#I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO WATCH THIS FUCKING SHOW IMMEDIATELY

[lookingfts]

You are amazing!

All these bonus snippets have been such a treat

Have we heard anything from Like I see you Kanthony? They're one of my favs and I need to know how many times they've had sex at Kate's office

Thank you!

Also please know that I’m still working through my asks. I have at least two dozen unanswered ones, and every time I answer one, I get three more lol. So if I haven’t responded to yours yet, I will get to it when I have a chance!

*sexy snippet below*

Come let me in.

It takes a second for Kate to process his text. She checks her watch – it’s a little after seven, and there are still a handful of people in the office, preparing for a big corporate case.

She grabs her badge and heads downstairs, swiping him in. The tension seeps out of her body at the sight of her boyfriend, holding a bag of takeout from the sushi place she loves.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kate sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a sweet, lingering kiss. “But thank you.”

He cracks a crooked grin. “I had fully selfish motives. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she admits, scrunching up her face at how utterly sappy she’s gotten since they started dating. They both have demanding jobs, and some weeks their schedules don’t align all that well, though they try their best to make time for each other. “Do you want to eat in my office?”

“Yeah.” Kate takes him to her floor, and he says hi to several of her coworkers on the way, asking them about their families or their hobbies. He really can charm anyone and everyone.

They eat at her desk, chatting about their days and her case, and it’s exactly what she needed. For the first time all day, she feels relaxed and happy. Somewhere along the line, Anthony has become her favorite person.

He earns that designation even more when he cleans up the remnants of the food and comes up behind her chair, rubbing his hands over her shoulders. Kate practically melts into the touch, a soft sigh falling from her lips. “You’re so tense, honey.”

“I’ve just been sitting for too long,” she says, rubbing her hand over his muscular forearm. “God, that feels good.”

Anthony digs his thumbs into her shoulders, loosening the tightness there, and the sigh turns into more of a moan. He’s so talented with his hands.

He works her over like that for a while, until her body starts to unwind and release. Gently brushing her hair aside, he presses a kiss to her neck, then another, and she shivers. “Anthony…”

“I can help you,” he whispers in her ear, nipping at the lobe, and Kate realizes that he remembers her fantasy of getting fucked at work. Offering to make it a reality.

“I don’t-,” Kate pants as he sucks a bruise into her neck. “There are other people here.”

Anthony’s hand wanders lower, cupping her breast as he teases a hard nipple between his fingers. “Your door is locked. No one can see. You just need to try really hard to be quiet.”

That condescending motherfucker. It shouldn’t turn her on as much as it does, it really shouldn’t.

She wants it. Wants him so badly she can’t breathe. But Kate knows she can’t let go on her own. “I need…” she breathes as he pinches her nipple. “I need…”

“You need me to make you?” he growls, low and filthy.

Kate shudders. “Yes.”

Suddenly, his hands leave her, and Kate nearly whimpers at the loss. He spins her chair to the side, getting on his knees, his eyes pitch black as he looks up at her. “Cover your mouth, baby. You don’t need your coworkers to know what a little slut you are when I’m fucking you.”

Clasping a hand over her lips, she moans at the degradation. Kate lifts her hips as he tugs her damp knickers down her legs, immediately stuffing them into the pocket of his trousers. She won’t be getting those back, she already knows.

Spreading her thighs apart, Anthony gazes at her bare cunt under her skirt, shaking his head. “You’re so wet, Kate. You’re lucky I showed up. You’ve just been sitting here trying to work when what you really needed was to come home and let me take care of this needy little cunt.”

She gets impossibly wetter at that, and Anthony clearly notices, licking his lips. “Please,” Kate whispers, laying back in the chair. “Please, your mouth.”

“What about my mouth?”

Fuck, he’s going to make her say it. Anthony has always demanded her desires in explicit detail, but it feels especially wanton here, in the place where she has worked so hard to be taken seriously.

“Suck on my clit,” she says, her voice breathy but firm. “And put three fingers inside me.”

Anthony grins wickedly, swinging her right leg over his shoulder to hold her open and lowering his head. The first swipe of his tongue feels like lightning, searing through her body, and she puts her hand back in place to muffle her shaky cry.

He does exactly as she asks, laving her clit with his velvet soft mouth as he stretches her open on two fingers, slowly working in a third. Kate feels equal parts vulnerable and powerful, all soft and sloppy around his fingers, but with the most beautiful man in the world on his knees for her.

She’s so fucking full like this, his thick fingers claiming every empty space inside her, crooking to rub the spot that makes her leak arousal all over his hand. Anthony sucks her clit forcefully, keeping his eyes locked on hers, never breaking the contact. Kate thinks she’ll pass out at the sight of his perfect face buried in her cunt, at the clear pleasure he gets from worshipping her like this.

Kate has no choice but to come, hard, wetness slicking his chin as he greedily laps her up. Her walls squeeze Anthony’s fingers tight, and they both moan at the sensation.

Delicately, he pulls out of her as she slumps against the chair, gasping for breath. His hands run over her thighs, smearing arousal on her skin until she’s painted in it. “What the fuck,” she pants, at a loss for any other words.

“You needed that so bad,” Anthony murmurs, digging his nails into her thighs. “That’s my fault. I knew you were stressed at work. Needed me to fix it for you.”

He’s hard in his trousers, tenting rather obviously, and Kate aches for him. She’s as greedy as he is, wants to be filled up, consumed, controlled. Wants her pleasure forced out of her.

“Fuck me,” she begs, running her hand through his disheveled hair. “Bend me over my desk and make me take it.”

Anthony groans loudly against her thigh, sinking his teeth into the fragile flesh there. He’s utterly gorgeous like this, all blown pupils and swollen lips, staring at her like he wants to destroy her.

“Get on the fucking desk,” he orders, voice hoarse from the effort of staying quiet. Kate stands on shaky legs, carefully moving her laptop and her papers to the side. She rucks her skirt up around her waist as she leans over the desk, all open and exposed to him, her head resting against her arm.

His fingers dance along the swell of her arse, a pleased noise coming from his throat as he strokes her soft skin. Then they dip lower, teasing her wet folds, and Kate whines into her arm.

“So pretty,” Anthony praises, teasing her clit. “You’ve never done this with anyone else, have you? But you can’t help spreading your legs. Your little cunt knows it was made for me.”

Tears prick her eyes at the force of her need. He’s right. It’s only ever been him that can make her body respond like this, break down all her walls and drive her out of her mind. “Please,” she whimpers. “I love you, please.”

That’s the key; it always has been, ever since the first time she whispered it against his skin while he was fucking her slowly and tenderly in his bed. More than her submission, more than her screams of pleasure, he wants her confessions of love.

“I love you too,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Stay quiet, honey.”

He fucks right into her, trusting that she’s wet and relaxed enough to take him all the way. And she does, easily, her body rocking forward with the motion as she muffles her moans.

He fucks her, and she takes it. Willingly, eagerly, pushing back against him as much as he’ll let her. Anthony lays one hand on her upper back to keep her down, the other in a harsh grip on her hip, and Kate thinks she could happily die like this.

“Pull my hair,” she moans, and Anthony immediately gathers up her loose curls in his fist and tugs. The pain-pleasure at her scalp makes her feel delirious, and her orgasm is so close she can taste it on her tongue.

Distantly, she realizes that the desk is scraping against the floor, and she hopes to god that everyone else has already left. Though it’s an open secret that several of her coworkers are hooking up, and likely doing so in the office, so she doesn’t think they would rat her out even if they could hear.

She grips the edge as Anthony pounds her into the desk and then she’s shattering again, gushing onto him, keening his name. Anthony makes a rough noise and comes inside her, a welcome warmth between her thighs as her body fully relaxes.

