He sighed, rolling his neck out. But before he could, you eyed him up and down, asking, "Where were you going tonight?"
"Huh?"
"Tonight - where were you going? Before you showed up here? Why're you dressed up, and - " You stepped forward a bit and inhaled sharply, "mhm, thought I smelled it - you have your good cologne on!"
"Baby," he sighed in exasperation now. "I gotta admit something... And you're not gonna be happy about it."
"Hmm? What?"
"I made a date with Karen tonight," he sighed.
"Woah - woah - woah! You did what now?"
"Hang on," he begged, "just listen to me for a second, please. I was feeling spiteful and resentful, so, yeah, I fucked up, and I wanted to see how far she'd go... I think pushed too far."
"How far exactly did you push, Billy?"
"Got as far as to inviting her for... Private swim lessons tonight..."
"What? Where?"
"The motel... Off the highway?"
"Are you asking me or telling me? And you were gonna take her to where you and I used to meet up because my Daddy didn't like you, huh? Wow, nicely done. Why are you even telling me?”
“Because I can’t have secrets between us, and I feel really guilty.” Well, you weren’t expecting that answer; readjusting your defensive positioning. In turn, Billy shifted his weight, "Yeah, baby, look, listen to me, please, I know you must be feeling a lot right now, but I didn't show up there."
"Oh, so I should praise you right now? For doing the one thing you're not supposed to do in a relationship!?"
"No! Fuck," he sighed, looking annoyed for a moment as he ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, look - "
"No, I think you should go now."
"I'm not leavin' here till we work this out," he refused. "Doll, listen to me - "
"No, you listen. My boyfriend decided to prolong a fight, knowing I was uncomfortable, and then what? Wanted to rub in my face that he's still a hot piece of ass that can bag a woman in her 40's? Maybe even her 50's, but whatever," your eyes rolled.
"I know I fucked up - "
"Understatement," you crossed your arms tighter, cocking your head to readjust your glare on him.
"But look - I didn't show up. I came here, because this," he gestured between us, "means more to me than anything. Alright? You can choose what to believe, but the truth is, I could've easily showed up there, done things with her, never speak a word about it, but I came here because you mean more to me than anyone else. In this town, in my life, anywhere - it's you, baby. So, you take your time to figure out what you feel, but I still want you, and only you. These other women be damned. So," he sighed, your eyes refusing to meet his as tears surfaced, "I'll leave you to it, but just know, I'm so fucking sorry."
Truth was, you hardly ever heard Billy apologize for anything and knew he felt real guilt over this whole thing.
When Billy sighed and turned to head off your porch, you reached out to grab his wrist - but still couldn't meet his eyes when he turned back to look at you. "I... I don't want you to go," you admitted meekly. "Look, it felt like you were looking for reasons to give the attention that you usually pay me to anyone else who even so much as blinked at you, and I hate that, because, the truth is, I hate saying it, but I want you to only pay me attention. I've spent all day being angry and in my feelings, that now, I don't want to be alone, and I want to spend time with my boyfriend... But I'm still mad at you."
You heard Billy sigh and turn to face you directly, stepping closer to slide his hands around your waist. "Baby, you gotta know how sorry I am."
"Well, I'm sorry for my part - "
"No, don't do that," he sighed, tucking you further into his chest as you deflated slightly into the meat of his pectoral. "Don't apologize when you didn't do nothing but have feelings about whatever fuck-shit I was doing."
You sighed and let your arms slowly wrap around his waist, "You know I hate it when you do stupid shit like this."
"I know, and I'm really sorry," he sighed, tightening his hold when he felt your returned grip. "I got sensitive when you said I had Mommy issues, and you... You might be right," he sighed before kissing the top of your head. "Got defensive, got all hurt, and I think I just wanted to hurt you, too."
"That's not healthy..." You let go to gently pull from his grip, "Look, Bee, maybe this isn't healthy anymore. I-I don't know if it ever was, but right now, if you're looking for reasons and ways to hurt me, maybe that's a sign we're not loving each other the way we should."
