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#yeah i know i have way too many projects right now
harrysfolklore · 1 day
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when in italy - harry blurb
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MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
"I swear is this way!" a very drunk Harry said, pointing out to the street in front of him, "I've walked down these streets a shit ton of times, I know how to get back."
"Harry, darling," Alessandro said, standing in front of him, "Let's just admit that we're lost and ask for directions."
"No! I know the way!" he stubbornly protested and headed the way he initially pointed, almost tripping on his own feet due to his drunk state.
Alessandro followed him, he knew how stubborn Harry got whenever he was drunk, and decided to trust him with the task of getting them back to their place in Italy for their holiday.
"Harry, I'm afraid we're walking in circles," Alessandro said once he noticed that they were back in the same place they were a few minutes before and they had been walking for almost 10 minutes now.
"Shit," Harry stopped on his tracks, "I think we're lost."
Alessandro rolled his eyes at his friend, "I'm going to ask for directions."
Harry sat on the sidewalk as he watched his friend walk towards some shops that were still open in the area, giggling to himself over the fact that he got lost in the place he called his second hometown (that, and the fact that he was completely wasted)
"Hey," a soft voice called for him, making him look up, "I'm sorry to bother you but I heard you and your friend are kind of lost, I live around the area and I could give you directions if you need them."
Harry blinked a few times, trying to get a proper look at the person in front of him in his drunken state.
And once he did, oh boy was he mesmerized.
The young woman standing before him had a warm smile, her eyes sparkling under the streetlights. She looked at Harry with a mix of amusement and concern, clearly recognizing him but choosing not to make a big deal out of it.
"Thanks," Harry slurred, trying to get up from the sidewalk and failing spectacularly. He giggled again, this time at his own clumsiness. "I think I need some help."
"Yeah, I think you do," she laughed softly and reached out a hand to help him up, "I'm YN, by the way," she introduced herself as Harry took her hand, his grip unsteady.
"I'm Harry," he replied, still looking at her with a dopey grin. "Alessandro!" Harry yelled out calling for his friend, who was making his way back to them, "I found this pretty girl that says she can walk us back home."
The girl felt her cheeks burn at his words, looking away from him in hopes that her blush would disappear.
"Thank you so much for your help," he said, "I'm Alessandro."
"Nice to meet you, Alessandro," YN said warmly, "So, where are you two trying to go?"
Harry attempted to answer but ended up mumbling incoherently. Alessandro stepped in, giving her the address of their holiday home.
"Oh, that's just a few blocks away," YN said, "I'll walk you there. It's no trouble."
"You're an angel," Harry proclaimed dramatically, leaning on Alessandro for support as they started walking.
"So, YN," Harry said as they walked down the street, "Do you live here, or are you just visiting?"
"I live here," she said, "Moved here a few years ago for work and fell in love with the place. It's a beautiful city."
"It really is," Alessandro agreed, "Thanks again for helping us out, Harry can be a bit stubborn when he's had a few too many."
"I'm not!" Harry protested, "I know this place like the back of my hand, I'm just dizzy right now."
"It’s alright, Harry," YN laughed softly at Harry’s protest, finding his drunken stubbornness endearing, "We all have our moments."
As they walked, Harry continued to lean heavily on Alessandro, but his attention was fixed on YN. "So, what do you do here, YN?"
"I’m a photographer," she replied, glancing at Harry with a smile. "I came here for a project and ended up staying. The city has a way of pulling you in."
Harry nodded enthusiastically, almost losing his balance again, making both Alessandro and YN giggle.
 "What kind of photography do you do?" Alessandro chimed in.
"Mostly street photography and portraits," YN explained. "I love capturing candid moments, the beauty in everyday life."
"That’s amazing," Alessandro said genuinely, "You must have some incredible shots."
"I do love my work. It’s always different, always exciting."
"Do you ever take pictures of drunk idiots lost in the streets?" Harry joked making YN throw her head back in laughter.
 "Not yet, but there's a first time for everything," YN chuckled.
"I’d love to see your work sometime," Harry grinned widely at her response.
"Maybe you will," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere.
As they neared the holiday home, Alessandro let out a sigh of relief. "Here we are," he announced, pointing to the familiar building.
"Thanks a million, YN," Harry said, his words slurring slightly but his gratitude clear. "You're a lifesaver."
"Glad I could help," she said with a warm smile. "Get some rest, Harry."
"I will," Harry said, "We should hang out sometime. Maybe when I'm not so… wobbly. Actually, can I have your number?"
She stood in her place for a moment, completely taken back by the fact that Harry boldly asked for her number.
And when she was about to give it to him, she remembered that he was drunk, and he probably wouldn't remember a single detail about the interaction.
"You should get some rest, Harry," she smiled, "And I need to head back to my house, It's getting late."
"Wait, you're not going to give me your number?" Harry said, a disappointed tone in his voice.
"Not tonight, Harry," she said gently, "But if we run into each other again, I'll consider it."
Harry pouted, about to protest again, but Alessandro gave him a nudge.
"Come on, Harry, let's get you inside. Thank you again, YN."
"You're welcome," she said, waving them off as they entered the building. "Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Alessandro."
"Goodnight," Alessandro replied, helping Harry up the stairs to their apartment.
Once inside, Harry flopped onto the couch, still thinking about the lovely girl who helped them get to their house in one piece, completely gobsmacked about how beautiful she was.
 "She was nice, wasn't she?" he mumbled.
"She was," Alessandro agreed, "Now get some sleep, Harry. You need it."
The next morning, Harry woke up with a pounding headache and a hazy memory of the previous night. He groaned as he sat up, trying to piece together the fragments of what had happened.
"Morning, sunshine," Alessandro greeted him, handing over a glass of water and some painkillers.
"Thanks," Harry muttered, taking the pills and the water, "What happened last night? Did we get lost?"
"We did," Alessandro confirmed with a chuckle, "And a lovely girl named YN helped us find our way back."
Harry's eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The memory of her pretty eyes, nice smile and interesting talk making immediately smile.
"YN... Oh, I asked for her number, didn't I?"
"You did," Alessandro said, "But she didn't give it to you. Said if you ran into each other again, she'd consider it."
Harry sighed, leaning back against the couch, pouting when he realized that he probably wouldn't run into the pretty girl again.
"You'll have time to pout about your little crush later," Alessandro spoke again, "Right now we need to go get some kitchenware, otherwise we won't be able to cook anything."
"Right, we were supposed to do that today," Harry said as he stood up, "Let me grab a quick shower and we can go."
Once he was ready, he and Alessandro headed out to the local shop to get the kitchenware they needed. The store was bustling with people, and Harry found himself scanning the crowd, hoping that he would run into YN again somehow.
He felt like a silly teenager with a brand new crush, but even in his drunken state he could tell that the girl was nice and genuine, and he definitely wanted to get to know her better.
He also thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. 
"Still thinking about her, huh?" Alessandro teased as they walked through the aisles.
"Is it obvious?," Harry admitted, picking up a set of kitchen knives. "Can't help it mate."
They moved through the store, gathering the items they needed. As they approached the checkout counter, Harry's attention was drawn to a girl climbing up a ladder to reach something on the top shelf. The ladder wobbled, and without thinking, Harry rushed over to steady it.
"Careful there," he said, his hands firmly holding the ladder.
"Oh, thank you," the girl said her attention focused on grabbing a small box from the top shelf.
And when she looked down and her eyes met Harry's, he felt his heart jump.
"YN?" Harry said, almost in shock that it was really her.
YN's eyes widened in surprise and then lit up with recognition. "Harry! Hi again," she said, climbing down the ladder carefully.
"What a coincidence," Harry grinned, still holding the ladder to ensure it was steady. "Need any more help with that?"
"No, I think I've got it. Thanks, though," she shook her head, holding the box she had retrieved, "What are you doing here?"
"Just getting some stuff for our holiday home," Harry explained. "And trying not to get lost again."
"Well, it's a good thing you didn't get lost in the store," YN laughed softly, "Thanks for holding the ladder."
"Anytime," Harry said, still grinning. "Are you buying some stuff too?"
"No, this is my friend's shop, I'm just helping out for a bit," she replied, "It's nice to see you again, Harry."
"Nice to see you too," Harry said, his tone sincere, "And I mean it. I was hoping I'd run into you again."
 "Well, here we are," she blushed slightly, looking away for a moment.
"Well, if it isn't our guardian angel," Alessandro walked over, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the girl.
"Just doing my good deed for the day," YN laughed softly, "It's good to see you're both in one piece after last night."
"I was pretty out of it, wasn't I?" Harry said, a hint of embarrassment on his voice.
"A bit, but it was kind of endearing," YN admitted, a twinkle in her eye.
"Well, I'm glad you thought so," he said, "I was worried I made a fool of myself."
"Not at all," YN reassured him, "It was actually quite charming."
Harry smiled, his eyes fixed on the girl. He still didn't understand how it happened, but he was completely smitten over her without even properly meeting her yet.
"We should checkout our stuff and head back," Alessandro said, "It was lovely to see you again, YN."
"It was lovely to see you too," she said, waving them off, "Have a great rest of your day, both of you."
Harry gave her one last smile before following Alessandro to the checkout. As they walked out of the store, Harry couldn't help but feel elated.
"I can't believe I ran into her again," he said, his excitement evident.
"Seems like fate," Alessandro teased, "Did you ask for her number properly now?"
"Shit!" Harry stopped on his tracks, "Shit! I forgot to ask for her number."
"Then what are you doing here, go back in there and ask her."
Harry didn't need his friend to say it twice before he was almost running into the store again, determined to get the girl's number once and for all.
He re entered the store, scanning the aisles looking for the girl, he spotted her at the counter, talking to another customer. He approached them, trying to catch her eye.
"Hey, YN," he said once she was done with the customer, "Last night I asked for your number, and you said that you'll consider giving it to me if we ever ran into each other," a small smile creept into the girl's face at his words, "And well, here we are, right?"
Harry felt like a total schoolboy, his hands almost sweating as he spoke. YN smiled even widely now, tilting her head to the side.
"You remember that, huh?" she asked.
"I could never forget," Harry matched her smile.
"Well, I did promise to consider it," YN said playfully, "And I think I've made my decision."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she replied with a smile, "I'd love to give you my number."
And once again, Harry felt like his heart could combust from happiness and excitement.
YN reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. She scribbled something on it and handed it to him.
"There you go," she said, handing the piece of paper to him, "Now, don't lose this one."
"I won't, I promise," Harry said, his tone earnest. "Thank you, YN. I'll text you very soon."
"I'll be waiting," she said, her smile warm.
Harry waved as they left the store, clutching the piece of paper with YN's number in his hand. He couldn't stop smiling, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.