Anthony sits in her chair, pulling her into his lap. Kate curls up against his chest, face tucked into his neck, finding a warmth and security in his arms that she doesn’t think she’s ever felt anywhere else.

“Better?” he asks, sliding his arms around her waist and holding her tight.

“So much better,” Kate sighs, nuzzling his neck. “Let’s just stay here for a while, and then you can take me home.”

#like i see you #bridgerton #kanthony #asks and answers #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic #missing scene

[wen-kexing-apologist]

IS BROTHER ANURAK THE ONE ARMED MAN?

OKAY! SO! 

I feel like I am teetering on the edge of delulu for this fucking show, but…because I just wrote a post about the Left Hand Path and all the left hand/left side imagery, and because I’m…well, me, and hands in shows are My Jam. When I was watching the promo trailer for Episodes 8-14, I noticed something. I never once saw Brother Anurak’s left arm. So I went to the teaser trailer for the whole show, just to see if it was coincidental that the like 5 seconds total of screen time Brother Anurak had in the Part 2 trailer just happened not to show his left arm…but uh…

Brother Anurak holds his rosary with only his right hand…

And Brother Anurak’s left hand just hangs at his side, rather than resting on his lap like his right hand is doing…

And Brother Anurak is shoving Trin with only his right hand…

And Brother Anurak’s left hand is hidden from view by some books…

And this, naturally, started me thinking about the One Armed Man. We don’t know much about this man, only that lost his left arm in an accident and then engaged in some homosexual and substance use activity, he was arrested and executed. We know that Dan, after losing his lucid dreaming stone, had some sort of dream or vision about this one armed man. 

We do not know what purpose he serves to the story yet, we do not know if he is truly evil or just presented that way by the villagers. I mean, if the One Armed Man truly is a wild ghost, the Venerable Monk gave a few theories himself: a) The wild ghosts in the village got angry when the school was built and floating bodies down the water in sacrifice was banned after World War II or b) the wild ghosts take those who ask them for help, and who they like. 

And we do not, currently, know the One Armed Man’s identity. Or…do we, cause you see, I was thinking about the fact that in just these trailers alone, I had not seen a single instance of Brother Anurak using his left hand. 

And so…I did what any completely reasonable, totally non-obsessed, definitely completely normal human being would do….

…and spent the last few hours watching every single scene that involved Brother Anurak in Episodes 1-7 to see if he ever uses his left hand. (I don’t have photo evidence for all of these because trying to screen shot them all would be impossible but, trust me or you can verify for yourself. I also recognize this is a lot, so you’re welcome to just like, choose at random which ones you read).

Episode 1

Welcoming Dan The first time we meet Brother Anurak is when Dan first steps foot on campus. Anurak is the person who gives Dan the school tour and walks him to class. When Dan arrives, he does the traditional ‘wai’ hands that we have come to expect of any Thai show, that is, he presses the palms of both of his hands together when he says hello. Brother Anurak, whose arms are both tucked behind his back, does not return the ‘wai’ and instead just nods. When Rerng, the groundskeeper, runs in to Dan and Anurak, he does the ‘wai’ hands at Anurak and uh…once again Anurak just nods, he does not return the ‘wai’. When he introduces Rerng to Dan, he gestures at Rerng using only his right hand. Otherwise his hands remain tucked behind his back out of view. 

Rescuing Dan from Anan  We are introduced to Anan in the locker room where he immediately establishes his Utter Irrepentant Douchebag status and tries to control all the boys. Anan comes in at some point and puts a stop to Anan’s hazing, and you don’t really see his body at all, the camera mostly focuses on close ups, but if you watch closely you can see only his right shoulder moving because he’s gesturing with his right hand. His left shoulder stays relatively still. 

Talking to Dan about the Shadow

Brother Anurak has been working with Dan and his mother since Dan was about 7 years old. When Brother Anurak is talking with Dan in his office after his first Shadow dream, you can see Anurak’s left hand stays staunchly at his side, he does everything in this scene with his right hand. 

Visiting Dan in the infirmary  Dan spent the night in his dorm away from his dorm…the infirmary, after he faints in class. Brother Anurak comes to visit him, and both of his hands are hidden by the bed for the entire scene. 

Episode 2

Finding Dan at the lake  At the end of Episode 2, Dan collapses near the lake while coming face to face with the Shadow. Anurak and Rerng find Nai and Dan, and Rerng helps Nai carry Dan, Anurak takes the flashlight from Rerng with his right hand and that is his full contribution for Getting Dan Out of There.  

Talking to Nai  When Brother Anurak is scolding Nai about being off school grounds with Dan, his hands are once again hidden behind his desk, and he only gestures with his right hand. 

Visiting Dan in the infirmary → transitions to his office

Brother Anurak is standing on Dan’s right in the infirmary when he wakes up after his collapse at the lake. Once again, Brother Anurak’s hands are hidden behind the bed, so you can’t see them, and then when, out of nowhere, Dan and Anurak are talking in Anurak’s office, his left hand is hidden behind the arm of his chair. 

Dan wakes up from his dream

During their office session, Dan is shunted out of his dream and realizes that he has been in teh infirmary the entire time, and was not actually in Brother Anurak’s office at all. What has snapped him out of his dream is Brother Anurak shaking him awake, but… he is only using his right hand. 

[Side Note: I am taking careful notice of the fact that Dan’s ability to remain present and conscious in reality seems to slip often when he is in Brother Anurak’s presence. Then again, he also sees the Shadow a bunch when he is around the theater teacher, but I have already looked at his hands, and his left hand is real and he does use it so I at the very least I don’t think he has any relationship to the one armed man.]

Episode 3

Dan, Josh, and Nai are punished for coming back late.  At some point, Anurak appears to observe, but not deliver, the caning of Dan, Josh, and Nai for missing curfew after going to see the Venerable Monk. We get a wider shot, which means Anurak’s left hand is visible, but it is held in exactly the same position it always is, and he continues to only gesture with his right hand. 

Telling Dan not to wear the ring   Brother Anurak runs in to the boys in between classes, and he notices the lucid dreaming stone around Dan’s neck. Anurak reminds him that accessories are not allowed in school, and while standing there, his left hand still in the same position it has always been in, and he only points to  Dan’s necklace with his right hand. 

Teaching class 

Brother Anurak is writing on the white board with his right hand, this in and of itself is not all too suspicious because he could just be right handed, but when turns to face the class, his hands are covered by the students so you can’t see either one of them. He moves to the podium and his left hand, which continues to hang at his side, is hidden behind the podium, so we can’t see his left hand. But he places his right hand on the podium, and whatever brief glimpses of the left hand we see when it peeks out the side of the podium, it is in exactly the same position as it always is. 

Episode 4

Grabbing Dan from his room to take him to visit his Dad  When Brother Anurak visits Dan and Josh’s room to bring Dan to the hospital to say goodbye to his father, not only is Anurak’s left hand hanging at his side, but he is shot from the right side of his body so any potentially visible part of his left hand is hidden by the open dorm room door.

At the hospital Anurak is standing on Dan’s father’s left hand side, making his left hand visible… in exactly the same position it always is, his fingers never even twitch. When Anurak leaves the room to give Dan some time alone with his father, he uses his right arm to comfort Dan even though his left arm is closer to Dan’s shoulder. 

Outside the hospital room, after the flashback to Dan’s homelife  Left hand visible, in exactly the same position it always is, cut to talking to Dan outside the hospital room, his left hand is hidden between his legs. We get the best close up we have had of Anurak’s left hand and it is too smooth, and is lacking in any pores or spots, and it’s weirdly shiny. (Unfortunately like the one above, the way my computer works for screenshots, the play bar covers the part of the screen I would need to take a photo of).