"No, no, hey, don't say that, hey," Billy stepped back up, taking your cheeks in hand, "I love you more than anything. Okay? You hear me? I love you, baby, and I'm not goin' anywhere. But I'm gonna do better, I promise, this isn't gonna be us anymore because you deserve so much better... I'll do better."
You sighed slightly, "Bee..."
"C'mon, baby, don't do this - not right now. Look, we're both feeling emotional, and I just - I know I just broke your heart with my stupidity, but let me try to make this right. C'mon, please."
Never had you heard him say 'please' so often - knowing Billy wasn't the one to beg for anything. Except maybe pussy, but that was another matter entirely.
Before you could reply, the baby monitor started to blare with your twin brothers waking up - wailing - and making your head turn back to the house. You sighed lightly, looking back at your boyfriend, "If you take George, I can take Phillip."
"Whatever you need, doll," he promised, pausing your form to press his lips to your forehead. "I'm really sorry."
"I know you are," you assured softly, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together to lead into your house. Within 10 minutes, Billy was standing with George and Phillip in his arms; the babies both reaching their grabby hands into his long, curly locks, but they had stopped crying finally.
You smiled softly as you got new jammies together, the boys apparently soiling their old ones after the applesauce disagreed with their little tummies. And Billy, well... Billy was all too happy to bounce the boys on his hips, looking far too mundane for your comfort for just a hot second. When you were ready, he helped you get them both changed and comfy again before picking up George and rocking him while rubbing his back - mimicking what you were doing with Phillip.
And to your shock?
He took a seat on the rocking chair and eased you into his lap, listening as you read aloud another two chapters before the boys finally settled. And the moment they were asleep again, he was lifting you in his arms, standing, and easing the two of you from the room. You dropped your book in your room before you were both settled on the couch; Billy sitting upright in the corner, letting you lay on him, the TV illuminating flashes of light across you both.
Both his hands stayed on you, running along your flesh in an effort to keep you close. And during the commercials, his lips would find bits of your flesh, until slowly, you were dozing in his arms.
Turns out, by the time your father got home at 11:37 pm, both you and Billy were asleep on the couch; him laying flat with you nuzzled between his body and the back cushions. "Ah, hell," you Daddy sighed softly to himself, offering a soft smile. "That boy, mh-mh-mh, God love 'em," he chuckled lightly, locking the door, and turning the kitchen light out on his way upstairs to his room.
He figured any other time, he'd wake Billy and tell him to get gone, but tonight was long for everyone, and so long as the boy was gone before your mother got home - it would all be fine.
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x f!reader#billy hargrove one shot#billy hargrove fic#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#billy stranger things
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Happy Father’day 2023! #2 --> Reigen’s comment edition
Again, here the dopple art style effect. I gave Reigen a new tie and also gave it the art style of the invasiv Mopples. like... they have already infiltradet his core.
By that, he is also the Subject that holds the two styles of art the closest together.
#happy fathers day#fathers day 2023#plants with daddy isshues am I right?#fucking hell this brokkoli is alive#eat your vegetables#fathersday2023#mopples#mob psycho 100#fanart#fancomic#fan comic#all hail psycho helmet#crayon#water colors#daddy issues#divine tree arc#divine tree#psycho helmet#arataka reigen#reigen arataka#shisho#shigeo kageyama#kageyama shigeo#gonna cry?#shigeo#mp100#art style#art stlye mix#akira reference
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Match-up event - Jez
(Nyx and I decided to match each other up for lols)
Let's go. I'm twenty, agender (afab), somewhere between bi and pansexual, poly and somewhere under the aromantic umbrella. Don't mind any pronouns in particular. I want one match-up with a human and one with a ghoul (let's see how you handle it babes). I study writing, might pick up a second major in journalism, dunno yet. Theistic satanist. Monsterfucker. Mask kink af.
I'm 164 centimeters tall (I'm not looking it up in feet). I've got a soft tummy and pretty good ass (lmao). You know how I look like, though I am planning to dye my hair blue.