Once he met Alessandro outside, he looked at him with a teasing smile.
"Looks like you got your wish."
"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the paper again. "And I don't plan on letting this opportunity slip away."
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pekoeboo · 10 months
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finally feel like I'm at a point where I can share this idea!!! so @cookieg122 and I have been working on an AU for a few months now that's a pretty big departure from the Minecraft stuff we've been working on, as it's more of a fully-original concept instead ;o;
this story has a proper name, as well!! titled Codename: IRIS, the plot centers around a younger Khalan, who gets into gaming as a form of escape from his abusive home life and the stress of moving to a new country/big city. but he quickly finds out that the game console he was gifted actually houses a seemingly-sentient AI - of which he names Aya.
the two go on adventures through various video games to stop a different, malevolent AI that's threatening to corrupt the virtual world; all while utilizing futuristic VR technology to do so. but they also take breaks sometimes with more typical PC gaming and meet Antony along the way, who ends up being a sort of "guide" for Khalan (as the kid is pretty new to video games as a whole) :'0
unfortunately, the virtual threat does end up spreading to the real world as well, which pushes Khalan and Aya (who can move freely between the game console and his phone) to solve challenges within the city itself in a race against the clock to stop the threat - just as long as Khalan manages to get back home in time before his dad finds out;;
there's so much more to this story that I can't really cover in just a single post, but I felt like it was finally time to at least reveal the basics of this concept to y'all!! it's been a lot of fun to re-imagine these characters within a "real life" setting (taking place in an alternate version of Earth in the year 203X), though it's still very sci-fi at its core, lol.
anyway! that's all I can really share for now! hope y'all like ;0;
Aya Armas belongs to @cookieg122. please do not remove caption or repost. also on deviantart
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evilminji · 2 months
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Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...
W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?
Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.
Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.
He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?
Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.
Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.
Yeah, he can SORTA push through.
But he suuuucks.
And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.
He figured he could ramble about Space!
It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?
So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.
But a few they WILL.
Some of which, are currently? Only half written.
But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.
Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???
He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."
It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.
He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.
But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.
....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.
And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.
Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.
Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*
And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!
And no one can get rid of it.
Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.
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tgcg · 5 months
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candid detail. my biggest project so far
hey happy new year
CG: DAVE?
TG: yeah?
CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.
TG: oh shit
===
TG: yeah whats up
TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances
CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.
TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset
TG: lay it on me
===
CG: OKAY. SO.
CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.
===
TG: oh
CG: LET ME FINISH.
CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…
===
CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?
TG: what
TG: us
CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.
===
CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.
CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.
===
CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"
CG: "WHO?"!!!!
TG: now thats fucked up
CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?
===
TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats
TG: wait
TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases
CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…
CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.
===
TG: damn
CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.
CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."
===
TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab
CG: THANK YOU.
===
CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.
CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.
CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.
CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.
CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.
===
TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population
TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways
CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.
TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point
===
TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention
TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display
TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor
TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone
CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?
TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what
TG: must be the size of
===
TG: jupiter
===
TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio
TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance
CG: PFFFT.
TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit
TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal
CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.
===
TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me
TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome
TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me
TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit
===
TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story
CG: I HEAR YOU.
TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad
TG: but
===
TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff
CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.
TG: gotcha and no
CG: OBVIOUSLY.
TG: but anyways dude look
===
TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes
TG: not a good way of looking at it
TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me
TG: like they are in a way but
TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you
CG: …
===
TG: so
TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit
TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow
CG: HUH.
===
TG: and i mean plus
===
TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so
TG: yknow
===
CG: WHAT?
TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it
CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.
CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.
TG: its besides the point anyways
===
TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things
CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.
CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.
CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.
===
TG: heh yeah
HAHAH.
===
CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?
TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already
CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?
TG: yes dude
CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.
TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot
CG: STRUT POD
TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion
TG: youre gonna regret doubting me
CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.
TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do
CG: GO ON THEN.
===
TG: …
TG: pass
CG: EXACTLY.
CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.
TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too
CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.
===
TG: but also
TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes
CG: Y--
TG: let me finish
TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also
TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important
TG: ok not "have" just
TG: how the fuck do i phrase that
TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down
TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do
TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it
CG: …
===
TG: karkat i meant it
CG: … THANKS.
TG: no problem
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sardonic-the-writer · 4 months
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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists
↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem
• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it
• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day
• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks
• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it
• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it
• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates
• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees
• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’
• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion
• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”
• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded
• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it
• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “
• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him
• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in
• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”
• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter
• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”
• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room
• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all
• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move
• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron
• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments
• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!
• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar
• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day
• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same
• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words
• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed
• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule
• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal
• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket
• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”
• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face
• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door
• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe
• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them
• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone
• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 
• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily
• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”
• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”
• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that
• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something
• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond
• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter
• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged
• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately
• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head
• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him
• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so
• An eye twitch
• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 
• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all
• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms
• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“
• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird
• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."
• "Agreed."
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kazumist · 8 months
Text
STUPID CUPID .ᐟ
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✩ — in which you thought cupid was stupid for making you fall for a guy like wriothesley.
✩ — wriothesley x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 753 (woah). reader is down bad for wrio LOL theyre so me fr. reblogs are very much appreciated !!
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you never found wriothesley attractive.
well, that was before, at least. now, you’re currently undergoing a love crisis because how and when did he even become so attractive in your eyes?
since when did wriothesley look so good in rolled up sleeves? (one of the rare times where you’re thankful that the uniform has long sleeves, really.) since when did wriothesley look good in fitted clothes? since when did his chuckle start replaying in your head at random times during the day? and archons, since when did you even start liking the way he says your name?
just when did wriothesley start to become your type?
a few months ago, you didn’t even spare him a glance when it wasn’t needed. yet now, here you are, most probably on the brink of losing your sanity just because of a guy who you’re 100% sure doesn’t even think of you the same way.
you don’t share that many conversations with him, but when you do, it feels like you are floating. maybe it was simply because of how good his voice sounds, or maybe it was because you’re actually talking to him—who knows?
the words that your friends had said before started to echo in your head, “you know, when you’re in love, you’ll feel like your dreaming every day.” you didn’t believe them at first, of course; it just sounded impossible for you. but the tables just had to turn on you, didn’t they?
“as i was saying, i think it’s best if we take another approach to doing this project—are you okay?”
oh shit. this just proves their point even more, you completely forgot you were in the middle of talking and planning about your project with wriothesley because you were thinking about him! 
“huh? oh yeah, don’t worry about it.”
he nods in acknowledgement and continued to voice out his thoughts and archons, you were so close to melting. no way in celestia that even you even find him attractive as he is explaining his ideas, right?
right?
-
who knew that a project could bring two people together?
you managed to find out all sorts of things about wriothesley. a few of those would be: he has a little sister named sigewinne and he lets her style his hair whenever he’s at home, he usually does morning walks during the weekends to watch the sunrise, he really likes drinking tea and doesn’t like talking too much because his throat becomes too dry for his liking, there’s also—
yep, you’re falling deeper than you initially thought.
-
stupid, stupid cupid!
cupid must’ve been stupid. there’s no other explanation for it. because why did you just have to fall for a guy like wriothesley? wriothesley, who’s way out of your league. who you’re positively sure doesn’t like you back (and has no plans on doing so). wriothesley, who wasn’t even your type yet, here you are, going crazy over him!
just why did you have to fall for wriothesley who's… currently walking towards you right now with a bouquet of tulips in hand?
“what’s with the tulips?” you asked him.
you didn’t have to be a genius to know what tulips symbolized—love and happiness is what they mostly meant.
“are you going to give them to sigewinne?” you followed up on your last question. “ah, they’re actually for you," he replies, keeping his eyes on the bouquet in his hands and refusing to look you in the eyes instead.
wait.
did he just say they were for you?
“huh? for me?”
he silently handed you the said bouquet and proceeded to put his hands in his pockets. there, you noticed a little note attached.
i love watching the sun rise, but i’ll love it more if i get to watch it with you.
“if you don’t feel the same, it’s completely fine with me. i just wanted to let you know that i hold romantic feelings for you and—" he started to ramble, which is very out of character of him since you’re well aware that he doesn’t like to talk too much.
you didn’t believe everything at first. wriothesley suddenly giving you a bouquet of tulips was already unbelievable enough for you, but to read this note that was obviously written by him? you’re probably just dreaming, right? yeah, that must be it. maybe you just fell asleep, and now you’re dreaming of this whole thing—
“i’d like to watch the sun rise with you as well.”
maybe cupid wasn’t stupid after all.
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tagging: @ryuryuryuyurboat, @oveloof, and @yinyinggie <3
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wynnyfryd · 7 months
Text
Trailer Park Steve AU part 3
part 1 | part 2
(tw: guns, accidental death)
Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”
“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”
“Steve!”
Steve starts to drive.
Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.
“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”
“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”
“You what???”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”
“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”
He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”
“Huh?”
“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”
“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”
Ah, there it is.
Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”
“—Don’t talk about—”
“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”
“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic.”
“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”
“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”
She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
Steve eases his foot onto the brake.
“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”
The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”
He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.
It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.
God.
Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.
Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”
“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”
“Love you, dingus.”
And then he’s alone again.
With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.
If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?
Not much.
Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.
He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.
It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.
Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.
Some fucking grand prize.
The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.
Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.
The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.
Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.
His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.
He didn’t walk away that night.
Didn’t even face death standing.
Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.
They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.
Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.
The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.
So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.
You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.
He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.
He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.
Kill yourself, dad.
Oh, wait.
You already did.
part 4
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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Go Big or Go Home | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Once your husband gets going, it's hard to reel him in again. Now that you've told everyone that you're pregnant, you realize he's always going to go a little over the top for you and the baby. But you let him get away with it, because nothing feels quite as important as the love he has for you.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst, pregnancy topics
Length: 2000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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You sat in a lounge chair on your back patio, sipping some Gatorade in your oversized sunglasses and watching your sweaty husband doing yard work. He started out an hour ago with a shirt on, but he discarded that in favor of showing off his glistening torso for your entertainment. At least that's what you told yourself. 
"Roo! Come take a break!"
Bradley turned and looked at you as he wiped his brow with his forearm. "Sweetheart. No breaks. I want to get as much done as I can around here now so you don't have to worry about it later."
You sighed. He was going to wear himself out with projects leading up to his deployment. You loved that he wanted to leave you without a dripping faucet in the kitchen and without weeds in the backyard, but sending him off away in a few days if he wasn't well rested was going to spell disaster.
"If I need something done while you're away, I'll call Jake or Cam."
