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redstarwriting · 1 year

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bestie

spider squad x black cat!fem!reader

request?: yes

request: “hi! okay i love your works and my brains been rotting thinking abt this lol. i was wondering if i could request a black cat variant! reader that somehow (idk how sorry ), she's apart of the spider-society? Given that black cats backstory isn't all that nice, maybe she has a deal W miguel to let her stay if she makes sure she uses her skills to help the society instead of stealing? and how the squad(miles, gwen, pav, hobie) meet her in the society?”

requested by: anon

word count: 2.1k

genre: platonic and chaotic LMAO

Warnings: language, stealing, bad Spanish, slight Gwen crush if you squint but also like not really

A/N: STOP I LOVE WRITING PLATONIC AND CHAOTIC THINGS!! i did change up the prompt a bit as they didn’t meet her in spider society necessarily (even though the did, they just didn’t know it lol) i hope you enjoy this anon! also if anyone wants to knows some of the specific songs that gave me black cat 2099 vibes lemme know 👀 i’ll make a post

pt ii - becoming hobie’s bestie

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Gwen, Miles, Pavitr, and Hobie were called to “the principal’s office” as they started calling it. So here they are, in front of Miguel, waiting to be reprimanded for something they did. “I have a mission for the three of you,” he says, pointing to Miles, Gwen, and Pav. “Hobie, you’re not needed.”

“Like ‘ell I’m not,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Miguel subtly smiles to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.

“Wait, what?” Miles asks, eyes wide. “You aren’t gonna yell at us for existing?” Gwen asks, equally as surprised. Miguel rolls his eyes. “For existing? When have I ever…” he trails off as Pav, Hobie, and Gwen point at Miles.

And Miles points at himself.

“Dios mío,” Miguel mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m not doing that. This time.”

“What’s the mission then? Are we going somewhere new? Oh! Can I bring back a souvenir?” Pavitr asks, excitedly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll end up with some sort of souvenir regardless,” Miguel grumbles, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “Well, what do you mean by that?” Gwen asks and Miguel types into his computer. A picture of a girl pops up on the screen. “I need you to bring me her.”

“Uhhh what? You want us to bring you a… civilian?” Miles asks, and Miguel nods. “She’ll respond to you all better. You’re the same age,” Miguel says, and they all glance at each other. “Can you not be secretive for like, a couple of seconds? Is she an anomaly?”

“No, Gwen. Just bring her to Spider Society, please. She’s from this universe, so I’m just sending you to where I need you to go,” Miguel says, opening a portal for them to go through. They all glance at each other before Gwen shrugs, walking through the portal. Miles and Pav follow her, and Hobie rolls his eyes following the three of them. They find themselves… at a show? They’re on top of the catwalk in a stadium show, looking down at the audience. “What the hell?” Gwen mumbles and Hobie is intrigued when he sees the instruments on the stage. “Now why did he send us to a concert?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. Right at that moment, the lights go down and everyone starts to scream. “So, you think she’s in the crowd? How are we supposed to find someone in all of these people?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. “I can do it, easily,” Pav says, and Miles and Gwen give him a Look™. “What?! It’s simple you just look for her face! Miguel showed us a picture of her.”

“Aye, ‘e’s right. Found her,” Hobie says, and they all look at him. He’s pointing, and they follow his finger. “SHE’S THE SINGER?!” Gwen yells as the music starts. “Yeah. Guess we gotta wait for the set to finish,” Hobie says, shrugging and sitting on the catwalk, “Gettin’ a free show outta this shit at least.”

“Oh, please, every show you’ve ever been to has been free,” Gwen says, sitting next to him, taking her mask off. Hobie, Pav, and Miles all follow suit. “What does Miguel want with a singer?”

“I like her outfit,” Pav says, ignoring Miles’ question and sitting next to Gwen. Miles quickly slips between Pav and Gwen, shooing him away slightly. “Not my style. Lyrics ain’t bad,” Hobie says, leaning back and observing the performance, “She can sing, I’ll give ‘er ‘at.”

“I fuck with it. Lyrics speak to me,” Gwen says, and Pav nods. “She seems angry.”

“Yeah, that’s why I can respect what she’s doin’. Threatenin’ and angry music is cool,” Hobie says, bobbing his head up and down. Gwen nods. “Okay, guys, seriously, what does Miguel want with a singer?”

“Maybe she’s a scientist or something? Miguel needs her help?” Gwen suggests, and Miles shakes his head. “Nah, I feel like he’d just meet with her then.”

“He did mention she was close to our age, though. And her songs make it sound like she has an issue with authority,” Pav mentions, and Hobie nods. “I fuck with ‘er.” They all look at him. “Oh, I get it. She’s Hobie’s age,” Gwen says, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’?”

“You two are the same age, both have a problem with authority… whatever she is, she needs someone she can relate to to actually come with us,” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “Guess ‘at makes sense.” The four of them continue watching the concert. Even though it isn’t necessarily punk music, Hobie loves the lyrics. And Gwen loves all of the songs because she understands the lyrics more than the other guys. Miles is enjoying it because Gwen is enjoying it, and Pav is enjoying it because other people are enjoying it. However, neither of them would probably listen to this after this mission. When you’re nearing the end, Miles slips his mask back on. “Alright, everyone. What’s the plan?”

“We need to get backstage,” Gwen says, slipping her mask on as well. “‘ave a gander down there,” Hobie says, pointing at some marks on the stage. “What’s that?” Pav asks. “Pyrotechnics. When they go off, we go in,” Hobie says, and they all nod. “Hope they’re big enough that no one sees us,” Gwen mumbles and Hobie scoffs. “Gwendy, it’s a stadium show. It’s ‘bout to be big,” he says. The four of them prepare, running along the catwalk and getting ready to web back to where you would disappear to. Sure enough, the pyrotechnics go off and Hobie was right. They’re big. It gives them the advantage as they slip undetected backstage. They hide high up, watching as you run offstage after your encore. They silently follow you to your dressing room and Miles points at an air vent. Gwen nods, quietly yanking it off of its hinges. She crawls inside, taking a glance to make sure you’re still clothed, and then motions for the boys to follow.

Meanwhile, you’re wiping your makeup off, sipping on some water to soothe your throat from your performance. You walk away from the giant mirror to go grab a snack in the corner of the room when, suddenly, you feel like someone is watching you. You subtly unsheathe your hairbrush, which doubles as a dagger. Just in case. You take a deep breath, turning around, and throwing it. Miles leaps out of the way, and the other three’s eyes are wide. The accuracy with that throw was a little too good. “None of you are Miguel,” you say, on edge still. “Ay, don’t compare me to that bloody bloke. I’d rather die than be called ‘im,” Hobie says, and you give him an amused look. “I can arrange that,” you say, and Gwen clears her throat. “I just wanted to say your concert was like, totally, awesome.”

“Aw, thanks! Did you pay to watch?” you ask and she looks around. “Well uh… I, um—” She gets cut off by your laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t,” you explain. “Oh! Then no. Too cool to pay, you know?” Gwen rambles and Miles turns his head to her, giving her a look that translates into ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ You chuckle. “Why are you four here, then? Señor O’Hara miss me?” you take a bite of the snack you picked, leaning against the wall. “How do you know Miguel?” Pav asks and you snort. “Long story. Oh! He finally find out I took something from him?” you ask, tossing your food to the side and crossing your arms. “I… we actually don’t know. He just said we had to bring you back to—”

“Wait he’s actually inviting me into his super secret spider society?” you ask, a look of excitement spreading across your face. “Uh. Yes?” Miles says, and you squeal. “This is so exciting! My first time being invited, okay, great, hold on,” you say, quickly running off and behind the changing room divider. “Uh… you’re just gonna come with us?” Gwen asks, and you yell a quick ‘yep!’ They all look at each other and shrug. “No offense, sweet’eart, but I thought it woulda been ‘arder to convince ya. Wasn’t aware bein’ invited by a stuck-up wanker like ‘im was all it would take,” Hobie says, and they hear a giggle from behind the screen. “Oh this isn’t my first time in his little fanclub,” you step out from behind the divider, garnishing an all-black catsuit with shiny black gloves coming to claws at the fingers. A small eye mask adorns your face, and you smirk. “It’s just the first time he’ll know I’m there.”

“Holy shit, no way! You’re Black Cat!” Gwen says, and you do a little curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Gwen Stacy,” you say, and her eyes get big. “How did you know—”

“Like I said. Not my first time there. Surprising since you all have that spidey sense or whatever, but guess I’m just that good,” you say, pulling out a dimension-hopping watch. “When did you—”

“Do I have to say I’ve been to your Spidertopia already again? Come on, I’m sure your pendejo of a boss is waiting for us,” you grin, and Hobie shakes his head. “Not my boss. I like you, though. Gettin’ fuck the establishment vibes,” he says, and you wink at him. “Thanks, Hobie Brown. Appreciate it. Also, Pavitr, you need to tell me what your haircare routine is,” you walk through the portal, and the four of them follow after you. Sure enough, you step out of the portal and stand right in front of Miguel’s desk. “Hello there, Spider-Boy,” you say, and he sighs. “(Y/n). Give me the device back. Now.”