They're not done yet, but I wanna include this anyway: tattoos. I'm not including any that could guide you to a potential result :p
Little cartoon seal on my right arm (for my sister)
Little cartoon panda on my right arm (for my brother)
Spider-Punk emblem on my left shoulder
666 under my left collar bone
A little plague doctor on my right arm
Also planning to get a shit ton of piercings all over my body. (Not just face and ears if you know what i mean), but that's for later. I like getting my nails done, usually to colors are symbolic or just a reference to something.
I usually wear skinny jeans and hoodies with some weird print. I love oversized hoodies, they are like my main source of comfort. I have chains attached to my pants, and I love wearing too many necklaces. I usually have ghearrings (the ghost crosses) in my ears and another one on a chain around my neck. Also wearing a Baphomet (like the goat head in a pentagram) necklace, a pride heart one, a matching besties necklace with Vic and occasionally a choker. I do occasionally do all out, wearing a white dress shirt, black skinny jeans, a leather jacket and the listed jewelry with my favorite rainbow sneakers and round sunglasses. With lots of rings, mostly something skull/plant/occult themed. Always silverish color, never gold. I don't like gold.
Outside from Ghost, I mostly listen to rock and different kinds of metal. And FNaF songs.
I was a Creepypasta kid. Aside from Polish and English I speak some German and bits of Italian, but very little. I can read most arabic letters (as in I know what sounds they make).
I have lots of different posters on my walls and I have stickers on my furniture because I grew up too fast and I'm catching up on my childhood now. I've got mental issues, including but not limited to autism, ADHD, depression, anxiety, mommy issues and daddy issues. I like calling them my pokemon.
I like writing (though I barely have time for that) and re-watching Total Drama (watched it 8 times just this year) since it manages to keep my attention, something most movies fail to do, which is why I barely watch anything. I get bored very easily. I play the Sims 4 a lot, but I can't build in it for the life of me. I'm amazing at building in the Sims 3. Big fan of Assassin's Creed (I don't like the new ones, though, since it doesn't feel like AC anymore to me). I own many true crime and paranormal activity books, though I can barely read at this point. I like manga, though. Currently collecting the Soul Eater series. I love plushies. I got a new one today. Their name is Pyza. (Yes, they're enby, I even got them a pin)
I know way more about butterflies than I should. I know lots of useless trivia in general. Most of it disturbing. I'm tired 24/7, but my body either wakes up before 7AM or after 6 hours exactly and it's impossible for me to fall asleep again. My room is usually a mess, but that's okay, so am I.
I'm a total introvert, but I'm also so tired with life I forced myself to become the extrovert of the group. I'm really loud if I like people, although my affection is usually random touches on someone's arms and shoulders with a strange noise. I make noises. A lot.
For some reason, babies love me. Even though I personally dislike children. I love pets, though. All sorts of pets. Cats, dogs, snakes, spiders... Anything. If I can pet it, I want to pet it. I love moths from the attacus family, I mean just look at this gorgeous girl!
As for my personality, aside from daily mental breakdowns, I'm relatively chill, just... Very unhinged. I talked about Secondo's dick piercings in McDonald's. Compared to the shit I say, Terzo's an angel.
I think that's all. Have fun babes <3 - Jez
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Thai QL Favorites!
Tagged by: @benkaaoi (I miss our watch parties bb! 😢)
Credits to: @thatgirl4815 for the Thai BL Favorites Tag Game!
Favorite QL:
My Tee. It's hard to quantify what exactly equals favorite, so I'm going with the Thai ql series I've rewatched the most. My Tee is my comfort series. It has its issues, but it's not boring or as confusing as the people on mdl would have you believe. I enjoyed the low key, humorous, slice of life, coming of age story. The ending admittedly leaves much to be desired, but the Mork/Tee parts of Our Skyy make up for it.
Favorite Pairing:
As in acting pair or CP from a series?
For established acting pair it's a toss up between EarthMix and KhaotungFirst. Both acting pairs seem to genuinely be good friends which is probably why they have great chemistry. I might have to give the edge to KT and First because I think they're both better actors individually.