Bradley scoffed but dropped the rake he was using and headed your way in his low slung jeans. "I can't let another man do my yard work. That absolutely goes against guy code." He started to lean down for a kiss, and he smelled so good, you moaned before he even touched you. "Hey now," he said with a smirk, pausing a few inches from your lips. "I have an idea."
"Tell me," you whined.
His smirk grew. "Something that might successfully lure me away from my projects?"
"Yes, we can fuck," you told him immediately, but instead of kissing your lips, he chuckled and dropped to his knees next to your lounger and ran his nose along your shirt. 
"Hold that thought, because we will be doing that later." He nudged the shirt fabric up until his lips met the bare skin of your belly, kissing his new favorite spot on your body. "Hey, little Nugget," he whispered, and your heart melted as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair. "Think Mommy will go for our scheme?"
You laughed. "You're scheming with the baby? Already?"
"Oh yeah," he told you with a serious nod. "Here's what we're gonna do."
"This should be good," you muttered as he kissed you one more time before pulling your shirt back down.
"How about instead of chores, we spend the rest of the day shopping for baby stuff?"
You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You were just barely into your second trimester, and it felt early to be buying too many things at this point, but the eager look on Bradley's face had you agreeing. "I'll let you pick out one thing."
His eyes lit up, and you should have known what was coming. "Let's make it five things."
"Bradley," you groaned, and he started kissing your lips in earnest until you giggled. "Fine! Three things! Final offer!"
"Sold."
-----------------------------
"I love this store," Bradley said as he held your hand and walked around the enormous baby depot.
"You've only been here one time!" you reminded him. "And we were shopping for a gift for someone else's baby."
He recalled that day perfectly. It was when you and he both admitted you wanted kids, and he hadn't stopped thinking about expanding his family with you since then. "I still love it," he said, pulling you toward the baby clothes. He desperately wanted to buy his child their first outfit, but he didn't know what would be suitable. Something told him he'd know what he wanted when he saw it.
The main issue he was having right now was your libido. He'd skipped a shower in favor of coming right here, and somehow you seemed even worse than usual. Even more wound up. "You smell so good," you whispered, pressing yourself against him as soon as he stopped to look around. Even as he throbbed for you, he told himself he needed to stay on task.
"Baby Girl, I will let you do anything you want to me," he swore, and your eyes glittered. "Later. After I pick out my three things for the Nugget."
"Well, hurry up," you whispered, running your fingers low on his abs while he looked at some onesies. "I'm horny."
He kissed the top of your head and guided you along. "I know you are. I won't leave you hanging." And he wouldn't. He'd be gone soon, sent away to some undisclosed location for some undisclosed amount of time where he'd have no access to you or the Nugget. He'd give you everything you wanted and needed right now, but this little shopping trip was something for him. He needed this. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that he might not return. 
"These are cute sunglasses," you mused, still running one hand along his body. "Little aviators."
Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt as you held up the tiniest pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy shit," he muttered when you handed them to him. "These are fucking adorable, Sweetheart. Good find. Our baby is going to look so damn cool."
"What did I tell you about swearing so much?" you said as you rubbed your face on his shirt. Bradley knew you were a ticking time bomb at the moment. He needed to make his selections and get you out before you started to whine for him.
"I'll fucking behave," he replied, making you laugh. And that was when he saw it. The perfect onesie. His child needed to have it. He made a beeline toward the shelf and snatched it up as you followed behind him.
"That's cute!" you said, running your fingers along the airplane and the clouds that spelled out Aim for the Sky. The clothing sizes went by months, which was very confusing to him. Surely the baby wouldn't be growing that fast? Needing new clothing every few weeks?
"Just to be sure," he muttered, grabbing the onesie in several sizes. "Okay, that's item number one of three."
"Technically that looks like four items to me, Bradley. Why are you getting so many onesies?"
"In case the Nugget grows at super speeds. I'm going to want to take a million photos of this outfit."
When he gave you his saddest eyes, you groaned and said, "Fine. Nugget's first outfit has been acquired. Pick two more items, and we can go home and get in bed."
With a grin, he started to lead you around the store. He wanted to get the baby a toy, but he wasn't sure which would be the best. Jake had been telling him about everything he wanted to buy for Jeremiah, and some of it sounded fun, but once again, he wanted the Nugget to have something unique. One of a kind. Only the best shit for his kid.
"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, thrusting the onesies and aviators into your hands and running to the end of the aisle. "That's it!" He was hitting the enormous box with his palm over and over again. "Look at this! It's perfect!"
"Roo, it's five hundred bucks, and the baby won't even be able to use it for a few years," you warned, but it was too late. He was already sliding the box from the shelf and carrying it to the front of the store. "Bradley!"
"It's one of my three items! Now help guide me. This thing is massive."
With great joy, he paid for the orange Bronco Power Wheels and carried the box out to his full sized blue Bronco and fit it in the back while you held the bag containing the onesies and sunglasses. "I am so afraid to ask what your third item is going to be," you said as he struggled to make the box fit. But he had an idea. He'd had an idea for ages. It was part of the reason he had been trying to clean up the backyard a little bit more and even out the soil next to the shed.
When he closed the tailgate, he kissed your forehead gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly as he buckled you in the passenger seat and leaned down to kiss your belly. "The Nugget and I know exactly what to get."
You rolled your eyes and then asked what he was scheming up now. You asked the entire way home what he was going to buy, and he was only able to finally distract you once he had his clothes off in the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, Baby Girl. Worry about the fact that you won't be able to walk straight in half an hour."
----------------------------
Bradley never told you what else he was going to buy, but later that night, you had the suspicion that it had already been purchased. You spent the evening with him out in the garage, sitting on his bench press and eating a bag of pretzels while he put the Power Wheels together on a tarp on the floor. 
"Can't leave the baby out," he muttered as he screwed the doors on. "Now we all have our own Bronco."
He looked adorable, his hair messy from how you'd had your fingers tangled in it, and the eager look on his face was something you'd desperately miss when he was gone. "The box says ages three to seven," you reminded him before you bit into a pretzel, but he just grunted in response. "And what if the Nugget doesn't like Broncos?" you asked just to tease him, earning a glare in response.
"The baby will have impeccable taste," he muttered, turning the page in the instruction booklet. "Broncos and hot sauce and airplanes."
You waited a few seconds until he looked very distracted, and then you softly asked, "What's the third thing you bought?"
He hummed as he located the set of screws he would need for the hood. "You'll see soon enough. It's being delivered tomorrow."
Tomorrow was Monday. He was leaving on Wednesday. "It's not something big that will need to be assembled like the Power Wheels, right?" He had the guiltiest expression on his face as he turned to look up at you. "Right?" you repeated. "Bradley!"
You got your answer the following morning when you were squeezing into your new uniform pants which were a size larger than your old ones. You were dreading the thought of having to start wearing a maternity uniform to work and went with new pants to buy yourself some time. You froze with your zipper halfway pulled up and called out to Bradley in the kitchen. "What's that sound?"
"Uh... it's the third thing for the Nugget being delivered," he replied, and you immediately headed for your front door and the repetitive beeping sound coming from outside. "Don't freak out," he said as he came up behind you as you wrenched the front door open. 
Bradley had already seemingly moved both Broncos to the street in anticipation of the forklift that was moving wooden pallets wrapped up in plastic onto the driveway. "Do I even want to know?" you whispered as the forklift backed up to scoop another pallet off of the truck that was parked in the middle of your street. 
He wrapped his arms around you from behind and let his hands rest on your bloated belly while he nuzzled your ear. "It's a thirty-seven piece jungle gym playset for the backyard."
"A thirty-seven piece...."
"The Nugget and I both really wanted it."
You pinched the bridge of your nose as your dog plopped down next to your feet, and the three of you watched the forklift make several more trips up the driveway. "Don't you dare try to buy anything else right now. Do you understand me?"
---------------------------
Nothing says 'Bradley's child' quite like baby's first Bronco. And he's so precious, he's already built the thing. He's been daydreaming about the playset for long enough that it was bound to happen, too. Let's send him on this deployment and get him back home to his wifey and his Nugget. Stay tuned for more! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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almalvo · 10 months
Text
About An Official Spiderverse Artist...
Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.
If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.
But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:
I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.
So here I am.
And I got something to say about a certain "artist".
There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.
Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).
There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.
If you have seen this:
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Then you have seen this artist before.
His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.
He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.
Yes. Former.
Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.
You may have also seen this character before:
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Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".
Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.
I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.
BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:
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Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).
13. year. old. child.
This man only sees east asian women this way.
He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--
and young.
Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:
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Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.
Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.
And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -
His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.
His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.
They look as creepy as they are.
But the scariest part?
While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.
And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.
And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.
So yeah.
I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.
My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.
Keep away.
Do not support this man.
But the decision is ultimately yours.
Stay awake, yall.
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(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):
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scary.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 3 months
Note
Alastor watching the princess and the frog by Disney ? It’s in lousiana in the 1920s so it would be perfect for him
absolutelyyyyyyy the princess and the frog is one of my fav disney movies from characters to soundtrack, so this one’s a bit longer. also kind of a part two but also not exactly
history ramble below
also i did some light research on new orleans history because if im gonna write alastor i should know. doggy i love me some history and this history is rich, depressing at times but also rich and meanful to know so i thought id share a little. from talking about the free the peoples movement, to the way women got their rights to their hair back that they didn’t have when enslaved only to have a law banning natural hair and hair wraps and so they decorated the wraps and used coloured fabrics effectively rendering the law useless, to the wealthiest black man of the 1870s for being a prospering business owner, the origins of how voodoo and other spiritual practices mingled perfectly with the pre established voodoo and how voodoo was predominantly black women who were highly respected, the first black man to be govoner in the united states in only 1871, a black woman named Rose Nicaud who opened the first coffee stand in 1800 and made enough to escape being ensalved. then there’s lighter topics like some of the jazz history and how it made various black stars like louie armstrong, and also how the language mingled to make the cajun french that’s sadly dying out, to the architecture that flourished through the varying clashes in culture between african, european, native and haitian peoples. if it’s not too upsetting to read i definitely suggest this page to have an insight on some of the quick history on new orleans, i enjoyed learning about the strength that many had during this time.
United teachers of new orleans < page i was reading
Warnings: jealous Al teehee, reader crushes on naveen and dr facilier (don’t mind me just projecting), cuddling, swearing, alastor doesn’t really know emotions good, fluffy banter, just some ushy gushy mushy tushy
Word count: 2k
The movie Bambi didn't even finish playing before the patrons started to filter out of the room heading to bed. First to go was Vaggie carrying a sleeping Charlie, Sir pentious promptly following along telling his fussy egg boys it was long past their bed time. Then it was Niftys turn to disappear, however she never said a goodnight only sped off leaving behind her vacant swishing rocking chair.