“I’m good, actually. Been having too much fun with it,” you say, placing it on your wrist. He mutters something in Spanish as the four of them appear behind you. “Wait, if you’re Black Cat, why are you like… a superstar?” Miles asks, taking his mask off. “Was told at a young age to never settle for second best. So, I never did. Also if you want to steal from the big leagues, you have to be in with the big leagues,” you say, shrugging. “Damn, she is… so cool,” Gwen whispers. “We have an agreement, (Y/n),” MIguel says and you groan. “Miguel! Big guy, amigo, can I call you that?”

“No.”

“Don’t care, when have I ever stuck with an agreement?” you ask and he frowns. “This is all because you want to be able to come here whenever you want, isn’t it?” he asks and you grin. “You’re so smart, bestie,” you say and he groans. “You’re impossible.”

“I know. So can I come here and not have to worry about multiple spiders biting me all at once?” you ask, and he sighs. “Yes.”

“YE—”

“BUT!”

“Fuck, there’s a but,” you groan, as he continues talking, “No. Stealing.” You feign offense. “What makes you think I would ever steal something from here?” He points to your wrist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This was gifted to me.”

“By who.”

“Myself.”

“Esta maldita chica,” he mumbles, and you grin. “Well, thank you so much for approving my breaking and entering of your little arachnid club. I’ll be sure to return everything I’ve taken in hopes that you would notice I wanted to be invited,” you grin, and he clenches his jaw. “You step one toe out of line—”

“I woooon’t! Promise! Before I return everything though, I kinda have a heist planned in Earth-42,” you shrug, pulling up a portal. “I’ll tell Miles you said hi, Miles,” you give him a smirk, but before disappearing into the portal, you hear Miguel. “When you’re done come back here. I actually might be able to use you for something.”

You smile at him. “Say less, Spider-Man.” Then, you disappear. “We’re about to see a lot more of her, aren’t we?” Miles asks, and Miguel sighs and nods. “Dude! She is so cool!” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “She don’t take shit from no one. Respectable.”

“She’s funny! And she was able to shut you down, Miguel, that never happens,” Pav says, laughing a bit. “She seems kinda crazy,” Miles says.”

“What, like we aren’t?” Gwen retaliates and he shrugs. “I am perfectly sane! Most of the time…”

Miguel runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the four of them continue discussing you while walking out of the room.

He was not looking forward to the friendship the five of you were about to form.

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#spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse #spiderman #spiderpunk #spidergwen #hobie brown #gwen stacy #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #miguel o'hara

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pucksandpower · 7 months

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Family Feud

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

Summary: Max thinks it’s bad enough that his sister is dating his emotional support rival … but did they really have to rub salt in the wound by making him want to puke on national tv?

Warnings: 18+ content mildly implied

You take a deep breath as you walk onto the Family Feud stage, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. You never expected to be here, about to face off against your brother and his Red Bull Racing teammates in a battle of wits. But when Fred Vasseur talked to you about potentially doing an episode of the show for charity, you jumped at the chance.

Especially since it meant spending time with your boyfriend.

You glance over at Charles and he winks at you, his smile making your heart flutter.

You could stare into each other’s eyes all day so you force yourself to look away and turn to face the host Steve Harvey as he introduces the teams.

“Welcome to Celebrity Family Feud!” Steve announces. “Today we’ve got two Formula 1 teams ready to compete. Let’s meet the teams!”

Steve starts with the Red Bull Racing team. “We’ve got Team Principal Christian Horner, Red Bull drivers Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez, and AlphaTauri drivers Daniel Ricciardo and Yuki Tsunoda!”

The crowd cheers as the guys wave. Max shifts awkwardly, clearly not comfortable being on stage. You stifle a laugh, knowing he would rather be anywhere than here right now.

“And the Scuderia Ferrari team,” Steve continues, “led by Team Principal Fred Vasseur, with drivers Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, Chief Technical Officer Y/N Verstappen, and reserve driver Antonio Giovinazzi!”

You and your teammates greet the audience. As you pass Max, you ruffle his hair teasingly. “Ready to lose?”

He swats your hand away, rolling his eyes. “You wish.”

Steve explains the rules and then it’s time for the face-off. You and Charles step up to represent Ferrari while Daniel and Max come forward for Red Bull.

“Alright, we surveyed 100 people, top five answers are on the board,” Steve says. “Name something you do to get pumped up before a race.”

You ring the buzzer just before Max. “Listen to hype music!” You shout.

“Listen to hype music!” Steve repeats. “Let’s see if it’s up there!”

You hold your breath as the board flips, revealing your answer in the #2 spot. You and Charles high-five triumphantly.

“Alright, Red Bull, you can steal if you have a better answer,” Steve prompts.

Max thinks for a moment. “Visualize winning,” he tries.

“Good answer, good answer,” Steve nods. But it’s not there. You grin at Charles, knowing Ferrari has taken round one.

The game continues, both teams battling it out trying to guess the survey answers.

You and Charles can’t resist teasing your brother every chance you get.

“What might a Formula 1 driver do to unwind after a long race?” Steve asks next.

You buzz in with a sly smile. “Make love to their partner!”

Charles doubles over laughing as Max makes gagging noises, his face turning bright red.

“Wooowee, let’s see if our survey takers agree! Is making sweet sweet love to their partner on the board?” Steve chuckles. Unbelievably, it shows up as the #4 answer.

“Yes!” You shout, kissing Charles on the cheek. Max is shaking his head, looking like he wants to disappear. You blow him a taunting kiss, which just makes him cringe more.

“Red Bull, you gotta come back from this,” Steve says.

“Uhhh ... play video games,” Daniel guesses but the large red X that appears on the screen shows that Ferrari maintains the lead as you head into the final round.

“Alright, this is for the win. Ferrari just needs 9 points to end this right here,” Steve announces dramatically. “Name something you might find in an F1 driver’s motorhome.”

Charles rings in first. “Condoms!” He calls out, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laugh as Max lets out an anguished yell. “Stoooooop!”

“Survey says ... number three answer!” Steve announces. “Ferrari wins!”

Charles grabs you in a celebratory hug, spinning you around happily. You kiss him deeply, not caring that Max is fake vomiting behind you.

You break apart from your boyfriend, glancing back at Max still pretending to gag.

“Ugh get a room,” Max complains.

“Don’t worry, we plan to as soon as we get done with this,” you wink.

Max looks utterly disgusted as always.

“Alright folks, time for the Fast Money round!” Steve announces. “First up for Ferrari is Charles Leclerc!”

You blow Charles a flirty kiss as he takes the stage.

“Name something an F1 driver might eat before a race,” Steve begins.

Charles shoots you a shit-eating grin before winking at the camera. “Their beautiful girlfriend.”

You giggle as Max turns an unnatural shade of red alarmingly similar to your Ferrari branded shirt.

“Let’s see if the survey agrees!” Steve turns to the board.

No match but you don’t care.

Charles fires through the next few questions.

“Name something you’d pack for a race weekend.”

“Handcuffs,” he laughs at Steve’s scandalized expression.

You pretend to fan yourself while Max bangs his head against the podium in agony.

The buzzer sounds and Charles finishes strong. You give him a hug as you take the stage instead.

“Name something associated with F1,” Steve says.

“Fast cars and sexy drivers,” you reply with a wink towards Charles.

Charles blows you a kiss. Max looks ready to walk off stage or stab a mechanic with a fork.

You hope it’s the first option. One mechanic stabber in the family is more than enough, thank you very much.

You match Charles’ style, giving mostly normal answers until …

“Name something you pack for a weekend trip.”

You tap your chin playfully. “Lots and lots of lingerie.”

Charles whistles and cheers as you curtsy. Max is nearly crimson with embarrassment.

“And that’s the game!” Steve concludes. “Congratulations to Ferrari for their big win today on Celebrity Family Feud! $46,000 will be donated to Racing For Kids on your behalf.”

You leap into Charles arms, kissing him deeply. “That’s how it’s done, schatje!”

“We make an unstoppable team,” Charles smiles, dimples on full display, and you swear that some of the women in the audience swoon.

Max just shakes his head as he stomps to the exit. “You two need Jesus.”

But you’re too busy gazing adoringly at Charles to notice. Winning the show was fun but the real prize is having the love of your life by your side.

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lialacleaf · 9 months

Text

A Touch Too Personal

Chapter 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift.

Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma

Chapter 2

You cared deeply about every single one of your teammates. It didn’t matter that you were sitting in an office talking to them over the radio, you were still providing them with intel and directions that kept them alive.

They were like a second family, and so Task Force 141 slowly began to feel like having a lot of older brothers.

Johnny was your go to partner in crime when it came to making mischief, and you knew he was always down for a good prank.

Kyle on the other hand was good for having deep conversations and was the one you always went to for advice.

Ghost…well ghost was a bit different. Your feelings towards him weren’t exactly that of a sibling. Maybe it was because he was more reserved than the others, a mystery or puzzle that you couldn’t quite figure out, but you couldn’t help but feel warm inside on the rare occasion that his intense gaze did linger on you.

Which lead to your current dilemma.

Every time you went home, you made sure to bring one of the boys a gift when you returned to base.

Being that Price was like a father figure, you brought him a handcrafted mug from your hometown’s local pottery festival. Soap had gotten a pocket knife with his call sign engraved on it, and Gaz had received a baseball cap with a hand stitched 141 on the side in his favorite color.

However, now it was Ghost’s turn, and you were at a loss. What would he even like to have? You knew he had an array of tactical gear, you’d seen him knit pick through it on occasion, but you didn’t know enough about working in the field to know kind of tools he’d like. He had so many knives already, that it felt redundant to get him another.

What on earth were you supposed to give this man?