For a couple from a series it's gotta be Fighter/Tutor. Why R U was one of my early forays into "spicy" Thai bl so Fighter and Tutor have a special place in my heart. Many spicy Thai bls later, I still think their UST/physical chemistry is one of the best. Honorable mention goes to my favorite fluff couple RamKing who was just barely edged out by Tutor's obsession with Fighter's adam's apple.
Most underrated actor:
I don't follow Thai ql closely enough to know who is underrated or overrated. I'm just going to say Drake Laedeke because I wish GMMTV would stop doing him dirty and give him some lead roles. He was decent in My Tee and has been great in his supporting roles, so I think it's about time he got another shot at ml.
Favorite Character:
This one is really hard. I'm going to cheat and say it's a tie between Noey from I Will Knock You and King from My Engineer. Does King count as a main character? I adore Noey for his quirkiness, loyalty, and (over) confidence. The way he bossed Thi into falling in love with him. 😅 I love King's curiosity, persistence and patience with Ram. I also find his spacey, plant loving, dog fearing self very cute.
Favorite Side Character:
My poor long suffering Gap from Triage. 💙 I loved his friendship with Tin and with the rest of the hospital staff and while I am still salty about being robbed of seeing SingGap become bfs, I still love my sweet, exasperated Gap.
Favorite Scene in a BL:
This scene healed my soul. I Told Sunset About You was such a heavy series that I needed this scene so much. It felt like all was right with the world and I believed in true love again.
Favorite Line in a BL:
My mind is totally blank and I cannot think of any profound lines. Instead, the only thing that comes to mind is Praram's "Brother that isn't a brother. Just like how daddy doesn't really mean father" from This Is Love Story. 😅
Most Anticipated BL (and why):
I waited too long to do this, all of my anticipated bls came out already (Laws of Attraction & I Feel You Linger In the Air). I guess now I'll pick Sunset Vibes because I am ready to watch MosBank play assholes that deserve only each other again. I am anticipating a most wonderful trash watch. 🧡
Healthiest Relationship in BL:
Saen and Aii from You're My Sky. Saen took it slow with Aii and respected his boundaries. They talked about their problems and tried to meet each other halfway. And they were just all kinds of adorable.
Most Toxic Relationship in BL:
Pok and Tong from Gen Y/Gen Y 2. Threats? ✅ SA? ✅ Manipulation? ✅ I remember thinking damn these bitches are so toxic when I was watching Gen Y, but I was also a bit mesmerized by their toxicity. 😅
Guilty Pleasure Series:
Guilty pleasure implies that the series needs to be bad, but what's bad? One's trash is another's treasure. A lot of people rag on My Tee, but I like it, so does that make it a guilty pleasure? It doesn't feel like it. I guess I will go with Big Dragon. I can understand why people think it's awful, but I loved it.
Most Underrated Series:
I really want to pick You're My Sky because it was a pretty well done uni/sports bl that got very little attention, but I'm picking He's Coming To Me because it's a very good series that doesn't get enough love. The ghost story part of it was both touching and funny and the investigation/non-bl plot was interesting. Ohm's acting was great too.
If this wasn't restricted to Thai QL, this would have been a lot harder and a lot of my answers would be different I think.
I never know who to tag for these things. If you see this, consider yourself tagged.
Edit: I tag YOU @victooooorious
#tag game#my tee the series#you're my sky#he's coming to me#triage the series#big dragon the series#en of love
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The Buck and the Fox - Introduction
howdy, this is my first time EVER posting fic on this site so expect it to be a little sloppy. I wrote an intro to a longer form fic that I am currently working on.
The Buck and the Fox: part 1/?
Summary: as Arthur makes his way back to camp following his hunting trip with Hosea, he faces a decision.
Tags: no romance stuff yet, just some of Arthur's thoughts. Immediately follows "Exit, Pursued by a Bruised Ego". SFW.
little angst, daddy issues, in game media.
Staying for that bear should have been a fool’s errand, but after seeing Hosea all but cower behind a rock from it, Arthur felt a pull. Something seemed to call to him to hunt the beast. Maybe for Hosea’s sake, maybe for pride, maybe for something to do besides rob and steal and lie. Hell, he could even sell the pelt.
The whinnies of Ares jolted him from his thoughts.