Then once Angel and Husk left, you had decided to just call it quits on Bambi, Alastor hadn't moved much or objected to you turning off the movie, only watching the projector as you scrolled through the app.
You stopped on the princess and the frog, grinning toward Alastor he sighed, getting a glimpse of your mischief from the corner of his eye. "Now what's this about darling?" Turning your body towards his fully facing him, you waited for his gaze to finally meet yours, and reluctantly it did. "Allow me to introduce you to one of, if not, thee best disney movies of all time; the princess and the frog," Alastor's finger rose as he took a breath to speak, but before he could say a word you interrupted him.
"Yes I know princess yuck, whatever Al. It takes place in New Orleans, its main focus is actually in the poorer area with the shotgun houses, and throughout the movie Tiana, the princess, travels through the bayou, oh! With Naveen one of the hottest princes, also it takes place in the twenties, oh!-" Before you could continue Alastor gently gripped your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily as he did so."What did you just?"
"Takes place in the nineteen twenties?" You asked, voice muffled from Alastors grip on your cheeks. "Before that dear." Your eyebrows raised looking at Alastor not trying to hide your confusion. "Naveen? One of the hottest princes?" Alastor hummed, booping your nose. "Yes dear, that."
"Yeah. duh dude he's one of the few princes that deserve the princess, he changes for Tiana, he's charismatic, funny, but nevermind that back to what i was saying. There's varying New Orleans culture littered through that might make you feel closer to home, all the music is jazz obviously." Opening your mouth readying to rant on about the Voodoo man that you adored, Alastor hushed you with his finger up to your lips.
"My sweet dear, I will watch this silly picture show so long as you stop rambling about it." Alastor wasn't truly done with hearing your rambling, he was enjoying hearing that you were such a fan of something that centred so close to home when it came to him however if he was going to watch it he rather not have it spoiled.
Giddily you clasped your hands together and hit play, your love for the film and excitement to see Alastors reaction may have made you slightly over enthusiastic just a bit. As the movie began you curled your feet up onto the couch, inching yourself closer to Alastor looking up to his face and back to the movie.
When Naveen got introduced on screen you accidentally gripped Alastors arm tightly shaking him. "My mannn~" You squealed happily, letting go of Alastor once you heard the unmistakable rattle come from him, a growl sounding out of his chest. You didn't pay much attention to him though, instead turning back to the projector and backing off Al. However Alastor wasn't too frustrated with the fact you touched him, but because you were being so ushy gushy over some fake man.
He was easily the same if not better than Naveen. Alastor was charismatic, charming, he could sing, play instruments, he didn't quite understand why you were so particularly interested in this Naveen. Hell, even Alastor had a similar outfit back when he was alive, he could've been Naveen when he was alive.
You didn’t notice Alastor having a mini tantrum in his own world, you were too engrossed in the movie. Suddenly you’ve gripped him again, pointing at the screen. "The shadow man, Al this is your kin!" You egged laughing maniacally at your own words.
Alastor’s face however brightened at the display of the voodoo man. "One of my fav songs." You whispered as Dr. Facilier began singing on screen. Cocking his head to the side Alastor looked down to you bouncing along to the song. "This fellow sounds similar to Husk." Alastor mentioned, watching intently at the shadows that crawled around Dr. Faciliers room, much like Alastors own shadows. "Yeah it really does sound like Husk. Strange, anyways, Dr. Voodoos hot too." Alastors static buzzed around the room and you had to hold back a giggle at the frustrated look on his face, despite the smile it was obvious he wasn't too happy.
"What's up Al, not liking the movie?" Static crackled around the two of you as you questioned him a little slyly as you could tell he wasn’t hating the movie. “No dear, it’s pleasant in comparison to some things i’ve grit myself through, however,” He paused watching you ogle at both the Dr and Naveen. “I can’t understand what’s so great about this Naveen you like. He’s a fool,” You scoffed at Alastors distaste for Naveen, you didn’t mean to make him feel frustrated at your adoration for the characters but it was endearing to see.
“What’s not to like about the man?” You state confidently but Alastor simply shrugged while humming indifferently. A beat of silence passed, the ending of the song playing out of the projector. “It’s just that,” Alastor started up again after a moment of silence, turning his body to face you hands folded in his lap politely. “You clearly have the odd reaction towards these gentlemen and I can't see why,” To give him credit he did look genuinely confused, and just as you were going to speak up he interrupted.
“And please do not say it’s because he is funny, charismatic, musically talented or sweet because I happen to hold all those same qualities!” He finished, hands thrown in the air like he said something especially spectacular. You had a soft smile present on your face watching him work through the sentence theatrically. “Well, Al you are, maybe i think the same about you?” Record scratch.
You cackled at his frozen state, patting his arm gently, cooing that you were only kidding, you turned back to the TV and the two of you decided to leave it at that.
Later on in the movie, when Tiana and Naveen are with the alligator going down the bayou singing about being human, you stared over at Alastor, your heart thumping at the sight of him. His arms were resting along the back of the couch, legs splayed out comfortably, posture sunken in, and his eyes lidded with a closed calm smile. His ear twitched and soon his eyes moved from the movie to you, quirking a questionable eyebrow at you.
Feeling slightly embarrassed for eyeing him up you tried to play it off by asking him a question. “Is there bayous in New Orleans, is that real?” You ask kinda dumbly, of course they were, you scolded yourself. Alastor didn’t seem to mind though he smiled widely, a chuckle reverberating out of him. “Why yes dear! Of course, I personally never lived close to the bayou, but it surrounds New Orleans, and I have been. It’s quite beautiful during a sunset but there’s tons of alligators.”
You leaned forward interested, but it seemed he’d stopped to refocus on the screen which you wouldn’t complain about. You not so discreetly leaned into his torso, arm still on the back of the sofa behind you, and thankfully he didn’t move when you leaned your body into him, instantly decompressing into his side.
They got to the scene where the gang is on the boat going through the bayou, the crocodile fitting in and playing jazz, when you turned to look up at Alastor seeing him already looking down at you. “What’s up?” You asked, watching as he scanned your face. “Well dear you’re just reminding me of home tonight, it would’ve been interesting to be able to show you where I lived, where I worked. Y’know when i did radio, most people didn’t know what I looked like so it came as quite a shock to some that I wasn’t what they imagined. Some were cruel, but my mother always taught me to be respectable if not respectful, so I managed to keep my grace.”
You giggle at his explanation watching him move his hand in all different directions, the radio host coming into play just at the mention of his job. “I’m flattered you would’ve wanted to show me your home n stuff, i wish it were possible.”
On the projector in front of you two, was the scene between Naveen and Tiana’s first date, where Naveen was going to propose. “They always get married so fast in these movies, you spend three days as a frog and suddenly it’s eternity!” You exclaimed humorously, Alastor scoffed an array of instrumental sounds electronically sounding out from him. “My dear it was common back in the day to get married quick, none of this lollygagging.”
You rolled your eyes blowing out air. “Would you get married to someone you knew for three days?” Alastor hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in exaggerated thought. “If it were you, perhaps, otherwise i’d attempt to lengthen it just a bit.” He reviled in the sight of you bashfully turning your head away, shy at his broad flirt. “You’d marry me, after only three days?” You questioned in disbelief, he hummed wrapping the arm he once had behind you, around you pulling you into him.
“Well I found you to be quite a treat the first day i met you, and decided i wanted to be around you for many days on. Is that not marriage worthy?” This confession shocked you slightly. You never expected him to say that he preemptively planned your blooming friendship nevermind that he equated that to being worth marriage. The movie played on in the background as you both watched each other’s faces.
“To me, dear,” Alastor started a smug smile stretching across his cheeks replacing the calm smile that stayed for so long. “It seems like you may unconsciously feel something towards me too.” Jaw dropping you stared at him confused. “What?” You scoff but Alastor only looked smugger.
“Come now, New Orleans centred movie? Jazz, cooking, even that dumbo man Naveen speaks french loves jazz music and dancing, oh and of course the ever so obvious voodoo, it’s almost like this movie is me, haha.” He laughed manically, eyes crossing as his body shook. It was quite the egotistical assumption on his part, but he wasn’t wrong.
You put it on for him but it seems for you too, you paid more attention to him half the movie, and you’ve been more interested in knowing real life facts about his home during his time then what story the movie was trying to tell. Maybe he was right, but even so what did him pointing it out accomplish? “Well that’s why i wanted to show you it, it’s got many aspects you’re involved with in it.”
You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for such a good save, however Alastor was keen and knew you long enough to catch your lies. “Sure dear, sure.” Al gave you a condescending pat on the head and you speedily swatted at him. The movie played on you once more captivated by Alastor’s reactions more than the movie itself, you’ve already watched it enough to know.
Tucked under Alastor’s arm, warm and comfy, you barely caught the sound of Alastor huffing out chuckles, gazing up towards the projection you playfully hit him. “Don’t laugh at his death!” That only made Alastor properly laugh, dropping his head back, neck cracking grossly. “My dear it was a lightning bug in love with a star! He got stepped on that was hilarious!”
Sounds of prerecorded laughter sounded out with his natural laugh, you didn’t actually care that he found it funny, only pretended too as you gave him a disapproving glare. As the movie closed in you felt a weird gloom wash over you, it was nice being alone with him by his side while you two relaxed. You didn’t want it ending, but alas Tiana and Naveen kissed turning them human, with the reveal that with marrying Naveen, she became a princess effectively breaking the curse, and the movie started with the end song.
“Well dear I did enjoy that, the voodoo was pretty boringly unrealistic, but it’s for children. I did enjoy the mentioning of foods, very common dishes even I enjoy, like gumbo. But alas it was still a pathetic little movie about mortal love.” Standing to his feet when he finished speaking, Alastor dusted himself off and snapped his fingers making all around you revert to what it was before movie night.
“Do you not want to be in love?” You ask softly partly hoping he didn’t hear you as by the time you stood from your spot, you regret saying it. “Well I certainly haven’t looked. Why disappointed?” Alastor bent himself backwards to look at you since you stood behind him readying to exit. Looking down into his eyes you felt hazy, maybe a little drunk on desire as you gently caressed his cheek. “Maybe I am,”
“Darling.” Alastor said sternly as he cracked himself upward, he bent down facing you this time and before he could talk you once again interrupted. “Can’t blame me can you?” Alastor seemed momentarily taken aback, gazing around lazily trying to collect his thoughts. “My dear, I'm uncertain with emotions like this as well as expressing them, love is foolish, however… if you were to tell me ‘i love you’ i would say it back.”
It confused you, what Alastor said, you couldn’t tell if he was mocking you and telling you he was going to lie about his emotions to spare you, or if he was egging you on attempting to get you to tell him your true feelings. Regardless you swallowed down any worries for the future instead focusing only on the now, and looked deeply into the soft red glow of his eyes.