“Maybe you could make this Ghost fella something yourself?” Your mother suggested as you sat in your parents living room to ponder the issue.

Your mother liked Ghost’s nickname, and laughed whenever you brought it up. You could only assume she was picturing a little boy in a Scream costume, and you had to admit that was a little funny. Ghost was the only one to not have shared his real name with you, and thus always ended up being teased by your family, not that he was aware of that.

“Like what?” You asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m stopping by the craft store, how about you come with me instead of sulking in the living room?”

You watched your mother peruse through the holiday decorations and shook your head. That woman was amassing quite the Christmas village collection.

You wandered through the store with dwindling hope until you saw it. It was in the fabric section that you found the most perfect pattern for your Lieutenant.

The fabric had a black background, with white Ghosts all over it. You picked up the roll with a brilliant smile on your face, and ran over to one of the fabric department employees.

“I need some of this,” you said, giddy and bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“How much do you want?” The woman asked, preparing her scissors.

Ghost was a pretty large man, and you took a moment to think about just how much fabric you were going to need.

“Uhhh, a lot.”

“Lass! How was the family?” Johnny asked, pulling you in for a tight hug as you pulled your luggage into your room on base.

“It was good, ate a lot, took my cousins shooting, family stuff,” you said with a grin. “I gotta show you something,” you insisted, pulling him inside your room.

“Oh? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“You know how I always bring back a surprise?” You began, a grin on your face.

“Who’s the lucky winner?” He chucked.

“You tell me.” You beamed at him as you pulled out the larger than life knot-tie blanket you’d made, and Johnny’s jaw dropped.

“You did not!” He gasped, chuckling at he inspected it. One side was the Ghost fabric you’d found, and the other was made from the softest army green material you could find. In the top corner. You’d stitched in a small British Flag patch, and each corner has a sandbag sewn in.“You made him a bloody weighted blanket? What gave you that idea?” He asked.

“We’ll I couldn’t find anything I thought he’d like at first, but then I saw the fabric and it just fell together so perfectly!”

“Oh man, I would kill to see his reaction to this,” Johnny said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

“You say that like we ever get to see his reaction to anything,” you stated. You’d never actually seen him without some sort of face covering.

Johnny tisked softly and shrugged. “Alright, you got me there,” he admitted. “He’s in his room now, probably as good a time as any.”

You couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Perfect.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you approached Ghost’s door. You knew it was just the nerves that came along with your little crush on the Lieutenant, but it still made the task at hand a little daunting.

You took a deep breath, knocking softly on the door. Maybe you should have wrapped it for him. What if he didn’t like it? How were you supposed to react if he just brushed you off.

The door opened before you could rethink your decision. It always came as a shock how large Ghost was, no matter how many times you stood mask to face.

“You’re back.”

You felt your heart rate spike. He had noticed you were gone? Had noticed you? Of course he had noticed, it was his job to notice, it didn’t mean anything.

“Yeah,” you said, waiting for him to ask how your trip was, or if you were glad to be back. He didn’t.

“I got you something!” You said suddenly, holding the folded blanket out to him, and his entire body seemed to freeze. He stared at it for a moment or two, as if he were slowly processing the object.

“What is it?”

Your smile faltered. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he inspected it as if it were some kind of trick. “It’s a weighted blanket,” you said as he took it carefully from your hands.

“Where’d you get it?”

Shit, he hates it.

“I- Uhm. I made it,” you admitted, your cheeks blazing. This was stupid. You were stupid.

He looked between you and the blanket in his hands, and nodded. “Thanks,” he said before stepping back into his room and closing the door.

You pressed your lips together firmly in an attempt to not start bawling. You walked off on shaky legs, taking deep breaths. At least he hadn’t told you he didn’t want it.

Simon sat on his bed, his thumb brushed over the small flag patched into the corner of the blanket. The fact that you had made him a gift by hand had his stomach in knots. He knew about your little gift tradition with the rest of 141, but he hadn’t expected to be included, nor did he expected you’d go to such trouble. The two of you weren’t even very close.

He swallowed thickly as tears pricked his eyes. This was the nicest thing any teammate had ever given him.

He brought the fabric to his face and gave it a deep whiff. It smelled fresh, like laundry detergent. You must have washed it before you gave it to him.

Simon spread the blanket carefully over his cot, admiring how the fabric felt against his hands. It didn’t catch on his calloused fingers, and wasn’t too fluffy.

It was large too, as if you’d taken his massive size into account. He was certain he could easily caving himself in it. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, and it was an effort to hold his tears at bay.

That night, Simon slept soundly, wrapped in your carefully crafted gift, and you were the only thing on his mind.

AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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littlecharmingenvy · 11 months

Text

Diavolo Headcannons

Dia brainrot go brrrrrr (pls I love this man)

warnings: NSFW (MDNI), couple of kinks mentioned, Diavolo having a sub-par father, author not knowing how to take things seriously (aka, use of the phrase "dicked down crazy style"), uhhh I feel like I'm missing something but I can't think of it so if I am pls lmk

SFW

<3- He’s always been intrigued by humans; how such fragile creatures could have so much courage would never fail to amaze him. So when MC comes along, this sweet little thing who didn’t even know demons actually existed until a few weeks ago, he can’t help but be impressed on how little fear they show

<3- Immediately finds himself attracted to MC, but, of course, being the crowned Prince of the Devildom, he tries to keep things diplomatic. He didn’t want to risk a scandal, especially not now, since everything was finally working out to his liking

<3- MC recognizes Dia as the Prince, but because they didn’t grow up in the Devildom, they aren’t sure what that title exactly entails, so they stick to treating Dia like they would any other person, much to Lucifer’s chagrin and Diavolo’s delight

<3- With how casual MC is to Diavolo, he quickly finds himself falling for them, despite his best efforts not to. How could he be expected to not fall head over heels for them? Especially with their laugh when they’re caught off guard, or the side eye they give that seems especially reserved for Diavolo, when one of the brothers does something laughable. He feels special, as if their little silent conversations exist in a place no one can taint; its something just for them, and that’s something Diavolo has always yearned for

<3- As soon as he realized his feelings were something he couldn’t just brush over, he told MC. He’s a patient man, but he sees no point in hiding it from you, not when you two were already as close as you were. He swears his soul ascends to the Celestial Realm when you reveal that you feel the same

<3- Showers you in the finest jewels and gold (or silver if it matches your complexion better, cool toned shawtys gotta stick together FR). His father growing up only showed affection by gift giving, leaving Dia to lack any emotional warmth outside of material objects. While he tries to be better than his father, and is always praising you and showing love in any way he can, he especially loves giving you gifts, as that’s how he learned to show love

<3- He doesn’t mind receiving gifts from you, anything you give him he’ll cherish for the rest of his life, but he gets especially soft when you make him something. Little paper flowers? They’re the prettiest he’s ever seen. You bake him cookies? They’re the best he’s had in years (don’t worry, Barbs gets it). Give him origami you made in class when bored? He’s proposing then and there /j (/hj?). Just the idea that you thought about him and cared enough to make someone by hand makes him all soft and fuzzy inside.

<3- Aside from handmade things, Diavolo adores quality time. Just having you sit near him while he’s doing paperwork or enjoying his tea send him over the moon

<3- Very protective. While he’s sweet with you, and would never let you see any other side, he is still a demon, and he would (and has) threatened or killed a few who wished harm on you, and he’d do it again without a second thought

<3- Loves loves loves pet names. Lover, My dear, Angel (ironic), Beloved, he hardly ever calls you by your name anymore

<3- Overall, very soft with his lover. He just wants them to know how much he loves and adores them

NSFW

<3- I know this is widely agreed upon fandom-wise, but I’ll say it again for good measure. Size. Kink. Seeing how small you are compared to him makes him want to rail you into next week. When you look up at him with those doe eyes of yours, having to crane your neck up to make eye contact? Done. He’s dead. He died. It’s over for him

<3- You know monster fuckers? That’s how he feels about humans. Human fucker? Idk, but his enamoration with humans doesn’t stop in the bedroom

<3- Tries to be soft with you, really, he does. But at some point he just breaks, and he needs to dick you down crazy style then and there

<3- Praise kink, going both ways. He’ll tell you how pretty you are and how good you’re being for him, and will nearly cum when you tell him how good he’s making you feel

<3- He’s open to a lot of kinks, but isn’t likely to bring them up. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love experimenting though. Actually, it’s you who makes him realize he’s into a lot more than he thought he was

<3- Loves giving head. Really, good luck getting him off of you once he starts. He’ll be down there as long as you’ll let him, accidentally overstimulating you pretty much every time. But when he paws at your clothes and looks at you pleadingly, you can’t help but give him what he wants

<3- Generally, Dia’s just a big boy who wants to make his little human feel good. Boy’s absolutely whipped for you, and isn’t afraid to show it. Anyone who has a problem with it will be taken care of

#obey me smut #obey me #otome #smut #obey me!#obey me diavolo #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo smut #obey me diavolo headcanons #diavolo headcanons #diavolo smut #headcannons

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cultofdixon · 7 months

Text

Matchmaker Grimes

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Carl Grimes’ Older Sister!Reader • Carl saw how close you and the archer were getting and thought he (with a little help from dad) he can get the two of you together • SFW/Smol Angst • TW: Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

“Y/N, mind doing me a favor?”