Flashback to Anurak talking with Dan’s mother

When we see Anurak interacting with Dan’s mother, because she was his patient, his left hand is visible, still in the same position. AND HOLY SHIT, ANYONE READING THIS, YOU NEED TO GO TO TIME STAMP 18:27 AND WATCH HOW BROTHER ANURAK STANDS UP FROM HIS CHAIR. THAT LEFT HAND IS FUCKING FAKE. IT’S FUCKING FAKE!!! He gives the rosary to Dan’s mother with his right hand. 

Dan’s mother’s funeral  Anurak is sitting on a bench outside the temple, and we only see him after Dan drops the coin he has leftover from buying ice cream, and it hits Anurak’s right foot. We pan out into a wide shot, and Anurak’s right side is visible. Both his hands are in Anurak’s lap but his right hand is covering his left hand so we can’t actually see it. Then, Dan sits on his left side so we never 

Baby!Dan sees the Shadow and Anurak comforts him

Shortly after his mother’s death, Dan wakes up in the middle of the night and sees the Shadow looming over him. He runs screaming from his room, at which point Brother Anurak appears on the stairwell. (What he is doing in their home after Dan’s father accused his mother of sleeping with Brother Anurak, is beyond me but I digress). Brother Anurak’s right arm is hugging Dan while his left arm stays at his side, in the same position it always is 

Right before Dan fights his father

Dan’s Father’s funeral  Anurak comes up to talk to Dan at his father’s funeral, and as he does he places his right hand on Dan’s shoulder. Left hand? Does nothing, as usual.

Episode 5

Dan confronts Brother Anurak

We get the scene from the trailer where Dan tells Brother Anurak that he thinks Trin was murdered after seeing the visage of Trin’s dead body in the pool. This is one of my favorite instances of the hidden left hand, due to the creative use of binder placement. You get a little bit of skin from Brother Anurak’s right hand because it is further away from the camera, but in the foreground? We are not entitled to see what Anurak’s left hand looks like. 

Flashback: Talking to Trin in his office after his Student President Win

After Trin wins the student body president race in a unanimous vote, he is taken first to the Headmaster’s office and then to speak with Brother Anurak about the policies he hopes to institute (read: the traditional systems Trin is hoping to change). Like always, both of Brother Anurak’s hands are initially hidden behind his desk, but as he gets more engaged, more serious about the conversation at hand (haha) he leans forward and he only brings his right hand on the table.

Anurak gets a phone call about Trin’s medical records

I don’t remember if this is the first phone call where Anurak is told that Trin had bipolar, was off his meds, and was treating his bipolar with narcotics, or if this is the second phone call where Anurak is calling an unknown person, angry because he didn’t know how Trin’s medical records got leaked to the press. Either way, and in both cases, he answers the phone with his right hand, and never uses his left. 

In his office with Trin’s parents 

Trin’s parents (one of whom is an MP) are naturally, pissed that Trin’s medical records got leaked and storms over to the school threatening to sue. Brother Anurak speaks with them in his office, and he offers them tea, using only his right hand, his left isn’t even in frame.

And while he is speaking with Trin’s parents, trying to calm them and sort things out, he once again, only puts his right hand on the table. His left is hidden from view. 

In his study, listening to old recordings of his sessions with Trin  Anurak is thinking more about Trin, and digs out old files of his using only his right hand to pull the files out of his cabinet. When he sits in his chair to listen to the audio tapes, his left arm settles in to the same position at his side as it always is when he’s in that chair, and he hides the hand very quickly underneath the file folder when he opens it.

Episode 6

Brother Anurak does not have a lot of screen time in Episode 6, but he is at the student org fair where he meets the husband of the homophobic teacher that is sleeping with Anan. And here again, the people he is with all do the ‘wai’ hands, while he just nods.

Episode 7

Taking Dan from the headmaster’s office after Anan beats him up

Dan is the unfortunate victim of Nai’s decision to blackmail Anan, and gets beaten up once again. He and Anan are called in to the Headmaster’s office to talk about what happened as Dan left the Funhouse, when all of a sudden Brother Anurak appears, asking to take Dan away since Dan is under his care. Brother Anurak’s left hand is visible, but it is once again, still held in the same position, and his right hand is the one he is using to place a comforting hand on Dan’s shoulder.

Talking to Dan in his office 

We reach the final scene with Brother Anurak in the first half of the show, before the One Armed Man is introduced to the story. And it is, once more, the same deal as it has always been throughout the entire show so far. Brother Anurak’s left hand is sitting at his side, in the same position is has literally never changed from. And then he is gone from the rest of the episode, so we don’t have any visual reminders that he exists while the One Armed Man is being introduced and discussed. I have gone through every scene, I have watched to see if his fingers even twitch. They do not, his left hand, whenever it is in view, never moves. You cannot convince me at this point that Brother Anurak and the One Armed Man aren’t connected somehow. This man does not have an actual left hand. 

I do not know if Brother Anurak is the One Armed Man, if he is the scapegoat for the One Armed Man, if he is possessed by, a reincarnation of, or a legitimate ghost of the One Armed Man we learn about at the end of the episode. I do not know what the Shadow is, what it wants, if it is malicious, neutral, or good, I do not know what the ghosts of Trin or those two boys want, who the dead bodies are, what happened at this school. I don’t know any of it, I don’t know if all the pieces of the puzzle we need to figure it out have been revealed yet. 

But the one thing I do know, is that Brother Anurak does not have a left hand, and the level of detail that the show has done to both reveal and hide that is truly fucking impressive. Utt Uttsada who plays Anurak is doing a fucking phenomena job. I do not know how much time and effort went in to consciously never moving that arm. Like he has not once, not ever moved it. His shoulder remains completely still, his arm swings precisely as much as someone with no lower limb to control will swing. He has to be wearing some sort of prosthetic glove to keep his hand exactly in place, to make sure that his fingers don’t twitch. 

It is so incredibly clever to hide his hand like this. To give us enough glances at his left hand from a distance so we don’t question it. I mean, we see his hand, right? We see it is there, it looks real, and there are so many other things to figure out about what the fuck is going on, that the last thing in our minds is the fact that Brother Anurak never uses his left hand. 

Anyway, I don’t even know if this will end up being BL, but I need the entire rest of the BL fandom to deal with the occasional jumpscare and creepy smiles and stares and watch this show, so that I can scream about this with more people. Because holy fucking shit, if this show maintains the quality it has given me with the first half of the story all the way to the end, it might make a last minute grab for Show of the Year for me, with how intentional it has been. 

#clown checkpoint #screaming crying throwing up about this show #shadow the series #I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO WATCH THIS FUCKING SHOW IMMEDIATELY #PLEASE #I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS SHOW WITH #wka long post #singto prachaya #fluke natouch #utt uttsada

[brittlebutch]

finding a character that grates against your nerves and eventually thinking, well, that's not fair, you haven't done anything; why do i dislike you? and then you dwell on this for a while and discover 'oh! you are like me when i was younger' and decide well, i'll simply learn how to love the both of you. power in this.