“I love you Al,” With a cheeky smile you watched him stutter, the visible shock was clear, and you wondered if he actually expected you to say that. Just as you began to worry you fucked up, he bent down to your height. “I love you too my dear,” And with that he gave you the chastised kiss on the lips, before standing to his full height materialising his microphone. “Got to go dear! Duty calls!” And with that he seemingly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you to waddle tiredly to your room. Little did you know that Alastor whisked himself away to have a minor panic attack in the safety of his radio tower, not believing himself and his broad actions, nor could he believe the pounding in his chest and flutter in his heart.
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chrisgirly4l · 4 months
Text
Fantasies
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dom C.S x sub reader
summary- Chris finds out about your sexual fantasies with him in your journal.
Word count- 1033
a/n- This is my first fanfic I've ever written so I'm sorry if it isn't good I tried lol.
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"y/n, for this project you will be partners with Christopher" your English teacher says with a smirk on her face, almost like she did this on purpose. Putting the quiet girl with the most popular guy in school.
Chris looks at you from across the classroom as his friends laugh and make fun of him for getting a "bad" partner.
After everyone gets assigned their person he walks over to you, pushing the nearest empty desk beside yours. You look down at your lap and fidget with your hands trying to avoid eye contact.
"hey, so I guess we're partners..." Chris says awkwardly. "yeah, I guess we are." you mutter quietly. The silence between you two lingers uncomfortably, though the rest of the class is conversing at full volume.
Chris finally decides to break the silence by saying "do you know what we're supposed to do, I wasn't really listening." You roll your eyes and reply sarcastically "clearly. All we have to do is make a slideshow about the book we read, you did read the book right?" He looks at you with a lopsided smile and sheepishly says "I was kinda hoping you did.." After exchanging numbers and summarizing the book for him class was over, finally.
If you didn't think so before it was now confirmed that this was going to be a shit show. A total complete shit show.
Later that night as you laid down to go to sleep, you couldn't help but think about Chris. The way he ran his fingers through his hair, his kind, genuine voice, and his blue eyes that almost seem to twinkle when he smiles. You start to overthink the situation, Do I have a crush on him? Does he have a crush on me? No, it isn't possible there's no way i'm falling for a guy I've only talked to once!
Since your thoughts were barring you from sleep, you decided to do what always helps you relax, journaling. Though it may seem like a stupid hobby, you've done it for as long as you can remember. It's never failed you and you know it won't fail you now.
You lay stomach down, pen in hand on your bed and begin to write, after what feels like a short period of time you check your phone and you've been writing for close to an hour! When you go to read back the many pages, you realize what was supposed to help convince you why having a crush on king of the cafeteria was not a good idea, was really just you spilling all of your most sexual fantasies you've imagined with him.
Walking into English the next day you pull out the same journal to write down all your homework you have to do tonight. Chris takes a seat next you, your shoulders brushing slightly, but the touch enough to make your heart skip a beat. While your distracted your journal falls off your desk, on the floor directly beside him, the pages flipping one back onto your entry from last night! You quickly reach to pick it up, but he already has is and has started scanning the page. "woah! who's this about, I guess your not so innocent after all." he says with a smirk clearly trying to tease you. "shut up Chris, just give it back!" but it's too late by the time you get your sentence out, he read his name at the bottom.
You stare at him anxiously waiting for his reaction, but instead he puts the notebook down and walks out of the classroom silently. You cover your face with your hands, utterly embarrassed when your phone dings, It's from Chris "Bathroom, now" You gawk at the screen, not even able to believe what your reading. Nevertheless you get up and walk to the bathroom.
Hesitantly, you push open the restroom door, and scan the room. You don't see him or anyone else, for that matter. You walk down the line of stalls till you're swiftly pulled into the handicap one at the end of the line. Without delay he immediately holds you against the wall, his knee in between your legs and his lips planted on yours.
You pause before relaxing into the kiss, your body pressed against his and your hands sliding into his hair. He slips his tongue into your mouth gently, gaining intensity gradually. Your body heats up as the realization hits you that your making out with the Christopher Sturniolo, one of the most sought after guys at school!
While deep in thought Chris whispers in a gravelly tone "Wanna make those fantasies come true?" Your face turns bright red as you slowly nod before his lips come down to your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin, leaving dark bruises, and causing you to whimper faintly. Steadily, he slides his hand under the waistband of your pants, leisurely rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb. You look into his eyes, your moans pleading for more. He quickens his motions and palms your ass, your whines only getting louder.
Suddenly, echos of the bathroom door swinging open spread across the whole room, startling both you and Chris, but instead of stopping the lustful act, he covers your mouth and slams two slender fingers into you. You gasp under his hand with suprise and pleasure, as he begins to finger you at a moderate pace. "You're such a slut, letting me finger you at school, now shut up and take it like I know you can." He whispers seductively, his lips moving back to yours, the kiss needier than the first, his hands accelerating pace inside you. Your muscles tighten around his fingers "I'm gonna-" You cut yourself off with your orgasm, pressing your face into his shoulder while squirming under his touch.
The bathroom door slams shut, as Chris pulls out and chuckles "You did so good for me baby." You blush at the praise and nickname. "...thank you?" You instantly feel embarrassed at your reply, but the feeling quickly subsides when Chris smiles at you and leads you out of the bathroom at the bell.
"Same time tomorrow?"
547 notes · View notes
nicestgirlonline · 7 months
Text
Let Me Hear You Scream
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! language, threatening situations, DUB CON, horror elements
Word count: 3.8k
Summary: It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies
a/n: Happy Halloween yall!!!! Still working on other projects but really wanted to get something out for Halloween! This was for @witchywithwhiskey’s Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! the prompts I picked were Scream and “I’m your boyfriend now” Hope you all enjoy!!!! Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3
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1993. A sleepy suburban town, where nothing exciting ever happens. Friday night.
Your friends were all going out to Wanda’s party, but you were stuck housesitting for your aunt. Your mom had promised you would house sit weeks ago, so you couldn’t get off the hook. It was a big empty house, more rooms than your aunt could ever need. Most were filled up with storage and dust bunnies.
You tried to make the best of the boring night-in. You rented some Meg Ryan movies with plans to completely veg out. You ordered an extra large pizza with all of your favorite toppings and raided your aunts pantry for snacks.
You glanced down at your shirt and saw red. Pizza sauce! Blooming red circle right in the center of your cream sweater. You let out a huff of frustration. Some Friday night.
You changed into comfy nightwear--a baby blue cotton gown that brushed the very top of your knees, along with a pair of fluffy bunny slippers for good measure. You settled back down in front of the TV.
RING. RING. RING.
You picked up the phone, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder as you carried your snacks over to the kitchen.
“Hello,” you used your best fake customer service voice. Your aunt had asked you to take down any messages. She must have a new boyfriend she was hoping would call. You wait for a response but all you can hear is low breaths through the receiver. “Hello?” You try again
“Is this Sidney?” The voice was weirdly distorted and hard to place. It was deep, clearly a man’s voice.
“Sorry, wrong number dude.” You hung up before he could let another word out. You set the phone down by the cradle and go back to making your snacks. You got out the big popcorn bowl.
The phone rang out again. “Hello?” You answered. You really hadn’t expected to be fielding this many phone calls.
“Hey. Did I call you earlier?” It was the same strange voice. You blew some air through your lips, how annoying.
“Sidney’s not here. Have a good night--”
“Aw man. She must have given me a fake number. I don’t mean to bother you over and over tonight.” He sighed, sounding very apologetic.
“No worries. Have a good night.”
“Wait, wait. I like the sound of your voice.”
You paused. Was it totally weird to just chat with this guy? Yeah. But what harm could it be? You felt a bit of a flutter in your stomach. You never had talked to a stranger over the phone like this. It felt clandestine! You decided to go with it.
“Better than Sidney’s?” You asked, trying to make your voice sound as flirty as possible. You heard him hum approval.
“Much better than…let’s not talk about her. What are you doing tonight?” There was something very familiar about his voice. There was a crackle and static that made it so you couldn’t quite make it out. It must be a shitty connection.
“I was having a movie night. I’m making some snacks right now.” You started to curl the phone cord around your finger.
“What are you watching, Pumpkin? Something scary?”
“No way. I hate scary movies.”
“Especially not when you’re alone right?”
“Uh - um - I’m not alone. Actually.” You lied. How did he know you were alone? Was he just guessing?
“Scary movies are always scarier when you’re all alone, in a big empty house, that’s in the middle of nowhere,” he continued.
A shiver went down your spine. That was a bit too accurate. But there's no way he could possibly know where you were. It was a phone call!
“I just don’t like them. It's either some creepy slasher stabbing some big boobed blonde through her white t-shirt or a ghost that's a metaphor for trauma. No thank you,” you sighed.
“I think you’re being a little hard on them. Maybe if you watched them with a guy to cling to you’d like them more. Do you have a boyfriend?”
There it was. Obviously the alone comment was him trying to set the mood.
“Why do you want to know? Already over Sidney?” You teased him.
“Answer the question.” He was very serious. You didn’t like the tone he had.
“Yes, I do. Are you going to hang up?” You lied again, trying to call his bluff.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. What are you wearing? Something cute and virginal? What about your underwear?” You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock. You were officially too skeeved out. This wasn’t some poor guy who got slipped a fake number. He was a weirdo!
“Ok perv, I’m over this. Bye.”
“I wouldn’t hang up Y/N.” His voice was suddenly hostile. He spat each syllable out filled with hatred. Your blood ran cold. Your heart started to race. How would he possibly know your name?
“Is this a prank? Not very funny. Is this you Tony?” Your voice shook with fear.
“Who’s Tony? That your boyfriend?” He snarled.
“This is a really bad joke. Did someone put you up to this? Scott? Knock it off now!”
“Jesus you’ve got a lot of men in your life. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I don’t like sharing.”
“I’m serious, this is a bad joke, so just give it up already.” You cried out, you looked around, making sure you were still totally alone.
“I don’t give up so easily. Do you, Pumpkin? Do you give it up to any guy who looks in your direction? I bet you do, you slut. That's why you're talking to a guy you don’t know while you’re all alone.”
“I’m hanging up, I already told you I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here! He’s big and he plays football. S-so don’t call back ok?” You tried to sound as forceful as possible but your lips wobbled and you tripped over your words.
“Pumpkin, you’re lying to me. You’re all alone in that big house in the middle of nowhere, wearing that skanky nightgown. I can see your nipples poking through this whole time. You’re so turned on by a psycho on the phone, huh?”