“If it’s something stupid I won’t do it Carl” Y/N scoffs in a playful manner to show her brother she wasn’t serious about turning down whatever it may be. Even if the silence wasn’t going to get her to do what he wants of her. “Dude. Spit it out”

“Shit, sorry. Mind checking the snares? Dad asked me to ask you”

“Then why did you phrase it in wanting me to do you a favor?”

“I panicked and forgot that dad asked me to ask you. I just remembered that it was him asking—-“

“You’re scrambling. But yeah I’ll go take care of it” Y/N shooed him away so that she could get ready in private, even if the blanket curtain for a cell door wasn’t enough privacy.

As the eldest Grimes sibling made her way outside the gates of the prison to check the snares for her father. She noticed the archer setting up new ones after re-setting up the old ones.

Daryl looked up when he heard a throat clear, finally noticing Y/N as he straightens up. “Uh. Rick asked me—-“

“Oh, funny. My dad asked me to do it…too” Y/N tried not to be so nervous around the archer when talking to him.

“I could use a hand though, so you’re perfect—-“ Daryl himself was nervous around the eldest Grimes sibling. “I-I mean it’s…perfect. You…you can help. Yeah”

While that was happening, Rick was currently on watch as he had a pair of binoculars checking the parameter from his tower and more specifically watching the two take care of the snares. They were getting quite a bit of game and while they were out they took care of a few walkers that threatened the fence.

“Anything?” Carl questions the moment he arrived as Rick handed the binoculars to his son.

“Yea know I can’t hear anything right?”

“No shit dad!”

“Language”

“Whatever. I just wanna know if they are talking to each other. I don’t gotta hear what they’re saying” Carl states looking into the binoculars checking on the two himself.

As Y/N finished setting up the last snare she noticed Daryl staring into the prison but more specifically the watch tower. She brought herself to stand beside him curious to what he was looking at.

“Why does your brother have binoculars?”

“Cuz he’s a weirdo. I don’t know” Y/N watching Carl put away the binoculars by shoving them into his dad’s side.

“It’d be weirder if he had one of those…uhhh…”

“A listening device? Aren’t they called bugs?”

“I was thinkin’ the microphone things cops had in old cop films. For spyin’” Daryl adjusted his crossbow on his back as Y/N crosses her arms watching her family scramble in the watchtower.

“I miss movies”

“Yea had a favorite film?”

“Guess” Y/N smiles at Daryl watching his expression soften while in thought.

“Were yea one of them twilight girls?”

“Ew no” She laughs at the guess as Daryl felt a twitch of a smile Grace his face when hearing her laugh. “Lori was obsessed with the books. But as for my favorite movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”

“Jim Carrey fan?”

“No, I just really enjoyed the film. I could probably recite it by heart I’ve seen it a lot” Y/N started to make her way back to the main gates with Daryl following shortly behind while carrying the catches the traps caught.

“Uhm…think yea could recite it to me like…sometime or whatever”

“Sure, after dinner?” Y/N’s smile he will take to memory. She watches him nod with a hint of his smile peaking out. “Cool”

The night came in and dinner was made with the rabbits they’ve caught in the snares. It was put into a stew with some of the vegetables they grew in the gardens. Some of the people were eating outside and some were inside…Carl found himself sitting outside at the table with his dad and baby sister with the Greenes and Rhees. He was watching Y/N talking to Carol at another table with Daryl sitting with them.

“Carl”

Carl quickly snapped back to the table he was at seeing a few laugh at his attention being elsewhere.

“Sorry what?”

“You gotta eat, son” Rick laughs a bit as he held Judith giving her a bottle. “We’re running out of formula”

“She should be able to start takin’ solids soon but in mush form. We do have carrots coming in” Hershel adds his input as he enjoys the dinner.

“Think we should have a run set up. Just a quick one to see if there’s anymore formula out there before weening her off”

“Glenn and I—-“

“Y/N and Daryl don’t have morning watch tomorrow. They can go on a quick run. I’ll go tell them” Carl quickly got up from his seat making his way over to their table.

Glenn couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him catching everyone’s attention at their picnic table. “Sorry sorry”

“What it’s cute that he’s trying to set them up” Beth was quick to add as that caught Rick’s attention instantly.

“Y’all know what he’s doing?”

“It’s obvious”

“And boy are those two oblivious” Maggie smiles at the two before turning back to her table failing to contain her laughter. “Glenn and I have tried before. But we honestly thought you’d have a problem with it”

“Or it’ll blow up in our faces because it’s the apocalypse and locking the two in an abandoned house can lead to a walker being shoved out a window” Glenn avoided eye contact as that would explain the time Y/N had to get stitches. “Ruined the mood”

“I don’t have a problem with it.“ Rick states setting the bottle down and getting up from his seat to take Judith inside. “I’d only have a problem if he hurts her”

A few hours passed and everyone was inside for the night, Daryl was getting off his watch about to light a cig when he noticed Y/N sitting alone outside. He quickly discarded the cigarette while making his way over to her in the fields.

“Hey”

Y/N looks up from her lap giving Daryl a tired smile before returning her attention onto the book she had in her lap.

“You okay?” He asks bringing himself to sit with her hearing a ‘Mhm’ as a response. “Mind if I sit with yea?”

“Not at all” she smiles watching him the best she could given the barely any light from the solar powered lantern she found from the last run.

Daryl brought himself close bringing his attention to the pictures she was fiddling with hidden in the pages.

“Who’s that?”

“My mom with Lori, then this one” Y/N handed one over to Daryl as he brought it more toward her lantern to get a look. “Carl and I when I was moving out”

“Yea look happy…how’d these manage to survive this long? If yea don’t mind me askin’”

“I know how to take care of my shit” Y/N laughs dryly being handed the photo back as she put it back in a small copy of Flowers for Algernon. No correlation, just know her dad or brother would pick up the book. “My coat has an inside pocket big enough to hold the book I keep them in. Only take it off to sleep so it’s always on me”

“Smart. Kinda like the vest I’ve got. It’ll stay intact as long as it’s with me.”

“The wings suit you by the way. Being a guardian angel of sorts” Y/N smiles listening to him scoff followed by a short lived chuckle. “Ever gonna trust someone to wear them? You do trust Carol to clean it”

“Eh she just showed me how to take care of it. To avoid the wings tearing off…but yeah I’ve got someone in mind, I’d trust to wear’em”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N smiles at the archer not getting an answer of who as the silence grew slightly between them before she took a risk bringing herself beside him resting her head on his shoulder. “They must be pretty special”

She is Daryl tensed at first contact but relaxed after a second watching her curl into his side.

The morning came and Y/N stepped out of the watchtower from taking over Maggie’s morning shift ending just in time to go on the quick run with Daryl. He sat on his bike listening to what they needed to look for from Rick as he brought his attention to Y/N approaching.

“So you know what to—-“

“Get. Now you get” Daryl gestures with his head for Rick to leave as he gave him a confused look before turning to his daughter coming over and left with an amused chuckle escaping him.

Daryl straightens up gripping onto the helmet in his hands as Y/N instantly beams at the archer.

“You look ready”

“Oh I—If you ain’t I can—“

“No I’m good. I’m ready” She continues to smile as Daryl handed her the helmet. “Now why do you have this for me but not yourself?”

“You’re sitting behind me, sunshine. Can’t have yea getting brain damage falling off”

“Hey this isn’t my first time riding yknow”

“Oh?” Daryl smirks bringing himself forward so that Y/N can hop on once she got her helmet secured. “Wouldn’t have pegged yea to be the rebellious type with a dad like that”

“Mm I got away with a lot” Y/N giggles to herself about to wrap her arms around Daryl when she turned back to find Rick looking at the two. “CAN YEA GET THE GATES OLD MAN?”

The archer couldn’t help himself by laughing at her words as his mind drew a blank instantly when she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Old man really?” Rick comments with a bit of a snicker while passing to get the gate.

Soon the two were off and Carl brought himself to the gates once they closed.

“I’ve got a plan if this doesn’t work”

“I bet yea it will given it’s just them”

“Yeah well. I’m still gonna do my plan and it’s about tonight’s night shifts. Daryl is right after Y/N’s.”

“I’m listening” Rick started to walk back to the prison listening to his son’s plan, knowing part of it will probably not matter given these two being alone now?

Gives them enough time to say something

Do something Daryl thought as he follows Y/N through a mini grocery watching her take everything that would benefit their group. Still keeping an eye out for what Rick asked Daryl to find.

“Hey uh Y/N I—-“

“I love you” Y/N blurted to Daryl as she was taking her own chances but when he didn’t respond right away, she decided to scramble and head further into the building. “Sorry!”

“Nah wait” Daryl quickly followed after her through the market as she always managed to get further ahead. “Y/N Damn it! Stop runnin’ from me please” he finally managed to cut her off as it led to her practically running into him.

“Shit sorry—“

“No I’m sorry, Y/N. Shit yea caught me off guard a moment ago—-“

“Yeah I get that and I totally get it if you don’t—-“

“Stop!” Daryl snapped, murmuring a few apologies when it caused her to flinch. He held her shoulders watching her eyes avoid his as he gently held her chin with his right hand making her look at him. “Yea caught me off guard. I-I was gonna say the same…just Uhm. Never thought you’d feel the same way”

“I…” Y/N exhaled a small laugh before bringing her hands to carefully hold his face. “I just wanted a moment alone with you to tell you and felt that something has been pushing me to this.”