#N posts stuff #'what are you talking about?' fuck if i know. #but also i'm talking about penny from 'the 7' -- nosy little control freak determined to find Some foothold into Every conversation #it's interesting bc sometimes when i watch i'm like 'this character is played on the Border of metagaming' but the more i think abuot it #the less it Feels like metagaming bc penny Genuinely seems Exactly like the kind of person who just Is That Determined to be #some level of involved in Every situation; 'yeah i know that show you were in' 'Yeah i was listening into this scene from a different hall' #equal parts her being a Rogue character to her core AND her borderline pathological need for control in Every situation #w/ None of the social grace needed to temper this impulse into something more broadly 'palatable' -> very autistic to me in a way #'i don't Get It but if i'm Always Right then that's good bc it's Bad to be Wrong so i just have to Know Everything so that i'm Never Wrong' #or like 'no i don't understand the Rules right but if i can just Be In Charge of the Situation at all times then i'm the one domineering #where this is going and how it unfolds; like if i'm in charge i understand That at least so i will just Always be in charge' #and sometimes this starts fights with your friends and they call you a freak for it and you're like 'hm. i don't know what's going on #but if You said it and You Get People then you must be right so. i will alter this immediately' but penny doesn't have that interaction #because her friends are just like 'yeah i love you And that batshit way of interacting with the world that you embody' and there is a #temptation of sorts to be like 'penny you HAVE to stop that; you NEED to learn that lesson please' but then like. hm. does she? #much to think about. i don't interact w/ people enough anymore for this to impact my interactions with real people lol #but it Is interesting to peel apart a fictional character and find a Younger You in there. i can change how i think about Them at least

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

the reason i’m not afraid of aging is because i want to be a hot middle-aged man who has a toxic yaoi relationship with another middle-aged man

#u know i used to be so afraid of aging until i realized that i want to be a dilf. now it’s kinda exciting #i realized recently that i could never picture myself living past my twenties until i pictured myself as a man #but like. i want to be a man and a woman and nothing and everything #but like. i’m cool with how i look now for the most part idk if i would want to transition physically at least not rn #and rn i still dress fem enough that everyone goes straight to she/her #and i like she/her but it hurts rn #bc some of my family has switched to they/them or it/its and it’s just so soothing #but family that knows i don’t like it still use she/her and phrases like ‘daughter’ or whatever even more often on purpose #and it hurts bc i don’t really feel the need to change the way i dress/look but i know everyone assumes she/her #when they see me in a dress or skirt. even w how very not-cis my fashion sense is #but also i fucking hate pants which is a separate thing (prob autism tbh) and even if i wore pants they’d still use she/her #thinking of changing my name to something very masc so i can confuse people enough that they’ll stop defaulting to she/her #and i haven’t told ppl outside my immediate family so idc if they use she/her but i’m fucking pissed when ppl in the family do it #anyways side note when i was 12 my ideal gender (b4 i knew about being non-cis) was a floating consciousness w no body #or a plastic-doll-like creation that’s smooth all over #… i still want to be a floating consciousness actually lmao. it would be great #back then i hated being a girl but i didn’t know there were more options and also i was socially isolated (didn’t leave home for like 2yrs) #and my mother was openly transphobic whenever the topic was brought up so that was my only real experience #but i didn’t really internalize it other than the fact that my mother would be rude if i ever happened to be not-cis and guess what? she is #anyways it’s like 2am and also i’m only awake bc i was captivated by a sugar daddy middle aged gay fic for a show i watched like 5 episodes #for 2 years ago #sorry for rambling in the middle of the night lol #gn y’all

[pepprs]

like it’s VERY very important to not text and drive. and i understand how dangerous it is to do that and to be distracted at all in any way for any amount of time on the road. i know it’s important to learn about these stories and bear witness to them. but i just think. like idk. watching multiple of them every day for 10 days (with a two day break halfway through for the weekend) is realy… like idk. i think after seeing a couple you can get the point. i don’t want to sound dismissive or lackadaisacal and im scared im sounding like that but i just am so freaked out by all of this and witb every new horror they’re showing us it’s scaring me worse.

#purrs #delete later #car accidents tw #death tw #child death tw #ask to tag #drivers ed tag #like this sucks so bad. we go from watching a video about how to drive in the city… to a 10 minute vid of a man talking abt how he hit and #killed 3 kids and it shows a PICTURE OF THE SCENE OF THE ACCIDENT WITH BLOOD AND EVERYTHING… and then after the video we immediately start #talking about like. fucking street cleaners and how you have to watch out for them. HOW is the video about the kids being hit and killed #part of the flow of the learning. what purpose does it serve. and it’s like these are REAL PEOPLE who died. real kids who existed. and it #just feels kind of fucked up. maybe it’s more fucked up thst im not following the flow and accepting the weight of it but it’s hard to when #im scared as fuck and just want to not be shown gore videos anymore. and then once we pick up the content again like abt street cleaners and #shit i can’t focus on any content bc i have to wind down from seeing the dead bodies and hearing the letter the parents wrote. like how is t #this helping. maybe it’s landing / more necessary for the 16 year olds but im 24. i am a whole adult. i do not take being alive for granted #i am terrified of death and dying and painfully aware of how fragile human beings are and how easy it is to be in danger. this is not #helping me or sending me a message it’s just making me so scared and terrified to even leave the house and unable to stop thinking about #death or injury lol!!! and i can’t tell them to stop and i can’t quit bc i need my fucking license so i have to just put my head down and #do this but it sucks indescribably. and we also saw one of those trick videos again too that makes you feel stupid bc it tells you to count #the number of lkke. things you see and it turns out i missed a few AND they were like did you notice what was going on in the background snd #i didn’t bc i was too busy counting the fucking things they told us to. i want to SCREAM. this makes me feel so stupid and helpless lolllll #<- as i was typing that we were learning about the chance of survival if you are hit by a car at different speeds! bc that’s relevant 😍😍😍😍😍😍 #anyways. my therapist was telling me stuff abt how i need to remember this isn’t targeted for me and i need to regulate my nervous system an #and how to calm down when it triggers me but i forgot everything she said literally 5 hours ago and now im here freaking the fuck out so. 🥰

[ichayalovesyou]

Kurtzman Trek is The First Time I Have Hope They’ll Confirm Queer Spock. (GASP!)

It continues to boggle my mind that people are accusing Spock of being written like a ‘typical horny straight guy’ in SNW

When literally all he’s tried to do

Is have a decent relationship

With his fiancé

And pretty much only his fiancé!

And yet, and yet, people are acting like Spock is some kind of, woman of the week tomcat everytime he talks to a woman, Uhura, Chapel, or T’Pring. He says something nice to a female character and it’s like “HETERO ALERT OMFG IM GONNA THROW UP” Ugggggh.

Which honestly actually pisses me off. And not just because of the entitlement and biphobia baked into it. Although that part does make my blood boil.

Like, what happened to Geordi and Data, Bashir and Garak, Malcom Reed, all that Rick Berman fueled sexist queer rep smothering bullshit, is NOT what’s happening, at all.

This isn’t trying to hook up Garak with 18 year old Ziyal, or trashing the Dax/Bashir friendship arc in favor of having him hook up with Ezri, or Reed being really gross about T’Pol, or deciding Chakotay & 7 of 9 would be hot because Jeri Ryan, established romantic subplot and wlw Janeway energy be damned.

Spock is trying to make things work with his fiancé that is literally it.

Honestly, I’m not exaggerating when I say if we are gonna get any kind of non-subtextual non-book confirmation on queer Spock it’s gonna be NOW.

Kurtzman Trek is responsible for pretty much all the not one-shot outright queer rep that we have in the franchise! Stamets and Culber! Adira and Gray! Beckett and Jill! Heck, this era has proved it isn’t afraid of making preestablished characters canonically queer thanks to Raffi and Seven in Picard! Lower Decks is where we got the Spirk engraving at the space station bar!!

Check your perspective. Damn.