“There, boy,” he muttered, pulling a carrot from his bag. “”Ere ya go.” Ares whinnied again, content with the treat. He’d earned it, lugging that gigantic bear pelt on his behind.
Arthur wondered what Hosea would say. Would he get scolded? He doubted it, not from Hosea at least. It had been his idea to go on the hunting trip, after all. Dutch might be cross, but he’d probably change his heart once he learned how much the pelt would sell for. Arthur wondered, silently, if he should sell the pelt in Valentine before he returned to the camp. Would Hosea be upset? What would Dutch prefer?
A curt “good mornin’” from a passerby jumbled the questions in Arthur’s mind. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he reached subtly to his revolver. He could feel the man staring at the giant pelt at his back. A past Arthur would’ve robbed the man first, but Dutch had warned them not to stir up trouble. Not after the shitshow in Blackwater.
He finally rode up to a sign, next to a bigger sign that spelled NEW HANOVER in rocks on the mountainside. Well, at least he knew he was in the right direction - Horseshoe Overlook should be due west. The smaller sign had one arrow pointing to Valentine to the right, and one to some place called “Emerald Station '' to the left. He was puzzled at first - where the hell is Emerald Station? - but saw a sign for Flatneck Station below it, in the same direction. Ah. that’s where home is …er, home is near. Flatneck was where the gang was getting their mail delivered, under their perpetually-needed pseudonym.
He paused. Sell the pelt in Valentine, or save it for camp? Money for Dutch, or a pelt for Hosea? Both of the men he considered his father, and both had raised him and taken him in when no one else would. When he was just a 13 year old boy with a knife, his father’s hat, and blinding rage. He looked up to them both, but Hosea had a certain gentleness about him that Arthur loved.
Arthur got off Ares and hitched the war horse by a tree, setting his sights to the horizon. He pulled out his journal and a pencil, and sketched. Plants and trees and clouds took shape. The pelt was a unique one, and likely worth more at camp than money would be. Besides, the sheer size of it made Arthur want to hold onto it - maybe Pearson could make something out of it. A gust of wind blew the page backwards.
“Goddamn-” he started, in a whisper, before falling silent. The page before him was a detailed drawing of Hosea. He glanced at the note beside it, and closed the journal, not even bothering to finish sketching a duck on the next page.
“There, good boy,” he muttered, feeding Ares a sugar cube. Arthur figured the steed deserved it, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to spoil his horse. The answering whinny brought a smile to his face - Arthur had known this horse for less than two days, and already felt like he’d known the stallion all his life. He patted Ares’ neck.
“Let’s go.”
#rdr2#arthur morgan rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 oc#rdr2 fandom#arthur morgan#fanfic#arthur morgan x oc#fem!oc#self indulgence at its finest
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Joe flr character bingo? 👀
sorry anon i was outside in the garden planting raspberry bushes. anyway this is SUCH a good one and I am kinda mad there are so few squares I can tick off for Joe bc i genuinely love him but not like That
Joe is such a comfort character for me in a very diff way. he makes my daddy issues go brrrrr cos THIS is a dad. THE dad of all time. if i could pick any dad ever to have instead of mine i think i'd pick him.
I think he's so fucking funny first of all. it's my fave thing to put him in a fic and just. mess with him. im poking him with a stick. im watching his blood pressure go up. i'm making him deal with leonard snart and he's about to explode every time they're in a room together. i just. have so many affectionate feelings for him and his seething hatred of this man. and the earth 2 version where he's exactly like that but to BARRY? iconic. no notes. rip earth 2 joe you were a bitch and i miss you sm
THAT BEING SAID there are things about him that make me go "you should have faced more consequences for that. go sit in a corner and think about what you've done." namely bullying iris out of being a cop (acab etc. etc. but still shitty of him), the whole thing where he was like BARRY, WHY DIDN'T YOU ASK MY PERMISSION TO MARRY IRIS (and iris AGREED 🤮🤮🤮 who the fuck was in charge of the writers' room that day, i just wanna talk), the fact that he can be overbearing and controlling of his kids and very jaded in a lot of ways... idk he's a flawed character and every character needs some negative aspects so none of these things affect my love for him but sometimes i am shaking my head in disapproval...