“I felt that too” Daryl brought his hands to rest on her hips bringing her close. “I…fuck, you beat me to it earlier” he chuckles lightly smiling, simply enjoying her laugh and feeling her hands move to behind his neck. “But god I love yea. I love you so much”

“Kiss me then, Dixon” Y/N smiles as the archer didn’t hesitate to bring his lips against hers loving every part of her even more keeping her close.

“Yea think they’ve gotten into some trouble?” Rick asks Hershel as it’s been hours. What was supposed to be a quick run, turned into them being gone for hours.

“Are you worried about your daughter? She’s proven to be strong enough to care for herself, Rick. And Daryl’s with her.”

Rick continued to pace the gardens while Hershel kept the upkeep on their veggies being a listening ear to his friend’s concern.

“I should go out there”

“Yea shouldn’t. If they don’t surface tomorrow, then a few of us can go look for them.” Hershel grabbed some mulch from his bucket and started to place it in the soil when he brought his attention to the familiar roar of Daryl’s bike. “Don’t have to send a party out” he states watching Rick sprint over to the gates.

“The fuck happen to a quick ru—-Where’s my daughter, Dixon?” He only ever used Daryl’s last name when he was pissed and the conversation included Y/N.

“Are you blind?” Daryl scoffs bringing his bike to its usual spot as Rick quickly turns to the car coming through having Y/N in the drivers.

As the car pulls in and Y/N stepped out after parking it, Rick instantly grabbed her into a hug out of sudden anxiety for her safety as she awkwardly pats his back wanting him to stop.

“I didn’t die”

“You gotta stop saying that” Rick sighs pulling away and checking her for injuries as she gently pushes him back. “Sorry”

“You worry too much, old man. But look at what we brought back” Y/N gestures for him to check out their findings in the trunk and as she listens to Rick being grateful that they decided to stick outside the walls longer to get more of what they need, she looked over to Daryl seeing him crouched by his bike checking it out after the ride looking over to her.

The archer shot her a smile as she returned it followed by a wink before turning to her dad talking about the blankets they found and giving them to the kids they have at the prison. While all that happens, Carl who stood by the entrance to their cellblock from the outside, noticed their small exchange and quickly went to Daryl knowing his sister wouldn’t hear what he’s about to say.

“You break my sister’s heart and I end you” Carl suddenly stated to the man who gave him a confused look before he could fully take in what he said.

“I’ll never break your sister’s heart”

“You better. Cuz I’m fucking serious” Carl crosses his arms. “I will end you”

Daryl scoffs as he removes one of his knifes from their slot handing it to Carl and with his normal serious tone.

“If I ever, EVER, do wrong by your sister? You know exactly what to do with that”

And on that note Daryl went to help his girl and Rick with unloading the goods from the “new” car they brought. Carl stood there watching and fiddled with the knife in his hand. Knowing he’s never gonna have to use it.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months

Note

no please bc just once I wanna make hobie nervous flustered.. like why can’t he can’t be intimated by me why I always gotta be intimidated by him 🙄🙄

TRULLLYY The opportunities are endless!! Let's talk about it!!!!!!!!!!!

Hobie Brown Loves Feminists and Defying the Patriarchy aka Hobie Brown and Writing write Non-Conventional Romantic Relationships in 'x-readers'

[this is an analysis where I analyze Hobie Brown, non-conventional relationships, and how feminism factors in to it all. Basically a critique/dive/rant into the narrow 'x-reader culture' in the Hobie Fandom

I touch on issues in Smut, labels, and how we can write 'Y/N's that challenge that status quo and fit Hobie better. I also break down how I personally use feminist themes to write a non-conventional relationship for Hobie.] [Also there's now a PART 2 HERE]

Despite the man from the 1970's - the era of bra-burning second-wave feminism - I don't ever think I've seen anyone talk about it, him, and how it influences him.

We all know Hobie isn't down with labels, but it seems like in X-Fem!Reader, the only two options out there are play-boy guitarist and traditional out-of-the-box boyfriend.

Hobie. The man he follows no social quo. Don't expect flowers from him.

Hobie diverges from the norm in nearly every way, and he does it purposefully and intentionally. And I think that'd extend to his romantic relationships too.

So why do we only see him in heteronormative, traditional gender-role based relationships?

Would Hobie be into this? And does the way we write him and his relationships in x-writers serve Hobie emotionally, allowing him to be a full character? (No, they don't.)

How can begin to acknowledge that, just like Hobie cares about race, and class, and housing and queer rights - he'd care about feminism too.

And how would that influence him in romance? How can we start writing healthier x-reader's?

We have enough insecure, blushing 'Y/N's being woo'd by [insert tumblr sexy man]'. Hobie can have so much more - in the words of Beyonce "Where the ladies up in here who like to talk back?!"

Hobie Brown, Romance, and Gender Roles

Why can I be the one calling him 'love', and 'darling', and 'sweetheart'?

Where's the fic where I'm the one comforting and taking care of him when he's sick/down?

Why can't Hobie be the one asked to be held?

There's something lacking here!!!!!!!

I honestly think Hobie would be into it, and find it very attractive - having a feminine partner who defies gender roles in their relationship purposefully and proudly.

Hobie loves subverting expectations and challenging society. So, and seeing many people unthinkingly assume he'd have a completely normal, routine heterosexual relationship without question -- uhhh I don't like that!!!

Like, Hobie is very clearly attractive. He's like 6'5", a guitarist, and punk. Let's be real, people of any gender are gonna be flirting with him, whether he's into it or not. He without a doubt gets flirted at all the time.

I think he'd love someone who cuts the bullshit and is like "You're really cute. I've got the biggest crush on you."

Not in a pushy way, but a relaxed way.

But I hardly ever see the x-reader advances being initiated by the reader. Why? It can be really nice to take the confidence to ask someone out and they say yes.

In fact, a lot of x-readers are written demure, passive, and down-right unhealthy in their ability to defend themselves and stand alone. So many are based off the x reader needing Hobie for some reason, whether it be confidence, or protection, or for him to teach them something.

Never Hobie needing the reader for something. Never Hobie being the one to express emotion and need comfort.

Which is funny, because Hobie can show emotions like anger, which he does in the comics. That's NEVER brought up in fics. In no fic do we have the reader witness Hobie hitting someone with a guitar or kicking them in the face. Which Hobie does do.

No, that's too violent for the romanticized fandom of Hobie. He has to be the good boyfriend to the shy girlfriend.

And I feel like there's a reason many of these x-readers are written this way - is heteronormativity and a dash of misogyny-flavored sexism involved??? maybe.

Especially with x fem readers, feminine people are always expected to be passive and submissive. Women in the real world are expected to mute their advances and 'be coy' for the sake of sexist 'respectability'.

We're taught that 'giving them the eyes' is (somehow??) an 'advance'. Or that you have to wait to be asked out or else you're 'too forward'.

[Insert Barbie Movie Monologue here]

Personally, I think Hobie would be SO refreshed by a girl who comes up to him and is like "Hey, are you busy on Friday? Do you wanna meet me then? I wanna go on a date with you."

Because, realistically 95% of the people in the Hobie fandom - including me - would probably be too nervous to even speak a sentence to Hobie.

So for someone to approach him directly, state their intentions, and be so open to potential rejection, that's impressive - I think he'd LOVE that shit!!!

I think it's a nice juxtaposition to have him with someone who diverges from the 'demure ideal of a girlfriend'.

A girl who walks around like Jessica Drew. Walks in the room like "My man is SEXY AF and he about to walk in so LOOK. BE JEALOUS."

I imagine so many people around him try to act like they DON'T like Hobie when they clearly do - and he can tell. So to have someone who isn't hiding it is a kind of candidness that differs from it all.

So often are women forced into the passive role of waiting to be 'chosen'. Fuck that, you want him, go get him.

Hobie, Romance, and Labels

I also think Hobie would REALLY like a partner who knows what they want.

I always see people be like 'Hobie doesn't like labels!! He wants to keep it casual!' or 'Nooo he was kidding about the labels thing - he'd love a committe-'

WHO SAYS HE'D BE THE ONE DEFINING THE SITUATION????????? WHO SAID HE GETS THE LAST SAY???!!!!!

I feel like Hobie would go fucking NUTS for a girl who is straight up like "yeah I'm just trying to fuck. Are you okay with that?" or "I like what we've got going on. I'm not looking for anything serious, but let's keep going."

Or a partner that is very clear about their labels. A person who's like "I like you but if you're not trying to be exclusive I'm gonna get a move on." Because he's not gonna have you out here looking DUMB, people better know you're in the mfing picture.

That's some grown ass shit! It shows she knows what she wants and that she's not wavering on it, even for him. He's with it. I don't think Hobie would be down to be like "I'm ur boyfriend now" OR "I'm ONLY down for fucking lol srry'.

She gets a say too. And she should be clear on what she wants.

If she's the one to take the initiative and name the game - that's great for him. He's down for whatever, what is it that YOU wanna do??

Hobie, Romance, and Intimacy (like for the grown folks 18+) __________________________________

🔞

In a LOT of fic and especially SMUT, it's always Hobie making the advances, or at least initiating them. In society, women are taught that's how is, that being sexually 'aggressive' and proactive - not just SUGGESTIVE - is inappropriate.

Wait till Hobie slaps your ass, then the smut could start. Wait till Hobie kisses you, then there's romance.

Nah, I'm the one smacking his ass. I'm the one pulling his belt loop saying Come 'ere. What if I'm the one who wants to pull him down for a first kiss, huh??? I gotta wait??