#all this immediate gratification binge watching bullshit has rotted y’all’s brains out #this is a fucking DECADE before Spirk and he’s ENGAGED #of COURSE they’re gonna explore that #it’s not homophobic to explore a character’s previous relationships #it’s just not #and like I keep saying #even if he ends up having a relationship with chapel too #that doesn’t make him magically straight #if anything it seems like this generation of Trek creators cares more about and would be the most likely to act on #how much they know a queer Spock would mean to people at this point #and the reception to Raffi and Secen seems pretty damn positive #the people who only care about numbers probably noticed that #and we know Jim is gonna show up soon #I’m more hopeful than ever actually #and y’all need to cut the drama #you’re hurting everyone who doesn’t fit into the binary gay and straight rhetoric #meaning trans and bi and pan people #alex kurtzman #Rick Berman #queer representation #Spock #Star Trek #Star Trek snw #strange new worlds #snw #dataforge #Garashir #Malcom Reed #Spirk #biphobia

[nexus-nebulae]

thinking about how not only my brain problems but also the way i was taught history in school has just completely fucked up my sense of time

#watching a video and was shown a picture of a person in colour #and then was told that it was like 40 years ago that that was taken #and it felt like i just got kicked in the spine like. what? colour photos? that long ago? #and then i realize that 40 years ago was only the 80's #and then like. how some things in history classes were framed to be older or more recent just to fit a narrative #like how most pictures you see of MLK are in black and white to put the thought in your head that this was Forever Ago #there are photos of that man in colour. they just never show them. #because this is Ancient History of course #but then things that were split by centuries are framed as all being homogenized Oh Here's Those Three Ancient Guys #bc they Only teach egypt greece and rome bc obviously nobody else fucking existed around then #what do you mean humans have been in north america for millenia whites were the First Ones To Find It #and it was So So Recent ago that sometimes ppl still call this place The New World (it's not. fucking. new.) #but also slavery was So So So long ago look all of that was in the past and it's history and we don't need to worry about it bc It's Over #(no it's fucking not. prison labor and outsourcing labor to countries with a lack of labor laws is still fully slavery :) #i love how sometimes the shit the right complains about is also the shit they fucking caused #like 'everything's made in china nothing is American™️ anymore >:(' #but then immediately 'why should we pay people to work >:( i'm gonna make other countries work for me bc they're cheaper >:(' #i hate this shit i wanna just become moss

[sttoru]

fav concubine trying to top but sukuna is... sukuna so he fucks her full nelson <3

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. trying to show lord sukuna that you can indeed be on top of him in bed ends up backfiring almost immediately & results in you nearly passing out.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. size difference. full nelson position. degredation. objectification. mention of (almost) passing out. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl, woman.’ beta read? nope

“i can do it, my lord,” you huff stubbornly. you don’t know where you got the courage from to be so assertive tonight. maybe it’s because of sukuna’s earlier words—those mocking words that he uttered to get a rise out of you. or to see you scared, perhaps.

‘y’re gonna need to do a lot more to keep me entertained, doll. gonna get bored of ya if y’ don’t.’

the sentences repeat in your head like a never ending chant. on one hand, you know sukuna was simply trying to play with your emotions, but on the other hand, you’re afraid that there might be some truth to his words. so, you take up the challenge.

“y’ can’t do shit, little girl,” sukuna rolls his eyes as he sees you climb onto his lap. his thick thighs are spread, his broad back against the headboard of the bed.

he doesn’t even try helping you like he usually does, with his hands guiding your hips. if you’re stubborn enough to try and be on top of the king of curses out of all people, you’re going to get minimal help.

“yes i can,” you mumble with a sense of uncertainty in your voice. you’ve never really done any of this. you’re usually on the receiving end, having sukuna easily move and bend your body however he sees fit. you’ve never imagined being in his place, “just watch me, my lord.”

you’re desperate to please him. you’re scared to lose your position as his favorite. you let the words get to your head—just like sukuna expected. the fact that you’re so gullible makes him stifle a condescending laugh.

“all ‘m seeing is you struggling to ride me,” the tall man clicks his tongue and his eyes lazily watch your attempts to sink down on his two, hard and dripping cocks. the contact his leaking tips makes with your cunt is enough to make sukuna grunt.

he’s trying hard to not slam you down on him fully. he’s used to take control—too used to it. seeing you struggle to even start is making him impatient.

“i-i’ll get it eventually, my lord,” you hiccup, nervous because of the fact that you’re on top of such a huge man. he’s staring at you menacingly, all his arms crossed over his chest. your hips tremble as you slide one of his cocks into your warm pussy, both of you hissing at the direct contact.

you try to fit the other in the same hole, but you simply cannot handle it at the moment. his upper dick slips right out and bumps against your clit instead. you clumsily fumble with the same one, trying to make place for it in your cunt.

sukuna can’t hold it in anymore. having you clamping down on one of his massive cocks, his girth stretching your small canal to fit all of it to the base and your face contorting in both discomfort and pleasure is making him lose it. “this isn’t gonna work. need to fuck you properly, doll.”

you’re not even one minute in and he’s yanked your small body off his lap, forcefully turning you around until your back is pressed against his chest and your head is rolled back to rest near his shoulder. sukuna’s upper hands hold your legs up by the back of your knees. his bottom set of hands wrap around his cocks and pushes one through your sensitive cunt whilst he fists the other.

“fff— mhhh! my lord! nonono,” you tear up. partially because the sudden intrusion hurts your insides and the stretch is unexpected, but mainly because you’re scared that sukuna’s angry with you. you don’t wish to lose his interest in you, “i’m sorry, let me try again.”

the king of curses slaps your clitoris harshly after that comment of yours. “that a demand? foolish woman,” he scoffs and his hips thrust upwards against the fat of your ass. squelchy noises fill the chambers and spill outside of the room—it’s loud. the bed creaking is unmissable as well with how fast he’s pounding you.

sukuna bites into your shoulder and holds back his grunts like that. he’s relentless, drilling into your cunt so hard that you’re getting numb. your body is limp in his beefy arms and your rationality leaves your mind. you’re more than overwhelmed.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whine and try to babble about something, but it’s all incoherent. you’re feeling lightheaded due to how much you’re taking of him. it feels amazing, soul ascending, but your emotions are in the way. even when you try not to show any attachment to the man you swore not to like.

sukuna ignores your pleas. his focus is on your slutty cunt swallowing every inch of his lower dick like its nothing. you’re used to it—he’s made you used to it—and somehow you’re still as tight as the first time. that and your submission to him is exciting. your adorable noises. the form of your body as it fits perfectly against his like you’re made for him.

you are made for him. your purpose is to please him, submit to him and give him what he deserves. that’s why he keeps you around.

“stop y’r whining,” sukuna grumbles. your knees are forced up against your ears and your tits are bouncing with each harsh thrust. “y’r a dumb fucking thing,” the king of curses presses down on the bottom of your stomach, increasing the pleasure for you, whilst also pleasing himself by knowing how deep you’re taking him, “do you think ‘m actually going to let you go?”

your eyes widen as sukuna picks up on your internal worries. you know there’s no hiding your feelings from him, even if you don’t talk about them to him. it’s like he can sense them. or see right through you with those piercing red eyes that leave you shivering for days.

“y’re too delicious to let go of. i don’t intend on letting anyone else get a taste of this pussy,” sukuna smirks and his tongue rolls out to lick your left ear. you gasp at the feeling and moan right after. you don’t try being quiet. you don’t care if anyone hears you. the reassurance was all you needed.

everyone around the estate knows you’re getting your guts rearranged by the same lord they serve. it’s the same routine every day.

“y’re mine,” sukuna grumbles and speeds up his thrusts until you’re seeing stars. you’re not sure if you can hold out for much longer. you can already feel your orgasm building up—and judging by sukuna’s tight grip on your thighs—he’s close to emptying himself deep inside you as well.

you try your best to keep up with everything, but your human mind can only focus on so much at once. you mumble some words in agreement as your head tilts to the side, your vision turning blurry and fuzzy, “all yours, m’lord.”

sukuna grins mischievously. he’s completely won you over. he’s got you wrapped around his finger. you’re easy, even if you think you’re the complete opposite. the skilled curse knows just what to say to make you all putty in his hands.

you’re gullible. easily manipulated. a perfect target for his mockery and teasing. that’s why he always has fun with you—whether it’d be in bed or not. his comment earlier was just to mess with you.

and expected, you walked right into his trap. you’re his favorite. his favorite to play around with. his favorite human.