as for canon. this is true of everything but MAN did they drop the ball with him towards the end... i get why they had joe quit ccpd given the political situation at the time and i support that 100% but first of all, having a Black character go "hey the police force in my city is inherently corrupt and i can no longer be complicit in its enforcement" (true and correct) while their white hero just does not acknowledge that corruption and continues to work for the same establishment completely uncritically was... perhaps not sending the message they intended... i mean it's honestly almost funny cos that is very much a reflection of the actual systems but. maybe they could have thought about that one a bit more...
and they really should have given joe something else to do cos he ended up sorta directionless after that. in fairness i know jesse l martin has back problems so i think them having him sitting down chilling at home as a stay at home dad was perhaps borne of necessity in a lot of ways but they defo could have done more interesting things with the character. im not OPPOSED to sahd joe but it does seem like a bit of a waste cos it would just be like. every episode joe shows up for a pep talk then goes back to being the full-time stay at home parent for a child we literally never see except one time when a window explodes in her face, which brings me to my NEXT point---
writing joe out with LITERALLY like 8 eps to go? stupid. again i respect that jesse l martin had HAD it with this show (tbf who hadnt by this point) and he wanted out, of course he had every right to do that, but purely based on the context of the show, i hate that they had him leave central city like that and move so far away when we were so close to the finish line. HAAATE it. the show was basically on life support from that point on. it was possibly worse than when we lost cisco. joe was the heart of it, man. it just wasn't the same :(
but yes I LOVE JOE, he is the only fictional dad i respect and i love ruining his life
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The Riddler, Two-Face, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy holding a wealthy teen of a Gotham family hostage/for ransom. The person being held hostage seems indifferent and the villains are extremely confused because of the situation they are in. And maybe after occasional talking and such with the villains. It turns out they don't have the greatest family/don't feel loved, or cared about, so they become a father figure/mother figure for them
The Riddler: He realises after it happens. He took you for ransom. RANSOM. That was IT. The MONEY. So why didn't he hand you over when he got it? Or kill you? Hey, Jonathan rarely turns down a few test subjects! Why are you still here, UNTIED, in his hideout!? So you had a shit upbringing like the rest of the kids in Gotham- why was this his problem? His mental turmoil is unleashed into a very loud. "What am I, the adoption agency!?"
Two-Face: Okay maybe he hadn't thought the bet through. He gave you a choice. Heads, you stay alive and here. Tails, you are killed the moment he gets mummy and daddy's money. You had called it and it was heads...oh fuck it was heads. See that speech and bravado is great and all...until you actually have to keep the kid. In his eyes your situation went from bad to worse. Originally you had shitty parents, now you had him and he could guarantee he was worse by the fact that he didn't know what he was doing...at all. Plus he has enough baggage in the image of two personalities, horrific trauma and severe burns covering half of his body. He only had one eyelid for fucks sake! He doesn't need your issues too! Just--ugh! He needs a drink.
Harley Quinn: It all kinda catches up to her after it happens. She falters for a moment. She didn't exactly want the responsibility of a kid with baggage right now. Although she doesn't have the heart to get rid of you. She anticipates a possible new friendship but before she knew it, she was treating you like a mother would...a very questionable mother but a mother all the same. Kept the ransom money though. Gotta get you through college! It's kinda concerning how quickly it all processes but that's Harley for you.
Poison Ivy: Well this plan went sideways. She just needed the money. Yet now she had ditched the money and kept a kid instead. She considered giving you to Harley but decided against that rather quickly due to who Harley's choice of company to keep...of the Clown nature. Ultimately she sees potential in mentoring you of sorts. Leaving a legacy or at least someone who will carry on speaking for plants and mother nature herself. Yes. That sounded much better. Even though its never said, Ivy is probably best mother you've had. She has your back always and you're always safe.
#batman#batman villains#request#batman scenarios#the riddler#two face#harley quinn#poison ivy#edward nygma#harvey dent#harleen quinzell#pamela isley
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