Even in dialogue-

In a lot of fics Hobie can talk as raunchy as ever, but the woman can't say 'pussy'? Hobie can say three sentences straight about how my coochie feel but the reader only gets to moan submissive requests back??

Can the dirty talk be two-sided? Because women should be allowed to be vocal in their pleasure.

Hobie can tell you he wants you to suck his dick, but when's the reader gonna say "Come eat this pussy like you mean it." HM??????

In fics the reader can only be suggestive - in order to bait him into initiating, like sending him a suggestive picture or throwing a bra on stage. But it's hardly ever the other way around. With the reader being the one to say 'Enough of the teasing, we fucking NEOW.'

Because in our society, a guy slipping a girl's shirt off to get the scene going is hot. But a woman going for a guys belt before he begins to undress her - nooo, that's too forward.

Maybe Hobie wants to feel like the sexy, desired, sought after one.

_______________________________________________

Hobie, Romance and Feminism

Let it be known: Hobie loves people who are socially educated!!!!

If you can look at him and explain what anarchism actually is - like in a politcal theory sense - I think he'd be impressed, because you're seeing through the 'pseudo-rockstar' persona he puts on.

Most if not all of his actions are choice are driven by political action, so having a partner educated in things like anarchy or communism just makes sense with him. Hobie cares about stuff like that, and actually goes out of his way to study and live in line with those ideals.

That includes feminism!!!

I think Hobie would love a girlfriend who is invested in feminism, cares about it, and thinks about it in her decision making.

A woman that is educated about her oppression and how to combat it, and purposefully goes against the strict stereotype labeled on women - especially feminine women - as an act of protest.

A girl who can and will defend herself, go off on, or put a sexist pig in their place. You can't tell me he wouldn't be into that.

Social movements of the oppressed are super important to Hobie, and I think feminism is the same, but I never see it mentioned.

I definitely think that Hobie would have a clear understanding of his privilege as a man and how that effects relationships.

I can see him being like "I'd never propose." Not because he hates labels, but because he acknowledges that for centuries marriage was used as a financial and social transaction to oppress and control women and their bodies, and he doesn't want to be involved in that.

Hit him with that "Same - the gold and diamond rings are trash anyway. Both materials being mined and pillaged in African nations for centuries at the expense of the indigenous populations really puts me off it."

He'd wanna somehow find a way to marry you without marrying you you know what i mean

Hobie loves feminism and feminists. Give him a 70's bra-burning feminism so help me god. He was alive for Roe v. Wade passing (1973), he KNOWS about feminism and probably knows many outspoken feminists.

Hobie, Romance and Individuality

You know what I don't like?

Headcanons or fics that be like "You and Hobie NEVER disagree or argue. Never ever, you always talk it out."

Like...Bullshit. I'm sorry but I don't think it's very realistic.

Hobie is a very opinionated too. He's very outspoken and when it comes to topics, and he usually knows exactly where he stands. I think, without a doubt he'd care what his partner thinks too.

Asking them about a record that's playing, or what they think of a movie they saw in the past, or a new political issue going on. He'd absolutely ask, because he cares. He's interested.

If if ya'll are never disagreeing that means:

Either you agree with his opinion all the time without fail or exception OR

You're biting your tongue around him

I don't think one is very realistic in terms of things. You can't like every song your boyfriend likes. You can't like every movie he shows you, or agree on EVERY political issue. That's not how people are.

And for two - if you're biting your tongue around him, he'll notice.

Yes, Hobie is a very emotionally intelligent person and extremely compassionate. But he's also very strong in his morals, thoughts, and beliefs. He doesn't budge.

If you're biting your tongue, I'd imagine he'd be like "You wanna say something." or "Whatever you're thinking just say it." cause he can see it in your face.

He's not trying to put you on the spot, he just wants to know what you're thinking.

When you explain what you're thinking, he's probably gonna wanna hear why, and respond, etc etc.

Hobie is a very individualistic person, and I think he'd be drawn to someone who is as well. Someone who is solid in their opinions and personhood enough to express them.

It leads to interesting conversation and knowing each other deeper -It's a form of intimacy.

If you watch a film with him and don't like it, he's gonna ask why. Did you not like the theme? Was the dialogue bad? What part did you think sucked the most, he thought x, y, z. What do you think about the part he disliked, did you notice a,b,c?

I feel like Hobie would want to know his partner deeply, and he'd care and love the things that make them different from each other.

Including differing opinions.

Discussions and debates aren't bad. Discussing something and getting heated defending your point can be really fun and stimulating, if it's with someone you care about and the two parties are mature and not assholes.

Tell him why you think he's wrong about something - he wants an excuse to talk more about his opinion. INTELLECTUALLY CHALLENGE HIM DONT JUST AGREE.

Along with being very individualistic, Hobie is very independent. He refused to rely on the Society for their watches - he made his own. So I think the next important thing to him is:

Hobie, Romance and Independence

I like the idea of Hobie having a partner that has their own place and is committed to that, and their space.

Or a partner that emotionally supports him!!

95% of the time, he's the one asking what's wrong, or holding reader, or comforting them.

Can we get hectic bf and organized girlfriend energy?? A gf where he says plans during missions and she's like "What are you thinking? You're gonna get us killed."

A gf that soothes HIM when he gets angry - cause comic Hobie GETS angry, especially after a fight.

Give me ONE, ONE fic where he's drunk coming from a pub and READER has to deal with drunk Hobie and put him to bed.

Hobie is ALWAYS expected to take care of himself, and the people around him. He takes pride in this and he's good at it. But why should he have to do it all the time?

_____________________________________________

In general,

Hobie is a confident person. He knows what he wants, and how to handle himself, and how to approach people and get respect just by being himself. He's assured, and outspoken, and VERY independent. He does what he wants, when he wants and lets you know when it happens

I think pairing him with a confident, assured, outspoked, independent person is only natural. I think him having a relationship with a personality like his would be a ROCK SOLID one.

There's be no fics like 'Groupies were bullying you' because his she would be like "Sis, if I swing on you he isn't gonna hold me back so be careful."

I want a reader that when they do that trope of 'A girl was flirting in front of him making you insecure and uncomfortable' - The reader squashes it right there. Like "Girl, I know you see me standing here. You know we're together. Cut the cute shit!!"

I'm tired of fics taking me for an insecure, submissive, demure, sexually innocent, wimp of a babydoll girlfriend that needs to be babied at every turn. There's nothing wrong with being shy and demure, but when it's all you're offering it's not gonna cut it.

Especially not for Hobie Brown.

Let the tall, dark, actively oppressed black man be the one to vent, or be held, or romanced, and spoken sweetly too. There's so many comfort fics, but not many of them consider Hobie's own trauma - and how a relationship could include that.

Hobie Brown deserves more.

_______________________________________________

If you wanna know how I use this to write a non-conventional relationship for Hobie, that's below this break.

Okay so I'mma leave it here but if you read this far, thank you!!!! I be SO pissed when fics be talking me (Y/N) as a punk (in the wimpy sense not the Hobie sense). Like...nah I wouldve said something in a lot of situations. Irk my last nerve. Like the one where the girl PINCHES you??? Like?? Nah I we would've been fighting, I'm sorry this is unrealistic

Alsooo the section below is about my Spidersona Disco-Spider and how I encorporated all of this into her creation- because I wanted to write a sona who subtly defied gender roles while still being feminine. So if you wanna read there thank you so much, and if not, thanks for reading this far! He's a pic of Hobie in thanks!

[If you wanna check out Part 2 for direct examples, how to write NCRs, and a more in depth look into Disco and Hobie - check it out here]

_______________________________________________

DiscoSpider Diane and The Great Groupie Act [How I use all of this to a write a feminist Spidersona and a non-conventional relationship]

Diane is a HUGE Hobie Groupie - and that's kinda of her main thing.

She runs the Hobie Brown Fanclub on campus, attends all his shows, and wears his guitar pick. She's into him and she's not afraid to show it.

I wanted to write Diane as a purposeful groupie, one who is fine with the title, and even leans into it. Because a lot of the time - and in a lot of fics including guitarists - 'groupie' is seen as a negative thing.

Like K-pop stans, being a 'groupie' - and openly expressing your romantic interest in a hot guy is seen as desperation.

But I wanted to write her as one in spite of this. To swap 'desperation' for unwavering boldness. A girl with the motto 'Closed mouths don't get fed'.

And much like Hobie uses the 'typical punk' label to disarm others, I wanted Diane to mirror that - in the opposite direction.

Diane is a self-proclaimed groupie. And because of that, many (mainly misogynists) assume that she can't think for herself - or at all. And Diane can use that to her advantage.

If Miguel and Jess really believe she only cares about conversations involving Hobie, then they'll talk like she isn't there. And she can listen. If it looks like she's hanging all over him, no one realizes if she's slipping him information.

And it also helps in their relationship.

They both enjoy their privacy.

HQ prohibits relationships between Spidey-people. It's an anomaly waiting to happen - and they make sure to keep a close eye out for it. Plus with Jess breathing down her neck, it's much easier for Diane and Hobie to just keep it underwraps.

In comes the Groupie persona.

No one actually expects the groupie to get the guy. She's desperate, and he's the player guitarist. Plus, if they were dating she couldn't be a 'groupie' right? They wouldn't make sense, would it?

They let people make their own assumptions. By calling herself a groupie, suddenly people think there's no possible way there's something going on, and they don't look closer.