You let out a scream. You slammed the phone down, hanging it up. You started to spin a circle looking at all the windows, trying to see if you could see somebody watching you. You ran to the front door to make sure they were locked. You went window by window locking them and shutting the curtains. You took a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the door, jamming it beneath the door knob.
RING RING RING RING
You looked around, trying to remember where all of the doors were in the house. You spun around running to the kitchen entrance. You double checked the lock and put the chain on the door. You slid down the door with your back pressing against it trying to catch your breath.
This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked up prank. The guys were all too hyped up for Halloween and wanted to get a scare out of you. The ringing stopped and you heard the voicemail click, your aunt's outgoing message began to play.
“You screening your calls, skank? You’re gonna die, you little whore! I’m gonna see what your insides look like --” You picked up the phone just to end the message and slammed it back down. As you scampered away it fell down, swinging from the cord. You take off up the stairs, stumbling up the stairs.
You dash into the guest room you had been staying in. You quickly locked the door. Your hands were shaking still. How was this happening?
The window started to jiggle. You could hear the groaning old wood start to slide. With nothing better to arm yourself with you grabbed a pillow and started to wildly smack the intruder with all you could.
“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s me -- it’s me!” Bucky Barnes, your classmate, was gripping the window sill, flabbergasted from the pillow. You hadn’t even had time to register who it was before you attacked.
“Bucky? What the fuck are you doing here?” You demanded. This proved to you it had to be some kind of a prank. Why else would Bucky Barnes, the moody guy from your film class be climbing up to your room.
“Well, when you said you were busy tonight I thought I could just surprise you? Like a grand romantic gesture or something? Can you um, let me in? It's actually kind of cold.” He was shivering out there. He looked so earnest it tugged on your heart just a bit.
You motioned for him to come in. He heaved his body up, awkwardly crawling through the tight window then falling to the ground. He sprang back up quickly, smiling at you.
“Is this a prank? Are you in on this with the other guys or something?” You crossed your arms.
“Um, other guys? Are there other guys here? I thought I was being original.” He peered around you as if to look for them. You rolled your eyes.
“The phone calls Bucky. I’m not joking around.”
“What phone calls? I’ve been driving all night to get here from campus, then shimmying up some ivy. Haven’t exactly had any time to stop at a payphone. You know what. This was a bad idea, I can see that, I’ll just leave.” He sheepishly put his hands in his pockets as he crouched down to leave the way he came.
“No, no wait!” You grabbed him, keeping him from going outside. If it wasn’t Bucky then there was still a psycho out there! “I don’t know what's going on, but this weird guy kept calling me, and he was watching me! Like I think he was outside the house or something.”
“Calm down, calm down. I was just outside. There's nobody out there. It was probably just a prank call.”
He started to rub your back with slow soothing circles. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to from Bucky. He was the quiet one, never really hung out unless Steve was around. His palm pressed into your lower back, holding you closer to him. His other hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck.
“You’re getting so worked up. Maybe you should just lie down.” He shushed you as you tried desperately to explain it wasn’t a prank call. He guided the two of you down to the bed. He laid down next to you.
“Bucky…why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you, I thought you knew…isn’t it obvious how I feel about you?”
Your head was spinning. Bucky liked you? He barely even talked to you! When he casually asked if you were going to Wanda’s party you assumed it was just small talk. He had grunted and left the second you told him you were busy.
“I think I should call the cops about this--”
“I’m here aren’t I? I’ll keep you safe.” His lips connected with yours silencing you from responding. His kiss was eager, but still so gentle. He slowly moved his lips against yours, basking in the taste of you. He took his time and slowly you could feel his tongue ghosts against your bottom lip, looking for entrance.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, the shock, or maybe Bucky was just an extremely good kisser, but you quickly fell under the spell of the kiss. You let yourself get lost kissing him, trying to forget the phone call prankster that had been terrorizing you.
Fear was still racking through your body, but Bucky felt safe. You tangled your hands in his hair bringing him closer. His hand slowly traced up and down your leg. Both his hands grasped your legs, essentially pinning you down. You felt a cool air waft over your thighs as his fingers gently crept beneath your nightgown.
He cupped you over your underwear, grabbing the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin. You finally broke free of the kiss to gasp. He sat back on his ankles, his hand still toying with your panties.
“Bucky, I--”
“Shhh it's ok. I’m here to save the day. No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.” He pushed aside your panties and started to slowly circle your clit. You whined as he circles you again and again, the pleasure rushing through you and pushing every thought of terror out of your brain.
He pressed his thumb against your clit and dipped his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging more moans out of you. As he fucked you with his fingers, you tilted your hips up for more delicious friction.
“That's it my brave girl, Bucky’s here for you,” he murmured above you. He spoke with such hard conviction. His eyes were intensely boring into yours, nearly unblinking. He was no longer softly in the throws of passion. He was a man on a mission.
He kept pumping his fingers, he brought his other hand up from your leg to palm himself through his jeans. He groaned as he adjusted himself and went back to work on you. His other hand circling around your inner thigh, moving your leg up to his shoulder.
“Bucky, please, please,” you babbled as the pleasure began to mount and mount. It was nearly unbearable as you chased your release, grinding your hips up and down on his hand, riding his fingers towards that sweet relief.
“Yes, you’re doing so well, you’re perfect.” He brought his lips to your neck and began to suck at your sensitive spot. You let out a cry of pleasure as your climax flowed over you. You clamped your legs together, biting down on your lip as another cry came out.
You took a moment to catch your breath, Bucky was still nibbling on your neck. You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours. He eagerly responded, his lips enveloping yours.
You grabbed the underwear that you were still wearing and rolled it down your body to fling them off. You sat up and grabbed at Bucky until you found his belt. You fumbled, trying to unbuckle it. Bucky's hands quickly found yours and he brought them together, kissing both your palms. He unbuckled the belt on his own. Removing it without ceremony or flourish. He then yanked his jeans and underwear down.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked.
“I want you so badly, Bucky,” you moaned.
He let out a strangled gasp that turned to laughter. You tilted your head at the reaction. He didn’t sound exactly happy, it was more sinister.
“I just have waited so long to hear you say that to me. I’m so happy right now,” he nearly giggled. He giddily took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground.
“Keep me distracted Bucky, ok?” You asked as you hitch your nightgown up to your waist.
“Oh yes, anything for you, Pumpkin.” He had a devilish smirk on his face as he pressed his lips to your navel, slowly kissing his way up. He grabbed your nightgown and finished taking it off. Tossed it to the side with the pile of his clothes.
He made his way up your abdomen before groping your chest with a satisfied hiss. He squeezed you roughly, making you squeak. He latched his lips onto your breast. You let out a gasp as he lightly bit down. He tended thoroughly to each breast, his wicked tongue teasing at your pebbled nipples until you were a moaning puddle.
He grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your folds. He brushed the head of his cock up and down your cunt, teasing it out. He pressed his forehead against yours.
“You really mean it, right? You want me?” he asked desperately.
“Yes --” Before another word could escape your lips, he entered you. His whole body shivered. He thrust the tip of his head in, easing in and out until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned as the stretch burned in pleasure and pain.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he moaned, the pace he had set was blistering. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as he hammered into you. “You’re so tight, so tight fuuuck me.”
He thrust over and over, using the heel of his hand to keep working at your clit. You scratched your hands down his back as his pumps kept hitting the perfect spot. It was torturous pleasure as he kept working up and down your clit, not giving you a moment of respite.
You came again, your body seizing up as you cried out and then falling limp, boneless back down to the bed. Bucky grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body off the bed as he raced for his own release. The slapping sounds of your bodies filled the room along with his deep, gutural breaths.
“Yes, yes, you’re mine, you’re mine, I finally have you, finally, finally…” he babbled as he slowed his pace as he fucked out his climax.
XXX
You curled next to Bucky in the big fluffy guest bed. Both of you were happily satisfied. All thoughts of strangers on the phone were gone from your head. Now it was filled with what just happened.
Hooking up with Bucky? You’d never considered it before. You weren’t sure why, he was so very cute, you thought as you gazed at his face. His eyes were dreamily staring back at you, that big smile had not left his face yet.
“So if you want to like, hang out, I have snacks and movies. We can go curl up on the couch and just completely let our brains rot.” You traced tiny circles on his chest, feeling pretty confident he’d want to stick around.
“I’d be down for a little romcom night, as long as you’re there.” He affectionately tapped your nose.
“Good because that's all I’ve got!”
The two of you got back into a semblance of your outfits, you pulled your nightgown back on, and Bucky pulled on his boxers and the white undershirt he was wearing. You snagged his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He hummed his approval and kissed you on the cheek.
You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along down the stairs.
“You can go grab the popcorn, I’ll put the tapes in.” You directed Bucky towards the kitchen as you made your way towards the living room.
You pass the chairs jammed in front of the doors, and you remember your panic.
You shuddered--what a mean prank to pull. What kind of psycho talks to people like that?
You slipped your arms into Bucky's jacket to wrap yourself in it. It smelled sharp and sweet from his body wash and cologne blending together. You stuck your hands in the pockets, only to feel something heavy and tube shaped. You pulled it out, curious, turning it over in your hands a few times to investigate.
It was a long cylindrical looking microphone. You assumed it was some sort of film equipment, but why would Bucky bring that along?
“Hello?” You spoke into the mic. But instead of your own voice, the same distorted, crackling voice from the phone came out.
You dropped it. It was like a hot iron in your hand.
You realized Bucky must have heard you too. Your head snapped towards the kitchen. He was walking slowly towards you, a huge chef’s knife from the kitchen was now in his hands.
“Bucky what the hell is this?” You asked, slowly backing away from him.
“I…can explain.” His grip on the knife tightened and he raised his hands in the air as if in surender, never slowing his pace towards you.
“No, I think you need to leave.” You covered your body with your arms, trying not to trip over the furniture.
“No, no, no you’re misunderstanding --” He was getting closer to you, he reached his arms out to try and grab you.
“Leave me alone!” You screamed out as you broke into a run. You made a mad dash to the front door. Bucky was close behind you.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” He cried out as you fumbled with all the locks. Your hands were shaking, you tried to remove the chain from the door but it wasn’t moving fast enough.
Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body into his. His hard bulge poked at your ass.
“No!!” you cried out as you started to thrash around. You quickly stilled as the sharp point of the knife began to dig into your throat.
“Let’s calm down ok. I think you’re getting too worked up again.”
“B-Bucky, just say that it’s a prank. This was all a big prank. I won’t tell anyone. Just put the knife down please.” You try desperately to reason with him. He lets out an unamused grunt.
He began to drag you away from the door. You strained your neck as far as you could to keep the pressure from the knife as minimal as possible.
“You weren’t supposed to find out. Now it’s all ruined. Fuck. Fuuuck!” He growled. Clearly enraged he started to grapple you down to the floor.