“all mine. only mine.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n

[periprose]

Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image. 

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent. 

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea. 

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit  that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

/

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking. 

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick. 

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did. 

/

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home. 

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins. 

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.  

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

/

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?” 

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.   

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you. 

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper. 

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together. 

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does. 

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

/

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things. 

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways. 

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

/

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck. 

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you. 

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course. 

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body. 

“I said, how is that any different from before?” 

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad. 

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember). 

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself. 

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business. 

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops. 

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses. 

You blink, tears rolling down your face. 

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room. 

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

/

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day. 

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders. 

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

/

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.” 

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world. 

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain. 

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does. 

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

/

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out. 

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his. 

You laugh at something the guy next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular. 

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist. 

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition. 

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout tv #fallout x reader #fallout x you #ghoul x reader #ghoul x you #fallout show #fallout 2024 #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fotv #fallout series #fallout prime #the ghoul angst #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fluff #cooper howard imagine #fallout imagine

[ifwebefriends]

My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

#Bluey #bluey the sign #meme #Bluey heeler #rad heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #baby race #my ramblings #my rambles #frisky heeler #brandy cattle #spoilers #bluey the sign spoilers #bluey spoilers

[9toji]

MDNI / 18+ only | dumbification, mating press, age gap, dilf! toji x fem! reader

dilf! toji who said yes as fast as light could travel. he thinks you're the sweetest thing but when you ended up on his bed thinking that it would only be a one night stand. he was so wrong.. completely pulled in by your presence, immediately agreeing to your little acquaintances(friends)-with-benefits situation, thinking that it wouldn't cause much change in his life.

“don't get offended, sweetheart. you don't look the part of a brat.. look at you, all sweet f'me, isn't that right?” he cooed once, when he had offered to buy you new dresses in roppongi. his large hands brushing the skin of your faintly reddended cheeks. toji thinks you're cute, and that he wouldn't have to deal with a brat.

he was proven wrong very, very soon.

toji had his hand wrapped tightly around your neck, making you bend in half so that your manicured toes were touching your earlobes. “you're quite—fuckin'— flexible..” the older man commented, his body pressed up on top of you. heavy balls slipping against the curve of your ass, making you shudder slightly. “never thought that you of all people.. would disobey me?"

you had angered toji, in pursuit of something less than appropriate. grunting when you placed yourself “innocently” on his lap while he was watching one of his lame game shows, eyes reflecting the bright lights that came from the television. those same pair that looked down as you slipped (read: grinded) on to his sweats covered bulge.

here you are, your flexibility tested when toji pushed your legs up further. “i just loveeee puttin' you in mating press.. gonna be my favorite position, whaddya think sweetheart?" he groaned, pushing and nuzzling his head into your neck. sharp and canine-like teeth digging into your neck, leaving messy hickies all over.

toji just loved seeing the fucked out expression on your face, thrusting deep enough until you started to babble incoherently, saliva bubbling in your mouth. “what's that? better speak up right, or i won't give you what you want..” mocked toji, a sly grin on his sweaty face as he pounded himself, deeper and deeper.

he always managed to bottom out with every deep thrust, his grip on your hands getting shaky, and you could feel the sweat dripping from his palms. “y'know you can talk.. i don't like not givin' you what you want but ya need to talk sweetie, talk for me..” toji knew you couldn't, his smirk growing wider. he loved making his girl, you, dumb when he fucks you.

“hope this is a lesson, sweet thing. don't tease me.. mkay?” he growled, hands slowly letting go of your numbing wrists.. caressing your torso and your chest. shuddering even more when he bottomed out again, his thrusts halting when he feels himself come inside you. heaving for a breath before he toji ultimately whispered into your ear, “because i'll fuck you the way you want me to.. in a much more appropriate and befitting way, sweetheart.”

“and you know how mean i get when i fuck you.. right?"

#rina; jjk works 🎧 #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji zenin #dilf toji #toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk drabble #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk; toji 𓆩♡𓆪

[scoutswritingcorner]

Can I request Hazbin Hotel characters reacting to an artist!reader that draws a lot but never shows anyone their work but one day accidentally left it out and their partner finds it and sees several sketches and finished drawings of them? Sorry if it’s an odd ask, I’m an artist and I thought it would be a cute idea I don’t see nearly enough, it’s okay if you can’t. Thank you either way!!!

Artist Rendition

Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader

TW:A little flirty with Angel’s reaction. Other than that none!

A/N: Not an odd request at all, Friend! For Angel’s part I did write for a male Reader and Fem Reader for Vaggie! KINDA SHORT I APOLOGIZE FRIEND!

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Alastor was very curious to see you carry a sketchbook around all the time. He wanted to pry so badly.

-🦌 But he didn’t, he simply ignored the book and only ever asked about it if you were near him. You always get flustered and hide the book even further. Oh now he’s wondering what kind of dark secrets you have in there~

-🦌 But to his surprise when he finds it open and on a page, he sees drawings of him, he carefully flips the page and sees a half down sketch of him sitting in front of the fireplace.

-🦌 Oh boy you just made his ego inflate and his undead heart soar to new heights. His tail starts wagging and that’s the only way someone can catch how happy he is.

-🦌 Now? He’s going to poke a little fun at you, “My Dear, if you had to pick anyone in the hotel to be your muse who would it be?” 

-🦌 Silly deer man loves you and your abilities, he often tells you that your work needs to be displayed in a museum.

-🍎Lucifer🍎-

-🍎 Oh boy- when he finds out you can draw? Oh he gets super excited and asks if you can draw him a duck- even if it’s a little doodle! He doesn’t care!

-He doesn’t really ask or pry into your hobby much but he will admit he does want to see what you draw.

-When he does see that you drew him of all people he gets all flustered and he’s prideful cause his partner?? His darling little angel drew him?!?

-He will volunteer to pose for you, he’s used to sitting still for hours on end! 

-He will even pose naked if you want him to! Just say the word and he’ll drop his clothes right there.

-🎰Husk🎰-

-🎰 He watched you sit at the bar and draw to your heart's content and never really commented on it.

-🎰 When he does peek into your sketchbook it’s to pull behind the bar into a safe place so nothing ruins your work.

-🎰That’s when he notices the drawings and doodles of him and his tail curls happily. The way you captured him doing menial tasks sends his heart into overdrive.

-🎰 You were too good for him, damn it. The next time you find it? It has a little sticky note on the cover of your sketchbook and it has a little drawing of you with a small message, “Had to go out with Alastor. Love you, Dollface.” 

-🕷️ Angel Dust 🩷-

-🕷️ Oh this man- he loves it! You’re an artist and he’s also like an artist! But of a very very different genre.

-🩷 He also doesn’t pry much as he understands privacy. He wants to give you that as much as he can since he doesn’t get much of it.

-🕷️ Once he finds out you draw him? He’s over the fucking moon cause his man? His precious boyfriend draws him! 

-🩷Expect him to start flirting more and more but with art related flirts. “Come on, Suga’~ Draw me like one of your french girls~” im sorry. He’s very supportive!

-👑Charlie👑-

-👑 oh this baby girl..she’s been so busy lately that if she did notice it completely slipped her mind!

-👑 But when she finds your sketchbook? She gets super excited cause you draw this good?? She’s so proud that she immediately goes to find you!

-👑 She is another who fully supports you! You need anything, don't hesitate to ask!

-👑 Will try to convince you to start painting for the hotel! You can say no it won’t offend her.

-🎀Vaggie🎀-

-🎀 Much like Husk she won’t point it out or comment on it.

-🎀Will find out you draw her when she sees it when cleaning up and gets all blushy cause this is how you see her?

-🎀 Comes clean immediately about seeing your drawings and tells you how amazing they are.

-🎀 Shyly asks if she can pose for you next time, how could you say no to her?