This also allows them the freedom of no labels. Are they boyfriend and girlfriend? Nah she's his groupie. Quit asking questions.

All of this allows me to write Disco in a way that connects back to everything in this post.

By calling herself a 'Groupie' suddenly Diane can subvert expectations of affection, avoid the pressures of labels, and control her image and the amount of information she lets on to people

That in turn helps me write their relationship in a nonconventional way - a way that challenges misogyny around affection and reclaims a sexist fan trope for something more empowering.

Sure, the concept seems silly at first. The ditsy, bubbly, party girl on campus, but I wanted there to be a reason and drive behind it.

Disco-Spider Diane is exactly who she wants to be, an unapologetic, outspoken disco-girl. One that's highly educated and knows her shit.

And also a huge groupie.

-----------------------------------------------

If you've read this far, thank you so much. It genuinely means a lot to me! This is reaaaaaallly long.

[Part 2 here]

Now how about you take this photo of Hobie and we both pretend like me writing this is normal well-adjusted behavior okay? okay

Bye.

#im back and I got something to say!!!!!!#these are just my opinions and Headcanons #but also they're correct I know because I'm with Hobie right now in my mind palace and he told me all this #no proofread ever lolllll #spiderman #atsv #hobie brown #marvel #spider man #spider punk #spiderpunk #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #atsv anaylsis

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its-your-mind · 7 days

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Jon Chester trying to communicate and/or comfort with statements is the cutest and funniest and most in-character shit.

Sam just joined a possibly-evil organization and seems way too interested in gaining knowledge from the stories? Has a history with the Magnus Institute? Well fuck I can’t let him end up back there.

Canaries should stay above ground.

Colin keeps looking too hard into what he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t know enough to stay safe. I have to warm him.

Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed. Scariest movie I have ever seen.

(Brief interlude when Jon finds out that Gerry is alive and has a permanent address which is a big enough ??? and feeling of relief and hope to risk a single email with an address so Sam can go see for him if it really is Gerry, if he’s really alive and if he’s okay (and then he is he’s happy and safe and he paints and goes to art shows and he calls Gertrude GeeGee). Bit of a shame about the name in the email address, though. Who knows, maybe that woman will stop calling him fucking Chester…)

Ahem.

Anyway, Sam won’t let the whole “Magnus Institute” thing go, and now Celia is here? Working here? Recognizing his voice? (Martin had to remind him who Celia was — Jon feels that his lack of remembrance is justified, in this case. Those tunnels blocked off his connection to the Eye! Remember what happened with the camera at Salesa’s? He forgot everything that happened there! Frankly, he’s impressed he even managed to remember meeting Melanie and Georgie down there, let alone the names of their awful annoying cult members. (Jon, be nice. It was the apocalypse). Well, I didn’t see you cozying up with that poet, whatever his name was— (*with sudden disgust* Arun.) *trying to keep a straight face* ah. yes, him.) What is Jon supposed to do about this? Well. Fine. If Sam intends to poke around, Jon can at least make the dangers present there clear.

Statement and Research assessment for artefact CD137. Magnus Institute. … [Transcription ends due to interruption. Statement giver declared dead by paramedics at scene.]

So. They went to the Institute. He knows about all of it, there was a tape recorder there. They were… in the Archives. In the assistants’ area where Tim used to throw the caps of his glitter pens to see how many he could get caught in Sasha’s hair before she noticed. Looking at the decrepit remains of the filing shelves he had been so fucking stressed about organizing. In his office.