“Why are you doing this to me?” You whimpered, tears oozing from the corners of your eyes. Rolling down your cheeks in huge streaks.
“You don’t get it. You never noticed me. All I wanted was for you to notice me. I just had to grease the wheels a little bit, put on a show to make you see…that I’m the guy for you.” He looked crazed. He moved the knife from your neck to your cheek. He caressed it against your cheeks like a lover's hand.
“Bucky please…put down the knife.”
“You’re misunderstanding me, you’re trying to run away! That’s why I have the knife because you need to listen to me. You always listen to the guy with the biggest tool in the room huh? You thought I was Tony. Does he call you up at night a lot or something? Huh?!”
You were just whimpering as he ranted above you. The blunt side of the knife was pressed against your cheek, the shiny metal reflecting into your eyes.
“Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” The look in Bucky’s eyes was primal, like he was no longer a man. The charming smile from before was now warped and too large, his lips curling to show his teeth and gums.
“You’re scaring me. Please don’t hurt me!”
“Hurt you? I would never.” He said, not moving the knife from your face. “I’m your boyfriend now. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”
He brought the knife down from your cheek slowly, the sharp tip dragging down your neck. He began to slice the top button off your nightgown.
“Now, you made such beautiful noises for me before. Let me hear you scream, Pumpkin.”
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clownhousemargarita · 2 months
Note
Can you do a Angel dust x shy (Charlie’s younger brother) male reader, he’s really shy and introverted but likes to sing and perform just like his big sister.
"Kissed?" -- Angel Dust.
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------- Summary: Despite being the Prince of Hell along side your sister, the Princess of Hell -- you find yourself closed off, just like a certain spider you knew. Pairing: Angel Dust x MALE! Reader Warnings: Sexual implications, Objectification, Suggestive. Enjoy. (I kind of left out the singing part, sorry about that. I sometimes just write and let my hands take me wherever.) --------
You loved your sister, you truly did. But good lord was she emotional. Nothing wrong with that, of course. You found yourself holding complicated emotions -- she had her girlfriend to express her feelings and distress to. You always wondered how Charlie could find trust in someone so easily, especially someone in Vaggie's situation. You envied your sister in a way, that she always saw the good in people. You experienced your family break up all in front of you, so you never had a good example of love and trust in your life. Once your mother and father paid enough attention to how you turned out, they did their best to hide it from your sister. The oldest was always the guinea pig child, as they say. This eventually brought out your introverted self, being a polar opposite to your sister and a great point to compare the two of you. When you arrived at the Hotel project your sister had been working on (because your shit ass father apparently had better things to do) , you felt proud of her. She brought in shitty people, attempted to help them, without working on her own problems. So proud.
You immediately found no connection with anyone there, especially Alastor. He gave you a stomach ache, a stomach ache full of daddy issues. You decided to keep away from him. You saw that Charlie already latched on to him. Another example of her trusting people TOO quickly, especially for your liking. You did find one connection though, someone you enjoyed to listen to. Angel Dust. Yes, they fucking porn star. You enjoyed listening to the porn star talking about whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about. You enjoyed hearing him, knowing there was another layer of him to unwrap. You knew he was much more than what was portrayed on television. He was a pretty spider, you understood why so many people found him so attractive. He was charming, cute, his voice was beautiful. That's honestly all you really thought of him, you never wanted to watch his films. Although he claims he gives consent, you felt as though it was disrespectful. It just didn't feel right to watch a man who you talk to get absolutely railed by some OTHER guy, mind you. It upset you, it shouldn't but it did. Which was a feeling you were going to bottle until it erupts on some inconvenient day. While you sat with Angel Dust as the bar, he rambled about how he thinks pigs are better than any animal to have as a pet. Which you entirely disagreed and continued to fight with him about. "You're biased, you have a fucking pig." You roll your eyes, giving him your hand to talk to. "Exactly! Thas how I know ther the best!" He shoots his hands in the air to emphasize his point. You make a talking motion with your hand as a way to mock what he was whining about. "Fuck you, 'm right. Right fat nuggets? Yes I am! Yes I am, daddy will always defend you, baby." His voice broke out into baby talk as his little piglet began wadding towards him. "Literally hate that you just called yourself daddy right now." Angel grins and shrugs. "I don't do it often, it's the other way around." "Oh, hell no." "What! That's my job!" "Shouldn't be." "Why're you hating on me today? You hate my guts!" "Yeah I do." "You should just rearrange them instead." "That's FUCKING insane, Angel." "Tellin' me you don't wanna?" You groan and slap the back of his head. Angel laughed, letting out a little moan before bringing his arms together to push his chest fluff out. "C'mon." He purrs, leaning closer to you. "I don't wanna fuck you." You flick his forehead, backing him bounce back a bit. He whines again, "Why not! I'd fuck you!" You roll your eyes, though you won't deny your flushed face. "You'd fuck everyone." "Not ya sistah." "That's really comforting actually." "I play for one team." "I'm on the bench." Angel laughed, you loved when you made him laugh. The best word to describe him was always just, 'pretty.' His laugh was pretty, his eyes, his makeup, his voice, everything. You clear your throat a bit before attempting something. "Ever actually kissed someone during a scene?" You ask, not looking him in the eyes. "Are ya dumb? Course I have." He tilted his head, raising a brow. "Nah, like an actual nice kiss. Not something aggressive or whatever." He sits there to think a bit, you knew what the answer was but you still wanted to make sure. He then shook his head.
"Do you not watch my films?" He asks before you speak. You shake your head. Angel looks taken aback. "Rude!" You chuckle and shrug. "Doesn't feel right, you're my friend." Angel felt his face flush up as well. Man, you know your fucked up when basic human decency gets you REALLY going. He only hummed. "Anyway, wanna know what an actual kiss feels like?" Angel's head perked up, his eyes were wide. "You wanna kiss me? Then what?" He grinned at the end of his sentence. "Just kiss, fuck. Relax -- tryna take it to base 34 already." You groan, swatting him. "..okay." He mumbled, his face red. "Never seen you red before." You tease, a smile wide on your face. "Fuck you man! Nobody says shit like how you do." You raise your brow this time. "Whaddya mean?" A smile still visible on your lips as you lean in. Angel feels himself start to sweat. "I dunno." He says, a little to quiet. You think he didn't meant to be so quiet, it just came out that way. Your eyes were lidded, "If you kiss me with tongue I'll bite your tongue, cook it, then feed it to Alastor." You threaten. Angel smiles wide, showing his bright gold tooth. "Thanks for the save." You roll your eyes before finally leaning in and pecking him on the lips. Angel opens his eyes, pauses for a second, before leaning back in for a more passionate kiss. His other arms that were above his waist pull you in, making you sit on his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck, stuffing your hands into his silky hair. It wasn't sexual, it was loving. And it was a bit too much for Angel. He pulled away, his face felt like it was burning. You looked back at him, waiting for a response. "Are you okay?" You ask. He only whimpered in response, leaning in and setting his head on your shoulder. His grip on your waist was tight, he wasn't crying, just processing. You hear him inhale, before finally saying something. "Thank you." It was mumbled, but enough. You smile softly and pet the back of his head. "Of course, stupid."
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iovesia · 1 year
Text
HIS BONNIE ON THE SIDE.
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𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. being in a relationship with dark!john wick through the years.
warnings. toxic relationship. nsfw. corruption kink. emotional manipulation. canon typical violence. gaslighting. not proof read.
pairings. dark!john wick ⠀𝒙⠀fem!reader.
josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ i love doing these little hcs (and also i've had no inspo for full length fics unfortunately </3). anyways, this is for my all my toxic!john wick enjoyers — hope you enjoy ♡ !!
#. requests are open. ⠀masterlist.⠀keanu reeves masterlist.
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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.
dark!young!john wick is so much more impulsive, especially when it comes to you. even though he’s only in his twenties, his name is rapidly spreading throughout the crime world. john's known for his ruthlessness and ambition— and you get to be the first to fall victim to both, and live.
john is a bit of an adrenaline junkie— loves the thrill of the chase. whenever you try to escape from him, he’s hot on your tail. this game of cat and mouse only makes catching you so much more fun.
his jealousy is worse when he’s younger (although it never really gets better). having been raised in the ruska roma (a desolate home, completely void of love and feelings), he’s projecting all his emotional turmoil onto you.
again, john was taught to wield the sharpest blades, and wield the heaviest of guns— but feelings… heart to hearts? he’s almost emotionally inept. 
"thought you were too tired to go out," his voice makes you jump as you nearly drop your keys from your hands. you turn around, noticing him hiding behind your entrance door, lurking.
"i-i just went for a walk," you stammer. john's footsteps echo in your tiny apartment when he comes closer. towering over you at 6'1, you gaze upwards at your lover.
"yeah, i know. i saw you.. and him."
he’s fuming watching you get cozy and comfortable around other people, even if it’s just platonic. john wishes you were like that around him, and not so guarded and fearful.
and heaven forbid one of your male friends tried anything— anything. you’re devastated to see their photo splashed on the morning news the next day.
he’s possessive as all hell. working in crime syndicates and doing hits for the mob heightens his paranoia of something happening to you, so whenever possible, he keeps you under constant surveillance.
you frequently get into fights about this. even if you bring up the subject nicely, he damn near freaks out. 
“i just want some space. i'm not even sure you trust me at all!” your hands flop to your sides frustratedly, eyes fluttering with exhaustion at the tiresome loop of this conversation.
“i'm not going anywhere, ever. you can be sure of that.”
young!john is so quick to react, too quick. your arguments can get ugly very fast. seeing him so explosive and agitated with you in contrast to his usual charming and cool nature grounds you in reality— he's a cold blooded killer, and he could if he wanted to...
speaking of killing, because of his job, he randomly disappears for weeks or months at a time.
you miss him so badly, but it’s not like you could call him or talk to him in any way, so you spend many sleepless nights wondering what the hell he’s doing. if he’s even alive.
don't even try to break up with him, or ghost him. younger john is not above kidnapping you— and even worse, pretending like it's your fault. you've been a bad girl, and now you've forced his hand :(
dark john wick is a manhandler! i'm speaking my truth! he’s just so much bigger than you, and stronger than you, sometimes he doesn’t even realise the brute of his strength against you. 
he grabs your arm when dragging you somewhere, throws you over his shoulder, or when he’s feeling particularly passionate, just presses his fingers into your cheeks and pulls you in for a rough kiss.
"it's you and me, till the end. i meant it, you know that right?" john asks softly, his forehead gently pressed against yours, his dark irises searching yours for any semblance of understanding. you slowly nod, and try not to cry when he locks his lips with yours.
⠀⠀⠀
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.
dark!older!john wick is silent but deadly. having (somewhat) emotionally matured into his middle aged years, he’s more calculated, and logical when it comes to you.
less explosive and controlled by impulses, his ability to fill your innocent little heart with guilt is almost impressive.
“i’m sorry, john, please,” you wrap your arms around him from behind, your chest pressed against his back as you rest your chin on his shoulder . “i-i do trust you, i swear. how can i show you i do?”
while john’s face may well be presenting a hurt facade, he can’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants. your glassy doe eyes, quiet sniffles, and desperate need to want to be in his good graces again— who is he to pass up the opportunity?
even older, he is still so fiercely protective over you. he’s the infamous baba yaga, he’s not taking any chances. you’re damn near suffocated from how tight a leash he keeps you on.
when you keep resisting his “protection”— john is determined to make you see how much you need him. he’d probably hire someone to scare you a little bit, or even do it himself, just to have you driven back into his loving arms.
“i’m here, honey,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around you, enclosing you in his warm embrace as you sobbed into his chest. thankfully you miss the small eerie smile on his face. “i’ll always keep you safe.”
he has a little bit of a corruption kink. you're this sweet little thing, and john's ready to completely smear your rose-tinted view of life. while he doesn't give you all the gorey details, whatever he does tell you just adds onto the emotional manipulation that you need him. that you can't live without him (when it's practically the vice versa).
he's so unbelievably devoted to you. it's actually unhealthy, you're constantly on his mind. normally, he can keep underwraps how sickly in love he is with you— but during sex is when his darkest thoughts come out.
“i’ll kill them,” his lips against your ear, a hand gently holding your throat while the other is pressed against your button, vehemently rubbing circles.
he continues rutting into you, deliciously stretching your small cunt with his large cock. the tip gently kissing your cervix as you let out a strangled moan, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. “I’ll kill them all for you, every last one.”
he’s kind of condescending in a way that he thinks you need his help for every little thing. at first it makes you feel small, and stupid— hey, you may not be the world’s most feared assassin but surely you don’t need his help with walking to work in the morning!
he's always right (or at least he thinks). having been put on a pedestal by the crime world, it's no wonder john develops a slight superiority complex. john likes to let you "win" fights— but deep down, it's his way or no way.
*cough* he's a stalker *cough*.
either way, younger!john or older!john perceive you as the angel among his demons. the one thing in his life that could cleanse his soul— or taint yours.
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seungkw1 · 15 days
Text
sketchbook — xmh
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♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none
“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”
you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.
“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.
“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”
“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”
“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.
“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.
“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”
he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.
“wait! i like this one.”
you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.
“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”
minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”
“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”
“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”
you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”
“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 
you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”
“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”
you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”
“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”
you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.
“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”
“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”
one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 
“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”
“well, what do you want to improve the most?”
you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”
“sure, why not?”
“because that’s weird!”
“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”
“you?? right now?”
“yeah.”
you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 
you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”
minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 
you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 
you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 
you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.
as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.
“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.
“you hate it.”
minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”
“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”
he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”
you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 
“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.
“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”
he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.
“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”
“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”
“you’re the best.”
“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 
another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.
you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 
you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.
delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.
“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.
you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 
“nothing, just…”
he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.
“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”
“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.
“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”
“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 
minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 
you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 
you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 
just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 
but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 
you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 
“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 
“i…” 
you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.
you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”
he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”
minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 
“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 
“y/n…”
you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 
he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 
your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.
“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”
“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”
you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 
“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 
“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”
he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”
he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 
“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 
you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.
“starving, actually,” he admits.
“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”
he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”
“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 
you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.
“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.
you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.
“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.
“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.
he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”
“um… i-”
“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”
“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.
his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 
“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 
“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”
your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 
“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 
suddenly, he kisses you. 
he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 
electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 
and it's all for you. 
a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 
“hao…” you start.
he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 
“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 
“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 
you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 
“and why didn't you tell me?”
he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”
you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 
finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 
377 notes · View notes
dotster001 · 5 months
Text
For Tuna; Duel End
You can vote for the next ending here
Chapters One Two Three Choose a different ending
“I've had it! They're all worthless!” Grim shouted as he stormed into Ramshackle. 
You looked up warily from the book you were reading on the sofa.
“Who's worthless, Grim?” 
“They are!” He screeched, throwing some folders on the ground. You sighed at the mess you would no doubt have to clean up.  
“Well, why are they worthless?” You moved to start cleaning up the folders, and he hissed at you. You retracted your hand. 
He stared for a moment, before looking off into the distance. 
“I, uh, have to do a partner project, for extra credit. And I'd narrowed it down to who I thought I should pick, but all of them are stupid head poopy butts.”
“That's rough, Grimmy,” you sighed, noticing one of the folders had a familiar name. You raised a brow. “How is Silver a stupid head poopy butt?”
Grim scowled. 
“He just is. Don't ask too many questions!” he sighed sadly. “I don't know what to do,Y/N, everyone I thought was perfect for this project is awful. I feel like I'm starting over!”
“Well, can I be your partner?”
“That would defeat the entire purpose,” he pouted.
Ah, probably an assignment that was meant to build his independence from you.
“Deuce always needs extra-”
“Blech!”
Not Deuce then. Got it.
“Well, what if you make a list of all the possible people who aren't, what was it?”
“Stupid head poopy butts.”
“Right. Then you can pick one randomly. If that one turns out to be a…well you know, you can pick a different one. And then if no one is good, please just go to Deuce. For the love of God, your grades reflect on me as well!”
“Go to Deuce?” He spat. “You have no idea what you ask of me, human! But still….your idea of picking randomly is not bad! Perhaps I have been putting too much thought into something that requires no thought at all!”
You highly doubted that. 
But he seemed happy again, putting together a list of seemingly unrelated names. You noted he wrote down your lab partner Alano’s name, before snickering and crossing it out.
Once he had all the names written down, he pulled a name out of a hat.
“Sebek?” You asked. “He's smart. He has a lot of life experience too. I bet he'd be a great fit.”
“Yeah, and his dad's a dentist,” Grim said with a worrying smile.
“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound excited for him, despite your confusion. “If you want, I can walk you over there. I need to give him back the notes I borrowed, anyway.”
“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Grim frowned.
“Okay, I can ask Mal Mal to bring the notes then-”
“I've changed my mind. Come with me.”
….
When Sebek wasn't in class, he was in the Diasomnia courtyard, dueling the training dummy. It was worse for wear; chunks of it were missing, and the parts still together had deep scars.
Never had he felt such painful turmoil in his life. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw you on someone's arm, be it Malleus, Lilia, Silver, Leona, or any of the numerous people Grim had chosen, then fired, within the past week.
Fired. They wouldn't be with you. But still.
He was snapped out of his heated fighting with the clang of metal against his sword. He blinked back to awareness, and processed Silver standing before him, sword in hand, body in an offensive position.
“You need to snap out of it,” Silver said. Sebek snarled, and swung at Silver, and was deflected easily.
“Do you think you're good for anyone right now?” Silver asked, and Sebek swung again, blind rage building up in him.
What the hell did Silver know about him? Who did he think he is?
“Father and Lord Malleus are both worried about you. Is that any way for a knight to act?” 
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH, HUMAN!”
Swords clanged against each other, one knight at peace, the other bursting with rage.
“If there's something you want, go get it!”
“You don't know anything about me!”
“I know the face you made when Grim told you he chose me, and the relief in your eyes when he changed his mind.”
“SHUT UP!”
Clang. Clang. Silver landed a hit with the flat of his blade, making Sebek fall back. His anger, if even possible, rose to new levels. He ran at Silver, sword swinging, only for Silver to side step and make Sebek trip.
“Y/N is a wonderful creature. You would be good together!”
“Ah!”
Clang.
“They bring out a gentler side to you that makes you a well rounded knight.”
Clang.
“But you have to admit what you want, Sebek!”
Clang. Clang. Clang.
“What do you want!”
“I want Y/N!” Sebek shouted, finally disarming Silver, and knocking his feet out from under him.
He breathed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow as he stared down at his defeated senior. Silver, as always, was smiling peacefully. A little too peacefully. He pointed over Sebek 's shoulder, and he turned to look. He felt immediate horror as he saw you standing with your cat creature.
You shyly waved at him, and Sebek felt his face grow bright red.
“I, uh, came to give you back your notes,” you said with a bashful smile.
“Oh.”
“And Grim wanted to ask you if-”
“It can wait, henchhuman! You two obviously have some things to talk about. Come Silver!” Grim turned on his heel to go, then turned back to Silver with a horrific glare.
“I said, let's go. You've clearly lost.”
Silver laughed happily.
“I'm not sure I did lose, Grim.” He stood up, gently clapped Sebek 's shoulder, and leaned in to whisper “good luck.” He hummed happily as he followed Grim into the Diasomnia castle.
Sebek stared pointedly at the ground, neither of you ready to break the silence.
After a bit, “You want me, huh?” Followed by a soft giggle.
“Who wouldn't want you? You're an excellent human,” he muttered.
“You're very sweet, Sebek.”
He looked up in shock, as you smiled at him. You weren't…rejecting his advances? And Grim wasn't stopping him? Had the world come to an end, and this was just a blissful dream in his last moments? No, Malleus would be in the dream too.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as his ringtone played the Valley of Thorns national anthem. He apologized quickly and picked up, expecting Master Lilia or his royal highness. 
Instead he was greeted by the voice of your cat.
“I'm giving you a chance, crocodile boy. You know what that means right?”
Sebek grunted in affirmative, turning away so you wouldn't see his face.
“There had better be three cases of luxury tuna on Ramshackle’s doorstep tomorrow morning, or you can kiss Y/N goodbye.”
He almost completely derailed himself by imagining kissing you, in any capacity. 
“Understood,” he grunted. There would be no tuna. He didn't need Grim's manipulations to hold your love. But he didn't want to deal with the argument, not when he was seconds away from getting the one he longed for.
“Good.” Grim hung up, and Sebek turned back to you. 
“Malleus was just…it doesn't matter,” he ran up to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in your shoulder. He held back the slight tremble his body wanted to give at finally having you in his arms. You wiggled a little bit, and he tightened the hold, not ready to let you out of his grasp yet. He was so unbelievably happy.
“Sebek, you're all sweaty!” You whined.
He pouted, taking a step back and placing a hand on your head.
“I am a knight, human. I train day and night to protect the ones I love. You're going to have to get used to the sweat of hard work!” He proclaimed proudly, before grinning. “After all, part of why I'll be training is so that I can be worthy of you.”
You gave a mock sigh, then opened your arms to him. He didn't hesitate to embrace you once again, tightly holding onto you, and the memory of this day, both of which he intended to hold onto forever.
The End
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