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader #angel dust imagine #angel dust x you #angel dust x male reader #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #charlie morningstar #charlie x reader #hazbin charlie #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #husker x reader #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk x you #male reader #female reader

[libraryofgage]

Been watching sooooo much say yes to the dress so.....

Steve and Robin are consultants and co-designers at Kleinsfeld. Robin especially loves designing and Steve really loves that moment brides find The Dress because they light up and he helped make that happen and it just makes him smile

Enter Eddie Munson, rockstar and definitely not in a relationship but at Kleinsfeld to find a dress he can wear for an upcoming music video that's a little corpse bride vibes re revenge and murder (dead bride raised by necromancer and given opportunity to get revenge on her killer ex)

Eddie shows up with the guys and Steve/Robin are their consultants (they can't be separated bad things happen like Robin knocking over a rack of dresses bc Steve isn't there to pull her back in time) and when Steve (knows who Eddie is, doesn't care that much, they get celebrities all the time) asks who the bride is neither blink at Eddie raising his hand with a shit eating grin

They just go right into the design/style/budget questions and Eddie is almost disappointed he didn't get to cause more of a scene lmao

Anyway Steve is the one helping in the dressing room and he's getting Eddie into this big dramatic ballgown when Eddie asks why he's a consultant

Steve inadvertently just rambles about helping brides and making them feel the center of attention and cared for and special during their appointments. He also talks about designing affordable but fashionable dresses with Robin since he has experience with high fashion and general design and she knows best about keeping costs down without making things ugly

Obviously Eddie Munson is immediately heart eyes listening to this guy describe all of this while expertly lacing a ballgown corset and getting clips in place so it fits right and before he knows it Steve is leading him to where Robin and the band are waiting

The guys are immediately all giving Looks (derogatory) but can't describe what's wrong until Robin looks at Eddie and asks if he's adverse to negative feedback

Eddie is like "???? No, I guess???"

And is just even more confused when Robin goes, "No. Really, think about it."

So when he says it's fine Robin pushes Steve forward and tells him to let loose. Eddie is surprised cuz Steve is so sweet? How could he possibly be mean? And then Steve just holds nothing back like "the color washes you out, that beading makes your chest look uneven, the ballgown is actually a horrible silhouette on you because you just look uncomfortable having so much dress hanging off you"

And he says it all with this little popped out hip and slightly pursed mouth and raised eyebrow and it's so so bitchy and Eddie is fucking in love okay, he's gone, he needs to make fun of other people with Steve immediately

But also he's a gremlin so he's like "can a guy even look good in a wedding dress tho, like, does it matter?"

And Robin immediately jumps in like "of course it does you plebian especially if you want the music video to be any good"

This leads to Eddie and the guys not believing them so Robin and Steve share A Look and they do love proving people wrong so they're both like "bet" and tell Eddie to wait there

Cue them grabbing a sample dress (click to see what I'm thinking literally this is such a pretty dress holy shit) from their collection, putting Steve in it, and then showing it off

Eddie is dead. Immediately. Steve's arms? His legs? His chest? His confident little smirk as he spins in front of them?? 4 braincells dead and 28 injured in Eddie’s head

Anyway he literally ends up on his knees begging Steve to be in the music video, Steve agrees cuz he thinks Eddie is hot and funny, and CC fans lose their shit over the bride and his dress in the music video, especially when he and Eddie kiss at the end after the revenge murdering

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #stobin #robin buckley #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson #designer steve harrington #say yes to the dress #my writing #the brainworms here are unbelievable #maybe I'll write it one day #idk have to see how long it lingers hfkshfks #bitchy steve harrington my beloved btw #i love that for him

[ozzgin]

Hello!

🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.

Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?

I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?

The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.

Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually

Sincerely

-🌟

Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;

Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)

Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.

“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.

“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”

“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.

The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.

The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.

“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.

You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.

You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.

And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.

This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.

“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”

You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.

“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.

“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.

“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.

Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.

Unfortunately, there is no time for that.

The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.

The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.

“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.

“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”

He stares in confusion.

“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.

“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”

Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.

“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”

He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.

“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.

This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.

“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”

What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.

“Sure. I know a better place, though.”

Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.

“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”

“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”

“Excuse me?”

Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.

“H-hey, what did you mean-”

The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.

You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.

“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.

The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.

“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.

Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.

“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”

Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.

Your bodyguard truly knows you best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic #yandere male #obsessive love #female reader

[deadghosy]

HEADCANNONS OF HAZBIN HOTEL CREW WITH CATNAP! READER

Prompt: you are a resident in the hotel who makes sure people sleep. No one gets out of your grasp of not sleeping.

Warning: you aren’t an experiment, you died to og catnap’s smoke as you coughed going to hell. Also this might be long based on how your reading speed is.

I headcannon you to always walk around at night around the hotel making sure the hotel cast sleeps as you don’t sleep much either.

“I ensure you my friend I don’t need-" immediately Alastor passes out on the ground as the red smoke exit your mouth as you soullessly stare at the powerful man’s body with your creepy smile.

You don’t give a fuck- you are quite ruthless when putting someone to sleep. You had a smug teeth smile as you dragged Alastor by his leg to his room.

Angel was hiding in the hallway scared as red smoke covers the halls. “Shit…” he says as he eyes your tall figure walkby around the other side of the hall as your red smoke exiting your mouth follows

He was absolutely fucked. Angel tried to turn to run only to bump into purple fur as he holds himself at your chest. He blushes seeing your smug smile down at him.

Before he could protest the red smoke hits his face as your wrap your tail around his waist. How did you get so damn quick beside him?! You put him on your shoulder as you walked to his room to lay him down.

No one knows…..

Now when it’s morning time, you aren’t out as usual. Only at night time as you are use to being up at night helping other sleep. It’s part of your purpose and role as you even have a moon 🌙 pendent on your collar.

Hell, Angel is the most closest to you because he has rough times sleeping after working. He wouldn’t tell you what he does but all you know. He is physically and mentally tired from his job as you hold him in your soft arm as you let out red smoke from your mouth.

Your fur smelling like vanilla and lavender helps him sleep as he cuddles into your soft purple fur as you watch tv with a bored expression. Your ear twitches as Angel snores loudly.

Your red smoke is the only smoke he likes that is red.

Charlie found you at her door of the hotel and questioned you to why you wanted to work here. And what did you say.

“I want to help people sleep…” you said with a raspy deep voice as you smirked at Charlie who seemed a little unsure at your smirk as it seemed full of confidence and sinster. But she liked your determination as she hired you.

Of course I headcannon catnap’s fur and so as yours to smell like lavender to match the soft smell of sleeping to help residents sleep better than they ever have.

I also headcannon you have claws that can be retract like a cat. You usually use your claws/nail to cut something for the crew, or to protect from demons or sinner trying to harm the hazbin hotel.

CREW HEADCANNONS!

I headcannon husk walking to you grumbling drunk as he drops on your body without you even needing to use your smoke on him. Honestly you patted him as you both were cats. You both purr in each other presences. Angel and Charlie recorded the moment to save for their whole life.

I headcannon after Lucifer moved in the hotel. He was definitely scared if you because of your endless wide ass gaping smile. But after you actually showed you can stop smiling like that. He stopped having nightmares of you🦆. Poor little duck man had to hold his covers hearing your big ass steps around the halls.

I headcannon Angel and you sometimes compete trying to see who’s chest fluff is most fluffy.

…and you won💀

Literally what did he think when a 8ft tall cat creature who can make you pass out and hallucinate things have much more softer fur than him.

I headcannon Nifty one time tried to make you take a bath, but dead ass you blow the smoke in her face as she face planted on your paw. You laid her on the couch as you walked upstairs to go to bed on your own.

I headcannon that Charlie sometimes tries to make you sleep with the other residents rather than you forcing others to sleep. It didn’t work out well as you stilled stayed up to knock people out.