Worms tracks on the ground. All paperwork removed or destroyed. And when Sam steps wrong, the tunnels. Oh, Christ. The tunnels. He drops a key down into them as he falls. Alice catches him. They leave. Some…thing takes the key Sam dropped. Unlocks the trapdoor, the one Leitner and Gertrude used to get in and out of the Archives. Here in Manchester, maybe the only way out of the underground passages. The trapdoor opens. Something pulls itself out.

~~~

And now, Alice has been being stalked by drowned corpses. Okay, sure. Yeah, shit uhhh… okay here’s one. Here, look, same kinda thing happened here. That tattoo artist shows up again too! Gotta keep track of reoccurrences. Learn as much as you can — the tip-off about the fire extinguishers saved Jon, Tim, and Martin in the archives. (And Sasha, before that… thing lured her into Artifact Storage.)

It belongs to the deep. I’m going to go get it and I’m going to find it and if they try and stop me I swear the ocean will claim us all. I can taste the salt and spray. It’s waiting in the water.

And now back to Sam. Back to warnings. It’s not just artifacts. The Institute deals with dangerous people, too.

This room, it’s a mess. Printouts, delivery notes, a bunch of rejection letters from some institute he pinned to the wall with a kitchen knife. And it's hot in here, dad. Too hot. Oh god. I can feel it. My throat is swelling. And it itches. I can still hear all the snakes brushing up against the door and... in the walls, I think. Christ, they’re in the walls...

Alice got attacked. He was there, he managed to get a tape on the scene, he heard it all. It was one of the drowned things.

Ink5oul knows something about them. What the hell, right? Michael gave Sasha the tip about the fire extinguishers. Let’s mine another colorful creep for information. Ink5oul dug one of these things up for some reason. Hold on, hold on, he just saw something about them, something about getting some kid to follow them to a graveyard…

We head on through the graves and then they point to one of ‘em and just give me a look. I was no cap shook and then they just said “dig”. I laughed, ‘cause, like, the ‘hell? But they were serious.

And at the same time, Celia keeps waking up on the ground, closer and closer to Oxford each time, like there’s something gently tugging her back towards the world she left. She doesn’t know how to stop it. Jon knows how that feels, the feeling like your own body is just a puppet tangled in invisible strings, at risk of starting a dance you don’t know, to music you can’t hear, at any moment, without any warning.

There isn’t anything that he can really do to help her. But he found it comforting to hear what happened to Gertrude.

I’ve lived Darien’s life for four years now. It wasn’t as hard as you’d think, turns out your world and mine are pretty similar.

CELIA (to computer): Thanks, I guess. Not exactly the same is it?

No. No, it’s not. He knows that there isn’t really any comfort to be found in knowledge when all you learn only points you more and more towards the conclusion that you are alone, and helpless, and powerless against the forces that are dead-set on fucking up your life.

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #chester tmagp #magp 17

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bitterkarella · 21 days

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Midnight Pals: Magic Man

Kiersten White: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the creepy kids show Stephen King: oh excellent! a creepy pasta! King: my boy joe told me all about those King: like that scary cartoon sponge man! Joe Hill: it was squidward, dad King: right right of course joe

White: this isn't a creepypasta White: it's about a weird show that everyone vaguely remember watching but can't remember any details of White: and also the time slot and channel mysteriously seem to shift Kris Straub: ah! candle cove! White: no White: no this is different

King: haha remember in candle cove when the boat is all King: "you have to go inside" Straub: yeah i remember Poe: spooky stuff! Koontz: ha ha! "you have to go inside" White: White: it's not candle cove

Barker: you're all saying it wrong Barker: it's all like Barker: "you have to go.... INSIDE" Barker: see, you gotta get the inflection right King: you said it exactly the same Barker: no it was way scarier when i said it King: "you have to go... inside" Barker: hmm no not quite right King: i don't see the difference Barker: kris who said it right Kris Straub: clive Barker: see??? King: i really don't think i said it any different White: ANYWAY

White: this is about a creepy kids show called Mister Magic White: these kids are forced to live on a set away from their parents White: until one kids dad tries to take her away White: but try to understand dad White: try to understand White: try try try to understand White: he's a magic man

White: now it's 30 years later and she's going to a show reunion White: and she's all "hey what happened 30 years ago? i forgot" White: and everyone's all "lol not telling!" White: gotta preserve the mystery White: at least til the final reel

White: see, these Mormons found an eldritch god in the desert White: and they thought White: you know what would be good to do with this? White: make a kids show about how you should always be polite King: uhhh Poe: no actually that kinda scans

White: the now grown up kids from the show have to reunite White: and defeat mister magic through the power of um... King: understanding? White: Yeah! it can totally be like understanding or forgiveness or something White: they overcome all their fears White: and they turn out totally fine

King: i didn't know candle cove was really just lessons about being polite! White: IT'S NOT CANDLE COVE King: "you have to go... INSIDE!!" Straub: there Straub: there it is Straub: you got it that time

King: creepypastas are so much fun, why don't we have more of them around here? Mr Creepypasta: now I've heard a guy tell a story hundreds of times. saying perfectly ordinary words. just mouth sounds. perfectly ordinary. nothing weird about them. very normal. nothing to worry about Chillz: here's the TOP tennnn VIDEooooos PROvinGGGG THAT the dracullllaaaa is real King: oh yeah now i remember

Eric Knudsen: i have a story about the terrible secret of space HP Lovecraft: what Lovecraft: what is the terrible secret of space? Lovecraft: is it a color? Lovecraft: cuz i already know that one

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #kiersten white #eric knudsen #mr creepypasta #kris straub #chillz

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊boba time ┊Mama’s Harvest ꒱

『♡』 pregnancy

Your fingers fiddle with the little flower bud in your hands and you use the back of your hand to wipe sweat from your forehead. The sun is beginning to beat down on you, drenching your skin in rays.

“Almost done?” Katsuki startles you, leaning over from behind where you kneel.

You bounce, dropping the flower and turning around to give him a glare.

“Yeah, jus’ gotta finish pollinating the squash or it’ll produce less..” You remind, returning to the task at hand.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes and begins making his way through the garden with a basket in hand. Leaves rustle and the tell-tale sound of stuff flopping to the ground let’s you know he’s harvesting.

“Babe..” He calls and you glance over in his direction.

“Hmmm?” You wonder, nearly finished with your chores.

“How many peppers did you plant?” Katsuki inquires and you freeze.

“Uhhh..” Your mind races for an answer and you begin counting on your fingers. Whispering to yourself and naming off varieties.

“We’re gonna drown in peppers, holy shit.” He jokes, rounding one of the rows with a massive basket filled with different pepper varieties.

Katsuki rushes you inside, complaining that you shouldn’t be in the heat for too long and you pout. Still, you do as told and go inside to make lunch and relax.

There’s a lot of pros to your husband being a pro hero. One, you don’t need to work. You can if you want to but you don’t. Katsuki gives you all the money you want and more, no questions asked.

He doesn’t push unrealistic expectations on you, either. You had a career for years of your relationship and for the first two years of being married.

But when Katsuki came behind you with red cheeks and shy eyes, saying he wanted s little one, it was time for a change. Pregnancy is hard on the body and both of you thought it would be best to have you home for at least the first three years of the little melons life.

You aren’t far along, either. But your husband is persistent.

You watch from the kitchen window as he grabs another basket and scissors, only to come back with an abundance of herbs and fruits. Nothing in life rivals these moments.

You turn, grabbing s large knife and a cutting board to begin slicing a bunch of green onion. The knife hits the bamboo with a satisfying “knock knock knock” and you sigh in content.

Nausea bubbles in your throat and you push it down, thinking about all good things.

The door creaks open and Katsuki places the woven baskets on the table. You hear footsteps before his large hands are on your lower tummy. His head comes to rest on top of yours, where the places a kiss and sighs.

“So, when should we tell ma?” He ponders.

The cutting stops and you set down the metal utensil, turning to face him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders where they lay purchase, tugging your body closer to his own.

“Mmm.. not sure m’ love. Whadd’you think?” You mirror his mindset, unsure of what the best option would be.

“Well you’re the one growing the baby, so I thought you’d wanna do it a certain way- I dunno people get sentimental about this shit.” Katsuki’s damp lips come to rest on your forehead for a moment.

“Well I can’t hide it much longer- fuck it why don we just invite them over for dinner to get some of these peppers? We can tell em then!” You propose, shooting a look at all the excess fruit and vegetables.

“Yeah, we can do that, I’ll tell ‘em. What time?”

Katsuki’s breaking away, using his hip to bump you over so he can take over cooking. You smack his shoulder and he flinches. It stings even when he’s got a dark grey shirt on, no match for your mood.

You scowl and grab another cutting board and a bell pepper. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“Baby I’m pregnant not dying. I’m cutting the damn bell pepper. And mm eight, we’ll do that.”

Before long, all the colorful foods are cut and turned into a large dinner. Sitting in front of you is chicken legs smothered in seasonings and drizzled in gravy over mashed potatoes. Your stomach grumbles and you nearly sigh in relief when his parents walk in.

The conversation continues as normal until you’re met with a wave of nausea. Your face scrunches and despite attempting to hide it- his mother notices. His father isn’t paying any mind, looking at the massive side salad you’ve prepared.

Her eyes narrow and her mouth opens.

“So, uh-“ Katsuki begins, cherry eyes flicking over to meet your own.

“I’m pregnant.” You reveal and his mother slaps the shit out of katsuki on instinct.

It isn’t malicious, she’s practically bouncing. A wide grin wipes across her face and she looks toward her husband with a giggle.

“Fucking FINALLY!” She yells and katsuki looks at her incredulously.

“Don’t look at me like that Katsuki! I’ve been wanting grand babies for years now!” His mother scolds, looking at you with a bright smile.

Katsuki takes a breath, nice and slow to steady himself, while your mother prods with questions. You’re eating, talking about the ins and outs of pregnancy while his father pitches in warmly.

He grumbles in the corner, telling his mom to shut up, and makes faces at some of the things he didn’t expect.

“Yunno, with this asshole, I really craved sweets. But the hardest part of being pregnant with him was probably the hemorrhoids and kicking. God- the kicking was horrible.” His mother explains, stuffing a last bite of mashed potato in her mouth.

You giggle at your husbands angry and confused face from the side. He seems almost offended that pregnancy could be so horrible.

“Why was the kicking so bad?” He pokes, much more gentle than usual.

“Ahh.. it feels like butterflies at first, yunno? But you moved a lot-“ she grabs a sip of water, tilting her head towards him, and places the glass back down.

“-that’s fine and all at first. But you got stronger and it hurt, at one point you had your foot pressed against my ribs for two hours! You’d just kick and it was a constant mild uncomfortable feeling..”

The blonde to your right furrows his brows and takes a sip of his own water. The metal fork he was once using placed on the side of his dish.

“Well, that… makes sense.” Katsuki thinks out loud and looks over towards you.

The dinner ends with kisses and hugs. His mother says she’s coming over in a few days with a couple pregnancy life savers and demands to have copies of the ultrasounds.

Katsuki takes his time that night while you bathe. He massages your shoulders and back, up your ankles and thighs and kisses your tummy. You catch him whispering for the little melon to be sweet to you and nearly coo at the man.

The next day, he brings in a large notebook and grabs a pen. “Baby Food” is messily written at the top and you smile.

A kiss is placed to the top of his head, then a kiss to your lower stomach, like it’s becoming routine.

There’s something fond, simple, and beautiful about the way he falls into fatherhood without question.

#pregnancy #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #strawberry cake #boba time #boba series: garden

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daytaker · 5 months

Note

hii hellooo, may i request brothers with a clown core mc? their outfits most often being very colorful but their personality being the opposite? like somewhat cold and very blunt, not talking much and if talking then it’s about something mildly disturbing like murder investigations or an odd fascination with deadly diseases stuff like that

sorry that it’s extremely specific and thank you regardless _(┐「ε:)_

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

When you first arrived, no one was sure what to think. They looked you over. Your pink hair, your cyan shorts. A yellow T-shirt and rainbow suspenders. Gaudy makeup and adorable pink tennis shoes. Beaded bracelets and necklaces and colorful tights.

And a box of smokes in your back pocket.

"Welcome to the House of Lamentation," Lucifer says, gesturing grandly at the stately mansion ahead of you.

You say nothing. Instead, you pull out a cigarette and a lighter. Taking a drag, you lazily gaze at the house, then back at your host, who looks disgusted.

"Make sure you only do that outside," he says, nodding to the box of cigarettes in your hand.

You blow a puff of smoke in his face and start walking to the door, completely ignoring the sounds of Lucifer struggling to contain his rage.

"Why's it called that?" you finally ask as you stop at the front doors. "'House of Lamentation'?"

Lucifer, having composed himself by now, steps up beside you. "This is a replica of a house from the human world," he explains. "In it, an entire family was murdered; the parents, the servant, and six of their seven sons. The seventh--"

"Ohhh. This is the Sutton house," you say, nodding.

"Excuse me?"

"The Sutton house. Massachusetts, 1923. Elijah Sutton, oldest of seven sons, runs into the local tavern screaming that his servant killed the whole family and himself. Most folks today think it was Elijah who really did it. I know I do."

You take one more drag from your cigarette, then drop it on the ground and put it out with the heel of your shoe.

"So this is their house, huh? Sick."

---

It's breakfast on your second day in the Devildom. You took extra time to apply your godawful makeup this morning, and you're sure it shows, because the brothers keep glancing at you as if they're not quite sure what they should say.

"You talk to them, Mammon," mumbles Satan. "You're their babysitter."

"Ah... ahem." Mammon casts a glare at his brother, then looks at you. "So, uh... Human." You stare at him with a dead-eyed expression that seems to unnerve him even more. "...We're goin' to RAD today, and there's a couple a things you should know." You continue staring.

Mammon looks to his brothers for help, but they all avoid eye contact. "Uhhh... Just... try not to get eaten, 'kay? Lucifer'll be pissed if you die on my watch."

"Do demons eat people?" you ask. "Like, raw?"

"Sometimes! So don't mess around with 'em, got it?"

"That's gotta be messy as fuck."

"It is!"

"You got any photos?"

"....Eh?"

---

"So I get that you're the seven deadly sins," you say to Satan, sprawled out in an armchair in the library, "but like... is that all you guys got here?"

Satan, who had been minding his own business and innocently reading a book of curses, looks irritated. "Is that all of what?"

"I dunno. Bad shit shaped like people." You shrug. "Like, you got the Four Horsemen or somethin'?"

"Of course not," Satan snaps. "That would be ridiculous."

You shrug. "Embodiment of plague? Too ridiculous to believe. Embodiment of wrath? Well, obviously that's a thing."

---

"You have to make pacts with Lucifer and his brothers," Belphie urges you through the door. You stare at him, then take a drag from your cigarette. As long as Lucifer is occupied in the music room with that weird record, you're going to break every rule in this damn house.

"How am I supposed to do that? Am I gonna split up my soul Horcrux style? Give everybody a slice?"

Belphie stares at you for a few seconds. You don't realize how badly he wishes he could kill you in this moment. "Are you going to help me or not?"

You shrug. "What do I get out of it?"

He blinks at you in utter bewilderment. "You... make me happy?"

You stare at him. He stares at you. You stare at him. He continues to stare at you.

You head back down the stairs.

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