Lucifer one time tried to talk to you…but he couldn’t get the hang of you being 8ft tall…it actually intimidated the king of hell himself as he gulps staring up at you. He forced you to get down low like a cat to face him as he pets you.

You purred of course with your usual grin making Lucifer blush as he rubs his face in your fur with a star gazed expression. Literally star in his eyes as he actually fells relaxed by the smell of lavender. 

Alastor hates you sometimes, but he loves how calm and quiet you are despite you knocking his ass flat like a bug getting hit with a fly swatter. But he appreciates how you care for people’s health and sleep schedule.

Pentious absolutely loves you as his egg boiz cuddle up to you if it’s winter. You smile your smug smile as you whistle at the eggs who seem happy to be by you as Pentious also snugs himself in your fur

I kinda imagine when most people see an 8ft tall ass purple cat with white pupils with full black eyes staring at them. They piss their pants running as the whole hazbin crew hugs you admiring how soft your fur is.

Vaggie once seen you use your red smoke on angel, and she was concerned as she literally whipped out her spear at you as you only stared confused with a raised brow. You pushed the spear out of your sight explaining that angel couldn’t sleep and asked you to help.

I can see that vaggie, Alastor, and Lucifer were the last ones to actually trust you before believing you have good intentions to helping people sleep.

The ones to immediately trust you was, Angel dust, a little bit of husk, Charlie immediately with nifty and Pentious behind her.

I headcannon you basically breathing out red smoke on accident once and knocking out the whole hotel cast as you sit there with your ears down ashamed

I image angel dust pulling out one of those cat lasers to tease you. But he didn’t know that husk and you would immediately meow and purr for the laser as both of your eyes dilated. Angel died laughing as he took a picture of you falling on your back trying to grab the laser.

I headcannon vaggie to train you to fight only for you to prove her wrong when she woke up gasping for air to find out you used your smoke on her. She woke 5 hours….yeah she never doubted you ever again

I image when watching a movie with the crew, some of them lean on you like pillow while some just use your tail like a blanket while you snore like an old grandpa.

I headcannon the overlords once had a meeting about you as one of them seen you and mistook you for a new scary overlord. But Lucifer being the silly man he is, showed them a photo of you cuddling up with him on the couch. “Nah, he’s just a big ol cuddly cat..” he says with a snake smile as the overlords look at him like “What..the fuck..”

#catnap!reader #catnap x reader #catnap #hazbin hotel x catnap! reader #crossover #hazbin #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel charlie #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x you

[talaok]

Needy

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel needs his fix of you, and he doesn't care if it makes you late.

Warnings: smut| oral sex (f receiving) and coming untouched. Joel is a little more sub in this one and he's obsessed with eating you out.

a/n: guys, i have a confession to make, i do not know what this is, i wrote it tonight and boy i'm so tired that i'm honestly not really sure about what i typed, but i was in the mood and i like this thing of Joel tuesdays im doing so... hope you'll enjoy.

"you look gorgeous, baby"

It didn't take a genius.

The way he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his body to yours, the way he whispered in your ear, the way he didn't break eye contact, looking at you from the mirror as he kissed your neck...

Joel Miller might have been a hard man to understand many times, but not when it was about sex.

"Joel" you stopped him immediately, neglecting the shimmers of pleasure he had ignited inside of you from such a small gesture "We don't have time"

If he heard you, he didn't show it.

His kisses only grew hotter and lower down your neck.

"Baby I'm serious" you breathed, feeling one of his hands travel down your sides "We're gonna be late"

Even with a bad ear, he should have definitely heard that, but his only response was a low groan and an attempt to hike up your dress.

"Baby-"

"just a peek" he murmured, sending a shiver up your spine "Just wanna look at her"

Even if your natural response was to roll your eyes, hearing him so desperate was doing things to you.

"please" he breathed "I'll be quick"

And after a moment of silence, as you considered what he'd just said, you finally huffed out a "fine"

It's just one peek after all, what could go wrong?

He had turned you around and was on his knees before you had time to blink, and your dress was pulled up to your belly before you could take a breath.

You watched him as he held your waist like you were a long-lost treasure he'd just found, and as his eyes trained on your clothed core with so much hunger and lust to turn them completely black.

And then slowly, oh so slowly, his right hand came to help, removing that torturous piece of fabric obstructing his view of (as he referred to it) "the most perfect pussy on the planet" 

"fuck" he groaned, his pupils dilatating so much they were one with his iris.

You let out a small chuckle at his amazement

"There, you saw it, can we go no-" you tried to speak, but were quickly interrupted

"just a kiss" 

He didn't even sound like himself, but like he was in a trance.

"just one" he breathed, leaning closer

You sighed, before agreeing 

"one"

And he didn't even answer you, he just went straight to it, groaning loudly as he kissed you right on your clit.

"Joel..." your hand found his hair, as a shock of pleasure coursed through you.

"just another one" he murmured, not giving you time to protest before his lips were on your core again, this time forcing a whimper out of your mouth.

"baby-"

But another groan of his interrupted your train of thought

"fuck you taste so fucking good" his eyes glanced up at you "I could eat you for every meal"

"Joel we're gonna be la-"

"let me taste you a little better" he growled, "just a bit, ok?"

But again, before you had time to give him a half-hearted excuse, he'd dived in, taking your pussy in his mouth like it was his lifelong duty.

His tongue was now swirling over your bud, your hole, and along your slit, making you forget all about your plans and the people waiting for you at the restaurant.

"shit baby" you moaned "f-fuck"

His hold on your waist got tighter, and soon, you realized his definition of "a bit" was much different from yours, as he didn't look like he had any intention of stopping, and to be honest, you were more than happy about it.

His nose was rubbing against your mound, you could feel his mustache tickling your skin and the way his tongue was tasting and savoring all of you was making you ascend to another universe, one where you didn't fall for Joel Miller's stupid tricks every time for example.

"J-Joel" 

And usually, he was very talkative during sex, for being such a man of a few words he really loved to talk when he was inside of you, but not when his mouth was busy, never, when his mouth was busy.

Eating your pussy for him was like a drug, I’m not kidding, you'd never met any other man who loved giving head like Joel did, most mornings than not you'd wake with him between your legs and go to sleep the same way, and when he didn't get his fix... well, you ended up arriving late at the restaurant.

"oh my god" you moaned, gripping his locks with more strength as his lips closed on your clit, sucking it deliciously "Joel fuck I-"

And that's the other thing, not only was Joel obsessed with going down on you, he was also amazing at it. Sometimes you didn't even last a full minute.

"f-fuck baby I-"

And with one final stroke of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and left wailing and crying as the orgasm took over your body.

He drank every single drop of your pleasure, not stopping to lick your pussy until you literally pulled him away by his head because you couldn't do it anymore.

"fuck" you exhaled, as your breathing tried to get back to normal.

He fixed your dress for you as he stood back up

"you're perfect" he murmured, a smile from ear to ear plastered on his face before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of yourself "fucking perfect"

You chuckled as you wrapped your arms behind his neck and kissed him again"We don't have time for me to take care of you too baby"

His lips pulled into a more shy smile now "yeah, that's not really necessary anyway"

You frowned, looking at him, before you let your eyes fall to his crotch.

A dark stain covered the front of his jeans.

"oh my god" you huffed out a laugh "go change"

"right away m'am" he nodded, giving you another quick kiss

"and wash your mouth a little bit"

And at that, he smirked 

"not a chance, sweetheart"

Your head tilted as you rolled your eyes at him.

"You, Joel Miller" you cocked an eyebrow as you looked into his hazel eyes"are a gross, gross perv"

A lazy smile pulled at his lips

"Only for you darlin'"

#and thank you so much for all the support on the final jump I love you guys #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo