#The World Tonight Full Episode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maplesyrupsainz · 3 months

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˖⁺｡˚⋆˙we're over | MV1 DR3˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: max verstappen x fashion designer!reader y/n (she/her) x daniel ricciardo

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff

summary: in which they are over (this time) and she has space for someone else in her heart

a/n: LOVE this request hehe ty so fun to do an alternative ending!!!

request!!!: hi! just saw your requests were open and i was wondering if you'd do a version of do-over where they don't get back together and she ends up with someone else(doesn't have to be on the grid could be like a hockey boy or anyone)

fc: maggie lindemann

my masterlist

original ending

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, yoursister, and 83,238 others

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 927,194 others

yourusername heard you need inspiration

view all 18,293 comments

yourbff my girl forever nd ever ⭐️

liked by yourusername

user1 new fan gained

user2 omg i rmmbr her from when she dated max & now im just rediscovering her she's sooo gorgeous wtaf

user3 i can't believe max fumbled her

user4 my competition for her hand jus tripled

user5 quadruped more like

user6 max verstappen found dead

user7 cant wait for a new collection

yourusername posted a story

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, and 318,928 others

ynupdates I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername i love u 🫀🫀

user8 u are fr the coolest girl in the world

yoursister so proud of you 🥹

yourusername stop it you'll make me emotional 😭

user9 you are so so loved

user10 nothing you could've said would put us off supporting u forever 🤘

messages →

instagram ->

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 719,948 others

maxverstappen1 life lately ⏰

view all 15,283 comments

user11 waiting for y/n to follow him back

user12 he re-followed her?!?!

user13 i need to know what's going on have they spoken since the podcast?!!

user14 exes to lovers whennnn

user15 he's so cute

landonorris why is your comment section so full up of drama max

maxverstappen1 i didnt ask for this

user16 max is so tired of us LOL

user17 not sorry

user18 i love drama

user19 max acting dumb like he didnt post this to get her attention

messages ->

instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by user17, user3, and 18,294 others

ynupdates y/n y/l/n spotted tonight outside a restaurant with f1 driver daniel ricciardo, following the release of a podcast episode on which y/n discussed her feelings on how her previous relationship (with max verstappen) played out. this comes following speculation about y/n and max rekindling their romance, but she has perhaps moved on to his ex-teammate and friend instead. we are sending our love to y/n as always!

view all 6,183 comments

user20 omg what is happening

user21 wtf is she on a date with daniel???

user22 & i was so certain her & max would get back together....

user23 maybe she's trying to make him jealous 😂

user24 some of u guys are delulu af

user25 what i would give to be a fly on the wall

user26 i hope he treats her well

yourusername

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 798,373 others

yourusername never lonely 🖤

view all 6,183 comments

user27 omg first time we've seen y/n with her guitar in ages

user28 the guitar omg

yourbff best girl in the world

yourusername i love u

yoursister hard at work or hardly working?

yourusername shut up you

user29 MAX IN THE LIKES

user30 omg???? is there still hope

user31 something is happening

user32 there's something in the air 🤔

yourusername posted stories

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 134,293 others

yourbff ???? are you being rizzed up

yourusername perhaps

yourbff better not be by an f1 driver thought we learned our lesson

yourusername of course not

user33 soft launch much

user34 daniel???

user35 IS IT DANIEL OR MAX

user36 the flowers, the resting ur head on a man's shoulder... this is a soft launch bro

ynupdates y/n pls acknowledge the pap pics 🫶🚨

user37 where u at y/n

twitter ->

instagram ->

ynupdates posted a story

liked by user22, user8, and 84,283 others

user43 oh my god it's real

user44 NO WAY??? IS SHE BACK IN THE PADDOCK??

user45 and she said just friends 🤨

user46 this is the craziest thing to happen to f1 imo

user47 oh netflix are gonna eat this up

user48 SHE IS NOT SLICK

yourusername posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and 548,293 others

charles_leclerc i will say i am shocked but happy beyond words to have you back!

yourusername ❤️❤️ catch up soon!

danielricciardo back for good

yourusername dont speak too soon

user49 SHAMELESS

user50 you got that new relationship glow

yourbff fantastic

yourusername shush you

ynupdates not you pretending you arent ecstatic

ynupdates posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, user44, and 128,103 others

user51 you sound thrilled

ynupdates trying to pretend like i care about racing 😀

user52 "just friends" yea right

yourusername never trust what y/n says 💀

user53 not her in the tauri garage there's no way they arent dating

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 828,045 others

yourusername weekend off

view all 5,921 comments

user54 they're just friends they're just friends they're just friends

user55 i don't believe it for a second

yourbff get back to work

yourusername im busy right now

yourbff oh i wonder what with

user56 danny ric danny ric danny ric

user56 she gets prettier everytime i see her

danielricciardo so glad to have you back on the paddock y/n ❤️

yourusername glad to be back !

user57 they are so stiff

user58 they are trying to trick us into thinking they arent dating

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff, and 982,193 others

yourusername all the good in my life

tagged: danielricciardo, yourbff

view all 21,283 comments

user64 SHE LOOKS SOOO HAPPY

ynupdates her smile 😭😭😭

yourbff the way you're glowing

liked by yourusername

danielricciardo i love you

yoursername i love u too 🥹🫶

user65 ill never recover

user66 the new f1 it couple

user67 best wag of all time

user68 cant wait to buy all of y/n's new collection

user69 literally same it looks soo cool

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 1,284,083 others

danielricciardo i won

tagged: yourusername

view all 34,838 comments

ynupdates omg she is so hot what the hell

danielricciardo you're telling me

user70 OH MY GODDD

user71 her in daniel's car oh myyyy

yourusername wow

yourusername i love u fr

danielricciardo ❤️

maxverstappen1 you're welcome everyone

danielricciardo you do not get credit for this

maxverstappen1 i feel like i do

yourbff absolutely not

yourusername thanks for giving us your blessing max

maxverstappen1 🥰

user72 this feels like closure

THE END 🤍

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #mv1 fic #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv #maddie's smau

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rxmqnova · 5 months

Text

Misunderstanding

NO ONE'S POV "Natty, no" Y/N whines, holding her girlfriend tightly and not wanting to let go of her.

"Baby, we're doing this almost every morning" Natasha sighs, trying to peel Y/N off of herself. She wants to go for a run, but Y/N just doesn't want to let her.

"Why can't you just skip one time, cuddle with us and then have breakfast with us?" Y/N asks, a sigh escaping her lips when Natasha gets out of her hold.

"I will cuddle with you two after my run, I promise. I'll see you soon" The redhead smiles, pecking Y/N's lips, then walking over to the other side of the bed and kissing still sleeping Wanda's forehead.

And she's gone, making Y/N let out a little groan, so she cuddles up to Wanda, the witch unconsciously wrapping her arms around her immediately.

After a while of cuddling and waking Wanda up, the two change from their pajamas and make their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Pancakes?" Wanda suggests, knowing her girlfriend never says no to that, smiling when Y/N nods eagerly.

Wanda gets into making pancakes immediately, Y/N trying to help her as best as she can and soon the breakfast is ready, so they sit down and get into eating.

Though Y/N suddenly starts looking at Wanda, deep in her thoughts, thinking about a conversation she had with Wanda yesterday while chewing on a piece of pancake.

"You should dye it" Y/N says all of a sudden, her full mouth making it all sound differently.

Wanda's been thinking about dying her hair red. She knows Y/N has a thing for redheads and she kinda wants some change as well.

Although Y/N's sentence sounded more like 'you should diet', making Wanda just stare at her girlfriend, wondering if she's serious or not.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/N furrows her brows in confusion when Wanda sends her a glare.

But that question makes Wanda even more angry and hurt, so she just stands up and leaves without a word.

"Wanda, what's wrong? Come back!" Y/N calls after her girlfriend completely confused, wondering what in the world has just happened that it made her girlfriend upset. "Did I say anything wrong?" She asks herself.

———

Ever since this morning, Wanda's been avoiding Y/N which is hard for both of them and Y/N's still completely confused about what she did wrong.

"Hey, do you know what's up with Wanda? She's acting weird" Natasha sighs, flopping down on the couch next to Y/N who's watching a movie right now.

"I have no idea. She's mad ever since I told her she should dye her hair this morning. I mean… she's wanted to dye her hair, so I don't know what's gotten into her" Y/N sighs, resting her head on Natasha's shoulder.

"I'm gonna go talk to her" Natasha decides, pecking Y/N's lips with a kiss before standing up.

"Can you ask her if she wants to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show with me? I know it's her favorite and I feel like watching it" Y/N asks. She feels bad that Wanda's avoiding her for whatever reason and this might make it up at least a little bit.

"Sure, I'll ask her" Natasha shoots her girlfriend a quick smile before turning around, ready to walk away.

"And you come watch too! You promised me cuddles this morning!" Y/N calls after the redhead, making Natasha chuckle.

"Sure, детка!" Natasha calls back on which Y/N smiles and gets into looking for Wanda's favorite episode of the sitcom. (baby)

While Y/N's busy with finding the right episode, Natasha just stepped into her shared room with Wanda and Y/N, finding Wanda sitting on the bed and reading a book.

"Hey, Y/N's asking if you want to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show with her?" Natasha starts, taking a seat on the bed next to her girlfriend.

"I do not. And you can tell her she's sleeping on the couch tonight" Wanda answers coldly, not taking her eyes off of the book.

"Oh… What did she do?" Natasha asks, confusion written all over her face.

"She was being mean this morning. She told me I should diet" Wanda simply answers.

"Diet? She told me you got mad when she told you to dye your hair" Natasha explains.

"She never said anything about hair. She just said 'you should diet'" Wanda reasons, her eyebrows also furrowing in confusion.

"Why don't we just ask her then?" Natasha suggests, standing up and holding her hand out for Wanda who groans and accepts her girlfriend's hand, following her to the living room.

"Oh, you're here. I found Wanda's favorite episode" Y/N smiles at both her girlfriends, her eyebrows furrowing when she notices the expressions on both girls' faces. "What's wrong?"

"Y/N, did you tell Wanda she should diet this morning?" Natasha asks, breaking the akward silence as Wanda hasn't been doing anything but glaring at the girl on the couch.

"What? I never said that. Why would I tell her that?" Y/N looks at the redhead confused.

"You did! You said 'you should diet' when we were having breakfast" Wanda scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I never said that! I told you to dye your hair and then you got mad and went away! I never said anything about a diet!" Y/N defends herself, also crossing her arms over her chest.

"…. Honey, you were talking with full mouth again, weren't you?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, assuming she found the issue.

"No?… Okay, maybe" Y/N admits, knowing this bad habit she has ever since she was just a little girl.

"See, mystery is solved" Natasha sighs in relief, hoping the two will be okay again and she can peacefully watch TV with both of them.

"… Were you really talking about my hair?" Wanda asks after a while of thinking, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie which she does every time she's nervous.

"Yeah. I think red hair would suit you" Y/N smiles, standing up and walking to the brunette, taking Wanda's hands in hers. "Wands, I love everything about you and I'd never want to make you feel insecure about your body or anything. I love every single thing about you"

"… I'm sorry. It just sounded differently and I got so mad and-"

"Hey, it's okay. How about the three of us just snuggle up on the couch and watch your favorite episode of your favorite sitcom?" Y/N suggests, holding one hand for Natasha so she would join them.

"Well, but that sounds like a great plan" Wanda smiles, leaning in and pecking Y/N's lips with a kiss. "I love you"

"I love you too… both of you"

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

WandaNat masterlist

Masterlist

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an-idyllic-novelist · 4 months

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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.

Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.

If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)

Reblog to support content creators!

Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.

Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way.

So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around.

Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you.

You, who believed in Charlie’s work.

You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.

You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it.

He lost the ability to feel anything years ago.

Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others.

You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much.

In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner. They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk.

When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess.

Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do.

Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day.

When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out.

He saw you cook finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands.

He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War.

Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit.

A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day.

Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it.

Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake whiny bitch.

As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that.

And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.

It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong.

One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel.

Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them.

Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore.

Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no.

That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle.

THUD.

Shnk.

THUD.

C-crack.

THUD.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!”

“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other.

He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army. When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck.

He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around scratching, kicking, and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.

The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off him and inhaling deep gulps of precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands.

“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting.

Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right.

“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character.

You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked.

“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”

“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.

“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.

“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”

“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”

“Yes.”

“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”

“Yes.”

“Food for plants.”

“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones.

Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin.

“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?”

Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?

You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of you, quick work was made with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts.

You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too.

Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass.

Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it.

Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards.

They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.

You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be.

“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone.

“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest.

“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.”

Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right. “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering.

He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse.

Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck.

He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”

Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit.

You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”

Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.

“What-”

“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there?

So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below, your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.

You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places.

It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his.

He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.”

A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”

You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.

“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”

You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”

“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special.

You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight.

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”

You faltered. “But -”

“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.

Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking.

But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight.

As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms.

“Husk?”

“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass.

“Thank you…for everything.”

His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome."

He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory?

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens.

What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter.

Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin spoilers #viviziepop #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw violence #tw violence #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #cw language #tw language #violet evergarden!reader #fem!reader #character!reader

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mixsethaddams · 1 year

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Steve was having a really bad day.

He forgot to pass on a message to a co-worker which, ok, wasn’t the end of the world exactly, but it made his insides squirm.

He forgot to write a list for his boss which, again, nothing that couldn’t be rectified, but it made his palms itch.

A customer yelled at him over something out of his control and he had to stand there and take it because what is retail if not the first circle of hell.

Steve sat in the break room and wished his coffee was hotter while he ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s just one of those days,” he told himself over and over. “It’ll be over soon,”

He wasn’t working the next day so he was counting down the very seconds until he could dart out the front door and not have to come back for a whole forty hours.

Things didn’t improve after he swallowed his lukewarm coffee and went back to his duties. Everything he said seemed to land wrong. Everything he did seemed to need redoing. It felt like his co-workers were annoyed with him even though he knew that realistically they had no reason to be. Steve’s jaw was sore from clenching it shut, trying not to burst into tears right there in the store and hold it together at least until he got to his car.

Even staying an extra fifteen minutes after he should have left to help someone finish a task they were struggling ended up being the wrong thing to do. Why did he stay? Had he clocked out? He should have. Did he not know that overtime needed to be approved a day in advance?

Steve let the feeling of the latest failure of the day wash over him as he grabbed his things and left after his shift.

Eddie wasn’t even going to be home when he got back. He was running a campaign for his D&D group which was being hosted in Gareth’s place a full fucking two hour’s drive away. Eddie was just going to be staying the night there and coming back tomorrow, instead of driving home when they finished. It made sense. It was going to be a ten-hour session and they didn’t even start until almost noon. It was just something that happened every other week and Steve usually enjoyed having a few hours to himself but today he would have killed to have his boyfriend waiting for him.

Steve’s lip wobbled while he drove. His eyes were misty and he was blinking rapidly to keep them clear. He was determined to get home before fully breaking down. He just wanted to order dinner, wrap himself up in every blanket he could find, and watch the latest episode of Married At First Sight. When he finally got back to their apartment, his phone pinged with a text from Eddie.

“Hope work was ok! I’ll call you before I go to sleep later? We’ve got about four hours left”

Steve sighed at the screen. Eddie always called him to say goodnight when he stayed at Gareth’s. Usually Steve loved it because Eddie would be a little bit drunk after having some post-session beers with his friend and they’d giggle together on a video call until Eddie’s eyelids drooped. Tonight though Steve wasn’t sure he could handle the reminder that he was alone when he wanted so badly to be held.

“Long day. Probably just crash soon as I’m home”

“You good?”

“Just tired. Hope you’re having fun :) “

Steve regretted the food he ordered for dinner. He wanted the orange chicken but for some reason he ordered sweet and sour pork. It wasn’t bad, it was fine, but the chicken was his favourite and it almost felt like a form of punishment for his bad day. So now Steve was crying uncontrollably over a container of rice. He felt so stupid but it was just one more thing that had gone wrong for him today. Crying at this point didn’t even feel cathartic. It just gave him a headache and made his throat dry.

He didn’t finish his food, and he didn’t watch TV. Steve dragged himself to his bedroom, leaving his clothes in a pile in front of the dresser he grabbed his sweatpants from, before he took a pill for his headache and fell, unshowered, into bed. It was still bright outside.

Steve felt the bed dip next to him. For the briefest moment a kind of raw panic gripped his chest and he was too scared to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar brush of fingertips over his temple, sweeping strands of hair out of his face, that he calmed down.

“Stevie?”

Eddie whispered it softly and Steve opened his eyes. The room was dark, but there was a navy blue hue, like the sun was only barely below the horizon, that meant Steve could still see Eddie’s outline.

“What time is it?” mumbled Steve.

“Almost nine,” said Eddie gently, still rubbing his hand through Steve’s hair.

Steve scrunched his nose. Nine? That wasn’t right? It wasn’t bright enough to be morning. He peered up at his alarm clock, still flashing the same date it had been when he closed his eyes before fitful sleep.

Steve sat up quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked again. “Why are you here, what happened?”

Steve knew Eddie’s D&D sessions never cut short for anything less than a national emergency so he was instantly on high alert. Eddie driving all the way home was even more concerning. Steve gripped Eddie’s arms, he was still wearing his leather jacket. It was cold from being outside. He lifted the edges of the jacket as if he was checking to make sure Eddie was all in one piece.

“Nothing happened,” soothed Eddie. “We just finished up early,”

Steve was still looking over Eddie’s body like he was expecting to find a missing limb or something.

“What?” asked Steve, confused. “Why?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Wasn’t feeling the vibe,” he said easily. “I plugged the plug and said I needed to get home,”

“You never finish early,” said Steve. “And you never drive home. What happened?”

Eddie sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me?” asked Eddie gently, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek.

Steve gulped.

“I don’t…” stuttered Steve. “Nothing, what do you mean?”

“Baby,” said Eddie firmly.

Steve chewed his lip to stop it trembling.

“I just had a bad day,” said Steve quietly. “You didn’t need… You could have stayed out there,”

Eddie gently pulled Steve forward, so he could rest his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Steve breathed in the well-known smell of cologne and cigarettes smoked outside. He practically melted into it.

“Thought this might be where I was needed more,” murmured Eddie, twisting around on the edge of the bed to allow Steve to relax more comfortably into his hiding place. “Looks like I was right, hmm?”

“Ruined your game though,” said Steve, muffled against the leather of Eddie’s jacket. “I just had a bad day,”

“It’s not ruined,” assured Eddie as Steve’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Knowing I left you here by yourself after a bad day is what would have ruined it,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” sighed Steve. Eddie was running a comforting hand over his back.

“You didn’t need to,” said Eddie. “Soon as you didn’t ask for a more solid time to expect me to call you, that’s when I knew,”

Steve sniffed back a tear.

“So dumb…” said Steve, frustrated almost more than ever with himself now. “I’m sorry, this is so fucking dumb,”

Eddie shushed him gently.

“No it’s not,” said Eddie, nuzzling into Steve’s hair. “Sometimes things creep up on you like this. It happens,”

“I wish it didn’t,” admitted Steve, pulling back to look at Eddie.

Eddie rested their foreheads together.

“I’m always here for when it does, though,” said Eddie softly.

Steve closed his eyes and let Eddie take him into another embrace, holding him tight for what could have been seconds or hours.

Steve didn’t remember when Eddie finally slipped his jacket off. He didn’t remember feeling him sliding into bed next to him, gathering him up and holding him as close as he could. Steve just remembered the feeling of Eddie heartbeat against his own chest, the sound of his breathing, his fingertips scratching gently against Steve’s scalp.

All Steve knew was feeling safe. Protected. Like one bad day was no longer drowning him because now, he remembered how to keep his head above water.

#steddie #my writing #seth writes #steve x eddie #why yes i did have a bad day and project it onto steve harrington

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mizgnomer · 14 days

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Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part Five

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook’s Star Beast Set Visit in DWM 597:

Tonight, in London’s famous Camden Market, David will be taking the Fourteenth Doctor’s first, not-so-tentative steps into the big, wide world – shooting the pre-title sequence for Special 1, The Star Beast. Although, right now he’s sheltering inside Modfather (‘VINTAGE STYLE, MODERN LIFE,’ says a sign in the outfitters’ window), to evade the glare of the cameraphones. In his new Doctor Who costume – plaid brown suit, white shirt and knitted silver tie, with a dark blue Shetland tweed coat – David doesn’t look at all out of place here. In October 2022, a mere 12 years, 9 months and 22 days after his last regular appearance in Doctor Who – as the Tenth Doctor, in The End of Time – David Tennant returned to the show. We’d never seen a Doctor regenerate into a former body before. For context, classic Who fans: David turning up in the dying moments of The Power of the Doctor is a bit like if Peter Davison had regenerated into Patrick Troughton’s Sixth Doctor at the end of Time-Flight, in 1982. Which he didn’t. Though, while we’re on the subject… David remembers watching Troughton return in the ’80s, for the odd one-off: “That felt like a man from pre-history turning up, to me in 1983, because I was just – what? – 12 years old,” he says of 20th Anniversary Special The Five Doctors. “But I bet it felt like yesterday for Patrick Troughton.” Forty years on, David can relate: “It’s like when people tell me – in fact, people on this set, working on this show, have come up to me this past week and gone – ‘I loved watching you as a kid.’ I’m like, … you were a kid? What, no! To me, it was a blink of an eye ago. To them… I’m pre-history!” But now he’s the present, too.

A huge THANK YOU to everyone who posted set photos, including Modfather on Instagram

Additional parts of this set are in the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

#david tennant #catherine tate #doctor who #rtdedit #star beast #modfather #no this is not an advertisement post for a clothing store #honest #these photos are cool though!#as are the people in them #yasmin finney #karl collins #rachel talalay #tom kingsley #whoBtsBeast #whoBts #stuff i posted #doctor who 60th anniversary #dw 60th

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pyxaperson · 9 months

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Final post about Adventure Time/Fionna and Cake for tonight, but I was rewatching episode 5 and I noticed that during the scene where Fionna, Cake and Simon are eating dinner with farm-world Finn and his family - Simon quite clearly doesn’t eat during the scene.

I didn’t really notice on my first viewing as we don’t really see any of them eat except for Fionna and Cake, but it’s still implied that they did. We see everyone around the table has bowls towards the end of Dinner except for Simon.

(Note: Cake’s bowl is not present because it’s in her hand. Fionna’s is possibly covered by Simon’s head. Jay, Bonnie and Finn don’t have bowls because Jay moved them to the sink)

This is especially odd considering that he was given a bowl before dinner started.

Now this could just be an animation error (it most likely is tbh), but it got me thinking about how Ice King’s weight changes throughout the series as his eating is heavily reliant on his mood.

It then reminded me that throughout the 6 episodes we have so far, Simon has only eaten one meal. That is the cereal he had for breakfast in episode 2.

Besides that, the only other time that he would have consumed something full-filling would be the coffee he makes in the same episode, but he doesn’t even finish that. In every other instance, he is seen a majority of the time drinking alcohol.

The lack of eating would be fine for the most part since it could just be summed up to cartoon logic, but we have also seen many instances of Fionna and Cake consuming full-filling foods and drinks (hot chocolates, sandwiches, soups etc.).

All of this made me realise that Ice King’s eating habits might not just be an Ice King thing, but something that originated from Simon. Idk.

#fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake #adventure time #at #simon petrikov #tw: ed #it's not mentioned but i thought to include it since it does dwell on those lines #if this needs to be tagged some more lmk #anyway i am going to bed now

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 3 months

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Dad's Best Friend ft. Kishibe

dbf!Kishibe who's been your father's bff for over 25 years and loves you more than anything in the world: Coddles and shows you a gross amount of affection, like you're not a whole grown ass woman. Let's you plop in his lap evertime he comes over for a drink, ignoring your father's taunts bout your neediness. Dark eyes glued the tv, absentmindely rubbing circles on your back as you nuzzle into his neck. Ignorant to the sheer will it takes you not grind onto his soft cock. "Okay there, sweets? You keep squirming.. Won me ta hold you closer?" You nod, warmth spreading through your body when Kishibe tightens his embrace.

dbf!Kishibe isn't big on conversation but thinks it's adorable how you ramble on about any and everything to him: Just random shit. From your favorite celeb gossip to simple girl talk, you keep his attention for hours. Only his girl can get him caught up on the most recent trash reality tv shows that he never intends to watch. Unless you ask him to of course. Kishibe lends a honest ear, asks questions, and provides commentary when needed. "Baby, I can't be the only person you got to talk to right now. Its 2am. Know I have work early in the mornin." He groans from his end of the phone. "Yeah, but I haven't seen you inna few days. I miss youuu. Wanna hear your voice." Kishibe sighs. He knows that's only a half truth. Also knows he won't be gettin off the phone anytime soon. "That right? Think you just wanna tell me what happened on the next episode of.. What was it?" He teases. "It's called Baddies! See? You never listen!" Kishibe rolls his eyes. "Uh huh. That must be why you on my line right now. tsk. Go on and tell me what happened on ya lil show before I go to sleep on yo ass." "Okay, okay! Geez.."

dbf!Kishibe has always treated you like his princess, but you're older now, and very aware of his Queen treatment: All begins when he notices you real down for a few days. Doesnt wanna pry so he starts wakin you up to compliments and affirmations through text. Even as a man of few words, he thinks it's important you know how smart, kind and pretty you are. You're worth simply can't be measured to Kishibe, and he needs you to understand that. Doesn't care if your dad's around or who hears how special he thinks you are. "Fuckin aced my exam!" You exclaim one late afternoon, slidin through the kitchen after gettin back from uni. Kishibe and your father wait for you, posted at the breakfast bar. Kishibe arms squeeze tight inna hug while your dad opts for high five and small tickle to your side. "So fantastic, sweetheart! Knew you could do it. Always been too smart for your own good." Kishibe chuckles at your pout. "Know what? Let's go out. We gotta celebrate our girls milestone." But your dad scoffs. "Milestone? It's just a test, Kish. She takes em all time." "Dad, it's not just a test. I studied hard as hell for this one. It's a large chunk of my grade." Kishibe slings an arm round your shoulders, holdin up your exam papers before chiming in again. "Come on, old man. She passed with flying colors. Our girl could be a doctor or some shit. Never know. I say she deserves some special treatment." "Then you take her. Work drained all this old man's energy. I'm goin to sleep. Great job again, y/n. Proud of you." With a kiss to your forehead, he's off to bed. Kishibe doesn't let you wallow though. Pulls you in close to whisper in your ear. "Three's a crowd anyway, sweet thing. Go put on somethin black and tiny. Let's go do somethin fun tonight."

dbf!Kishibe only pretends to be oblivious to your little crush on him: He doesn't mind his gorgeous girl's longing stares or subtle flirting. Teases the fuck out you by purposefully acting clueless. Wants to see how far you'll go with your little infatuation. And it's a full time job. So Kishibe finds any reason to sleep over whenever he can. "Babygirl?" He calls for you naked and wet through the cracked bathroom door. "Bring me my towel, please. Left it on the bed." You comply, not realizing the treat you're in store for. Jaw dropping seeing his pretty dick for the first time. It's not hard but it's still so thick. A nice medium toned flesh colored shaft, mushroom tip dark pink and flaring wide. Its fuckin perfect. "H-here.. Here you go." "Thanks." Kishibe takes the towel, sexy grin appearin how your gaze never wavers from his cock. He's startin to stiffen- and drip more than water from your lusty stare . "Careful, honey. You're wakin the beast. Can't do that when your dad's around."

dbf!Kishibe loves to spoil you rotten: Takes you shoppin, gets your nails and hair done, puts gas in you car. Whatever you desire is at your finger tips. All you gotta do is flutter your lashes and pout your full lips and Kishibe is bending to your every will: "The fuck you need this for?" His words a nasty growl when you interrupt him workin on your dad's car to shove your phone into his face and show him a skimpy lavender lingerie set. "Thought you said pretty girls deserve pretty things." You whine, stomping your foot when Kishibe scoffs and bends under the hood to resume his task. "I'm not buyin that shit for you to show some lil fuck boy in your class, y/n." How dare he! You were absolutely repulsed by your first taste of fuck boy and only have eyes for him. "Not for anyone, Kishi. Just thought it would look good on me. Don't you?" He glances up, eyes raking over every inch of you. Fuck yeah, he does. Plus, Kishibe just can't take the soft vulnerable face you put on once he meets your gaze. Or the thought of that flimsy scrap of lace wrapped round your frame. "Fine, y/n." He takes his wallet out and tosses it to you. "You better get one in my favorite color- nah. Scratch that. Get one of each. And do same day shipping. I want a picture of it on you by tonight."

dbf!Kishibe does random pop ups when your left home alone for extended amounts of time: Knows your father works hard and promises to take good care of their little girl when he's away. Though this time, you don't expect him anytime soon since Kishibe texts he'll be comin by late tonight. When he finally does arrive, his idea of surprising you with your favorite dish doesn't quite go as planned. He let's himself in with the spare key and tip toes to your room but your not there. After a quick search, he finds you in the guest room and is stunned into silence. You're tangled in the sheets on your hands and knees, hardly covered in that damn pastel purple scrap of lace, slowly fuckin your puffy chocolate puss with a pink dildo. Clearly you hadn't washed the covers from Kishibe's overnight stay the way you inhale them, arch deepening and puttin your most delicate areas on display to his greedy gaze. The little show you put on has his girth raging stiff for you in record time. "Uhn! Oh, Kishibeee! Uhh, uhh, uhh! Stuff me till I can't take it. Need your fat cock to ruin me, Kishi!" His ears burn hot listening to you as he stares intently between your beautiful brown thighs, mouth watering for a taste. Swollen cock won't stop twitchin, precum already drippin in anticipation. "Yeees! Feed this pussy that dick, give it to me! So fuckin wet for you, know it'll slide right in." Your brows pinch, nose scrunching as you fuck yourself a bit quicker. Little puss drooling from the stretch, squelching loud from the swift pumps. "Wish you were here.. Ahh! Don't wanna -mmm- wait anymore. Want you to h-hold me down.. Fuck me like onahole, Daddy!" The fuck?! Kishibe groans quietly at your slutty pleas. Fuck, you're askin for it. His dick throbs widly from how feral you're behaving, even though the dildo's barely half way in. "Ohfuh- Kishibe!Fuckfuckfuck! 'S so big, splitting me in half! Fill me up just like that.. Haah, so close! Gonna cum so much, Kishi!" Kishibe's mouth drops open, grip on your dinner involuntarily loosening a bit as his groin pulses intensely. He's stuck frozen in place, totally entranced, ready to burst at the seams from the erotic visual. "Yeees.. Oh God, gonna wet up that big dick.. F-fuck me, Kishi! Fuck this pussy till I cum, make it yours Daddy! Ohmy- cummiiing! So good! Haahshit! Feels so fuckin goood!" Witnessing you gush all over your toy and sheets is his demise. Kishibe's gotta bite his bottom lip to muffle his grunts as he nuts. Pent up cock spurting cum like a fire hose as he watches you shiver, swearin and callin out to him while you fuck yourself into overstimulation.

dbf!Kishibe can't stop his dick from chubbin when your in his presence anymore, so he spends less time with you: It's always been a challenge to look and not touch but how can he do that when he hears your beautiful filthy fuckin sobs of his name ringin in his ears 24/7? The image of you cummin ingrained in his mind so fiercely, he's officially rubbed his dick raw. Thinks his hiatus will save you before he does somethin he can't take back. But then you show up on Kishibe's doorstep, hair inna messy bun, dressed in one of his old hoodies and the tiniest pair of jean shorts he's ever seen. Pretty y/e/c eyes rimmed red and teary as you yell at him for ghosting you. "..so what, replace me that fast? Can't answer my calls or texts? At least coulda responded to my fuckin email- I begged you to tell me what I did wrong! You're a fuckin piece of shit, Kishibe!" You tire yourself shoutin and bangin on his chiseled chest. End up right back in his lap, on his couch this time as he tries to console you. "I know sweetheart, I'ma fuckin jerk. Asshole like me don't deserve a perfect girl like you. Didn't do anything to me. How could you? Ain't nothin a sweet thing like you could do to push me away, you know that. Its.. It's all my fault." "Then why, Kish? Why'd you leave me? Told me.. Told me I'm you're favorite girl, that you'd always be here for me. So why can't you just tell me what's goin on? I don't get it.. Or at least my dad. He's your best friend." Kishibe sighs, shakin his head. "Yeah, I know that. But how in the hell do I tell my best bud that I watched our girl fuck her own brains out while screamin for me to use her like a onahole? Hmm? And that I actually almost did. Was two seconds from pushin your head into the sheets so I could breed that inexperienced lil pussy all night long." You tense on his muscled thigh for the briefest of moments. "Had to stay away, y/n. I went too far.." The fuck he did. Didn't go far enough. And how could you not realize he saw the lewd display? Even with pretendin to arrive a good while after, he couldn't take his gaze from you the entire evening. Finally.. At last it feels like your advances are gettin you somewhere. "And?" You stand up, lookin down on his fine ass. "And? Wha- ... Fuck you mean and?" Kishibe stares up at you incredulously, tongue swipin over his bottom lip when his eyes do a swift dart to your smooth mocha thighs.

"Did you really think we'd just endlessly flirt forever? Geez Kishi.. Don't make me have to spell it out for you. Supposed to be this big strong smart devil hunter." You pull off your hoodie, revealing your bare chest. Undoin your bun, messy 30 inch waves tumble down your shoulders and back. "Y/n, baby, wait. Let's talk bout this." "Looks like you wanna do more than talk, Kish." Fuck, your right. Kishibe's so fuckin hard. Even though that should be impossible after how much he's nutted to you these past 2 weeks. But your tits are so damn pretty and he really wants to play with the cute cherry piercings dangling from your stiff dark peaks. Still, Kishibe attempts one last play at 'the good guy' when you go to push down your shorts. "Don't." It's a weak protest. "Please, babygirl. Don't do this.. I'm only a man." Your bottoms hit the floor as you giggle, pussy clenchin at his dick visibly beatin against his slacks. "And I'm a woman, Kishibe. Your woman." He groans a low "Fuck yes." fists balling when you crowd him, settin your painted toes on the edge of the couch; the angle spreadin your glistening cocoa cunt for him. "You know.. Lately, you don't listen to me very well, Kishi. And we've both know I've always been very concise about my wants and needs." Two fingers creep to move in and out of your hot lil snatch, free hand fisting at his short blonde tips as you effortlessly fall into a slow deep rythym. "So I need- mmm.. Need you to listen like you used to.. You can do that for me, yeah?" Kishibe's dying to replace his digits with yours. Swallows hard watchin you scissor your fingers before strokin your coochie a bit quicker. The generous amount of slick provides a nice wet plap plap to fill the air. "But you hear me now, right Daddy?" Fuck it! He can't fight against it anymore. Lips dam near teleportin round your poundin clit, eyes closing in bliss as he nods and nurses your sensitive nub. "Kishibe!" His big hands grab your ass and hold you against his incessant mouth, dick ready to buss from your shrieks and the taste of your creamy cookie. Yeah, Kishibe hears you all alright.

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asdfghjklmals · 1 year

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NETFLIX & BETRAYALS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 0.8k words. TAGS: boyfriend!gojo, satoru gojo x fem!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend betrays satoru and watches an episode of the show they were watching together without him. AUTHOR'S NOTE: in celebration of bridgerton's queen charlotte premiere. i cried ugly tears and then an idea popped up in my head. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“babe? i’m home!” satoru called out to you in the living room from the foyer.

you were spooked by your boyfriend’s voice. he wasn’t supposed to be home from his mission until half past seven. you quickly turned off the television and sprinted to your lover’s side.

“hi, honey!” you chuckled apprehensively, brushing his arms up and down with your hand. “how was work?”

“they assigned me a grade 2 curse because no other sorcerers were available. it was a piece of cake.” he squinted his eyes at you, suspicious of what you were doing before he teleported into the apartment.

you tried to keep the conversation going, “i thought you weren’t gonna be home until 7:30pm? if i knew you were coming home early, i would’ve started dinner.”

“babe, it was a grade 2. my presence alone was enough to exorcise that tiny thing.” that satoru gojo, he was so cocky and full of himself. as he should be, he was the strongest after all.

“what were you doing just barely?” he questioned you with suspecting eyes. “oh, just watching some random show on tv.” you nervously laughed, scratching the back of your head. “okay, cool. mind giving me the remote?” satoru reached for the remote in your hand as you backed away from him.

“why don’t you order us some dinner first? then we can watch our show together.” you avoided his eye contact, you were a horrible liar and he could see right through you. you always joked that it was a benefit to having the six eyes, when in reality, he just knew you too well. he was the type of boyfriend to know when you were awake just by the sound of your breathing.

your current tv show that you and your boyfriend were watching together was the latest season of bridgerton. you and satoru were avid fans of the show and watched every season together. your favorite season was season 1, but he didn't need to know that. unfortunately, last night ended on a cliffhanger and satoru had to wake up early for work, so you couldn’t watch another episode together. you may or may not have started the next episode without him… you just had to find out why king george was acting the way he was!

satoru stood in front of you and grabbed the remote from your hand. you didn’t even try to fight him. his cursed energy well overpowered yours and you knew you wouldn't be able to get through his infinity. you gulped as he turned on the TV.

“i knew it!” he shrieked, “you started another episode without me!” he was so dramatic. it was like you went to sushi go without him, or if you went to his favorite kikufuku shop without him, it was the end of the world in his beautiful, cerulean blue eyes.

you stepped forward, “babe, i had to know why—”

“nuh uh. i’m pissed at you.” he frowned and folded his arms. you peered at him with puppy dog eyes and continued to slowly creep towards him. he pouted his lips and turned his face away from you. you placed both your hands on his shoulders, shifting them to cradle both sides of his neck.

“i’m sorry, satoru.” you tip-toed to kiss his cheek as he refused to look at you. you continued your assault of kisses on his cheek, down his jawline, and towards his neck until gojo pushed your hands away from him.

“okay, okay. i forgive you,” he rolled his eyes. he couldn’t stay mad at you for more than a minute. “but, because you betrayed me, you’re treating for dinner tonight.” you felt that it was a fair punishment. you smiled at him and he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. he rested his head on your shoulders.

“sushi go take out?” you suggested.

you felt his laugh vibrate your whole body.

“yes, lady gojo, that would be quite splendid,” as gojo recited in a fake (but horrible) british accent.

EXTRA:

you and satoru binged the entire new season of bridgerton tonight after finishing your take out dinner from sushi go. you were both bundled up in a cozy throw blanket on the couch, legs intertwined, gojo’s arm around your shoulders pulling you close.

“by the way, satoru…”

“hmmm?” he squeezed you, kissing the side of your head, peering down to look at his tired lover.

“i know you watched the last season of love is blind without me.”

“i did not! i would never betray you like you did to me today.” he said defensively, clutching his chest in (fake) shock. he was also a horrible liar. how could two people so bad at lying be together?

“oh, i know you did, baby. megumi told me that you were using his profile so i couldn’t see the watch history on ours.”

“that’s it, i’m changing the netflix password.”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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Hypothetical AI election disinformation risks vs real AI harms

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (Feb 27) in Portland at Powell's. Then, onto Phoenix (Changing Hands, Feb 29), Tucson (Mar 9-12), and more!

You can barely turn around these days without encountering a think-piece warning of the impending risk of AI disinformation in the coming elections. But a recent episode of This Machine Kills podcast reminds us that these are hypothetical risks, and there is no shortage of real AI harms:

https://soundcloud.com/thismachinekillspod/311-selling-pickaxes-for-the-ai-gold-rush

The algorithmic decision-making systems that increasingly run the back-ends to our lives are really, truly very bad at doing their jobs, and worse, these systems constitute a form of "empiricism-washing": if the computer says it's true, it must be true. There's no such thing as racist math, you SJW snowflake!

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2019/02/aoc-algorithms-racist-bias.html

Nearly 1,000 British postmasters were wrongly convicted of fraud by Horizon, the faulty AI fraud-hunting system that Fujitsu provided to the Royal Mail. They had their lives ruined by this faulty AI, many went to prison, and at least four of the AI's victims killed themselves:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Post_Office_scandal

Tenants across America have seen their rents skyrocket thanks to Realpage's landlord price-fixing algorithm, which deployed the time-honored defense: "It's not a crime if we commit it with an app":

https://www.propublica.org/article/doj-backs-tenants-price-fixing-case-big-landlords-real-estate-tech

Housing, you'll recall, is pretty foundational in the human hierarchy of needs. Losing your home – or being forced to choose between paying rent or buying groceries or gas for your car or clothes for your kid – is a non-hypothetical, widespread, urgent problem that can be traced straight to AI.

Then there's predictive policing: cities across America and the world have bought systems that purport to tell the cops where to look for crime. Of course, these systems are trained on policing data from forces that are seeking to correct racial bias in their practices by using an algorithm to create "fairness." You feed this algorithm a data-set of where the police had detected crime in previous years, and it predicts where you'll find crime in the years to come.

But you only find crime where you look for it. If the cops only ever stop-and-frisk Black and brown kids, or pull over Black and brown drivers, then every knife, baggie or gun they find in someone's trunk or pockets will be found in a Black or brown person's trunk or pocket. A predictive policing algorithm will naively ingest this data and confidently assert that future crimes can be foiled by looking for more Black and brown people and searching them and pulling them over.

Obviously, this is bad for Black and brown people in low-income neighborhoods, whose baseline risk of an encounter with a cop turning violent or even lethal. But it's also bad for affluent people in affluent neighborhoods – because they are underpoliced as a result of these algorithmic biases. For example, domestic abuse that occurs in full detached single-family homes is systematically underrepresented in crime data, because the majority of domestic abuse calls originate with neighbors who can hear the abuse take place through a shared wall.

But the majority of algorithmic harms are inflicted on poor, racialized and/or working class people. Even if you escape a predictive policing algorithm, a facial recognition algorithm may wrongly accuse you of a crime, and even if you were far away from the site of the crime, the cops will still arrest you, because computers don't lie:

https://www.cbsnews.com/sacramento/news/texas-macys-sunglass-hut-facial-recognition-software-wrongful-arrest-sacramento-alibi/

Trying to get a low-waged service job? Be prepared for endless, nonsensical AI "personality tests" that make Scientology look like NASA:

https://futurism.com/mandatory-ai-hiring-tests

Service workers' schedules are at the mercy of shift-allocation algorithms that assign them hours that ensure that they fall just short of qualifying for health and other benefits. These algorithms push workers into "clopening" – where you close the store after midnight and then open it again the next morning before 5AM. And if you try to unionize, another algorithm – that spies on you and your fellow workers' social media activity – targets you for reprisals and your store for closure.

If you're driving an Amazon delivery van, algorithm watches your eyeballs and tells your boss that you're a bad driver if it doesn't like what it sees. If you're working in an Amazon warehouse, an algorithm decides if you've taken too many pee-breaks and automatically dings you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

If this disgusts you and you're hoping to use your ballot to elect lawmakers who will take up your cause, an algorithm stands in your way again. "AI" tools for purging voter rolls are especially harmful to racialized people – for example, they assume that two "Juan Gomez"es with a shared birthday in two different states must be the same person and remove one or both from the voter rolls:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/eligible-voters-swept-up-conservative-activists-purge-voter-rolls/

Hoping to get a solid education, the sort that will keep you out of AI-supervised, precarious, low-waged work? Sorry, kiddo: the ed-tech system is riddled with algorithms. There's the grifty "remote invigilation" industry that watches you take tests via webcam and accuses you of cheating if your facial expressions fail its high-tech phrenology standards:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat

All of these are non-hypothetical, real risks from AI. The AI industry has proven itself incredibly adept at deflecting interest from real harms to hypothetical ones, like the "risk" that the spicy autocomplete will become conscious and take over the world in order to convert us all to paperclips:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

Whenever you hear AI bosses talking about how seriously they're taking a hypothetical risk, that's the moment when you should check in on whether they're doing anything about all these longstanding, real risks. And even as AI bosses promise to fight hypothetical election disinformation, they continue to downplay or ignore the non-hypothetical, here-and-now harms of AI.

There's something unseemly – and even perverse – about worrying so much about AI and election disinformation. It plays into the narrative that kicked off in earnest in 2016, that the reason the electorate votes for manifestly unqualified candidates who run on a platform of bald-faced lies is that they are gullible and easily led astray.

But there's another explanation: the reason people accept conspiratorial accounts of how our institutions are run is because the institutions that are supposed to be defending us are corrupt and captured by actual conspiracies:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

The party line on conspiratorial accounts is that these institutions are good, actually. Think of the rebuttal offered to anti-vaxxers who claimed that pharma giants were run by murderous sociopath billionaires who were in league with their regulators to kill us for a buck: "no, I think you'll find pharma companies are great and superbly regulated":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

Institutions are profoundly important to a high-tech society. No one is capable of assessing all the life-or-death choices we make every day, from whether to trust the firmware in your car's anti-lock brakes, the alloys used in the structural members of your home, or the food-safety standards for the meal you're about to eat. We must rely on well-regulated experts to make these calls for us, and when the institutions fail us, we are thrown into a state of epistemological chaos. We must make decisions about whether to trust these technological systems, but we can't make informed choices because the one thing we're sure of is that our institutions aren't trustworthy.

Ironically, the long list of AI harms that we live with every day are the most important contributor to disinformation campaigns. It's these harms that provide the evidence for belief in conspiratorial accounts of the world, because each one is proof that the system can't be trusted. The election disinformation discourse focuses on the lies told – and not why those lies are credible.

That's because the subtext of election disinformation concerns is usually that the electorate is credulous, fools waiting to be suckered in. By refusing to contemplate the institutional failures that sit upstream of conspiracism, we can smugly locate the blame with the peddlers of lies and assume the mantle of paternalistic protectors of the easily gulled electorate.

But the group of people who are demonstrably being tricked by AI is the people who buy the horrifically flawed AI-based algorithmic systems and put them into use despite their manifest failures.

As I've written many times, "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, but we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job"

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

The most visible victims of AI disinformation are the people who are putting AI in charge of the life-chances of millions of the rest of us. Tackle that AI disinformation and its harms, and we'll make conspiratorial claims about our institutions being corrupt far less credible.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/27/ai-conspiracies/#epistemological-collapse

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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spdrvyn · 4 months

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7 days until valentines

as compensation for my lack of posts, here's a short blurb of miguel with an autistic reader! i'm projecting really hard though

Miguel didn't know where the transition from his to 'our' workspace had begun. It was the little things, you'd leave a small cup with pens in it at his desk without bothering to pick it up after you leave his office. Eventually, that cup became a real pencil holder now you had journals, notebooks, and basically everything that wasn't work related neatly cornered into one part of his desk home with the scattered papers and unfinished gadgets Miguel has.

You also make home at his desk, efficiency was one of your strengths, but your productivity reached maximum capacity whenever you were with him. No words were spoken while the two of you worked, Miguel greatly appreciated it.

Not that he'd mind a little bit of small talk, but he enjoyed silence without feeling like the loneliness was clawing at his insides.

Though normally you (almost inhumanely) finished your work way earlier than he did, but you didn't leave. No, you didn't.

This habit of maintaining his presence while you're off doing something kept even when you were pursuing your own personal interests, Miguel would catch you on your laptop chatting to your friends whenever he had to check something on one of his monitors.

Other times, you'd have headphones on. Listening to music or catching up on one of your shows, your reactions are as muddled as they can be to not disturb. But one moment, he'll look away with you completely deadpan then look back to see your jaw widely agape and pupils blown wide from devastation.

Tonight was no different, if anything more convenient for you because a new episode of this unnamed media just dropped. Admittedly, your expressions and small noises entertained him as he worked. You did try to be discreet, but that super hearing of his could pick up on your small gasps and 'aww's on opposite sides of a workspace.

His concentration is broken when you practically slam your laptop shut, packing your earbuds into their case with an audible snap. You hop off of your place and solemnly walk over to where Miguel is standing, he quirks a brow at you.

Uncharacteristically, you slump your head against his shoulder with the biggest frown he's ever seen you in. "They're not getting back together, Miguel."

"Oh?" maybe feeding into your theatrics wasn't a smart decisions, but analytics dulled in comparison to whatever was going on inside your head. "Who?" he continued to interrogate.

"My only reason for light and happiness, my true inspiration for spreading love and joy across every corner of the multiverse." Miguel rolls his eyes. "Do not give me sass right now, I am so upset."

He genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not, perhaps a mix of both. "I don't get how I'm supposed to sympathize with this ex-couple when I don't even know the title of their story?"

"It's a cartoon. You'll laugh."

"Cartoon or animated?"

You quirk your eyebrow this time. "Huh?"

"I'm asking you, cartoon or animated? There's a difference, animated features aren't always classified as cartoons. Cartoon is more of a term for animated medias directed towards children. Aren't you the one more adept at this topic?"

He looks at you with an almost-smirk. It's teasing at his lips, full and plump. There are many sensations that you hold resentment for, but one you've always wanted experience is Miguel's lips against yours. The ultimate sensory triumph, all you've been waiting for.

God, you want to kiss him.

"Yeah, I- uh, animated. I mean, animated."

"Tell me about it when I'm not trying to keep the world from ending, please?" he grumbles, and you raise your head off of his shoulder. Damn right you'll tell him about it, and probably kiss him after too.

#projecting soo hard #yes i want to be an animation student #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #autistic reader #fluff #romance

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simpforrooster · 2 years

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i'm obsessed with you.

Bradley "Rooster Bradshaw x F!Reader

summary: Jake is sick of Rooster pining over you & takes matters into his own hands.

anon request: I have a rooster request! I’m thinking a fic where hangman asks reader to the military ball and we get a jealous rooster

t/w: mentions of alcohol, jealous!Rooster, friend!Jake, cursing.

Rooster's engrossed with the video game in front of him, only halfway paying attention to what his roommate is talking about.

"Anyway, I just thought I'd ask you," Jake finishes and Rooster realizes Jake is waiting for an answer of some kind.

Shaking his head, he says, "Yeah, man, whatever."

Surprise flickers across the blonde's face, but Rooster is right back into the video game, not bothering to probe.

Jake pulls his phone from his pocket and begins feverishly typing.

A ping comes a second later, Jake lightly pumping his fist.

Rooster holds an arm open to you later that evening at the Hard Deck. You slide right into his hold, slipping your arm around his waist. Bringing his beer bottle to his lips, he lets his other hand casually rest on your shoulder. To an outsider, they would think the two of you were dating.

Rooster hasn't had the guts to make that a reality.

He's content to let the gang make fun of him being in love with his best friend. There is no point in denying it, they all know how much he adores you.

Everyone but you, of course.

"Did he tell you?" you ask Rooster after a few pleasant moments of being in one another's arms.

"Hmm?" he asks, eyeing the game going on at the pool table. Phoenix does her best to flirt with Bob, but he's oblivious. She lines up her shot, sending Bob a wink before pulling back and making contact with the cue. The 7 ball makes its destination.

"Jake?" you probe.

Rooster still hasn't computed.

"Jake? Did he tell you he's taking me to the military ball? Where is your head tonight?" you poke him in his stomach.

Rooster's world stops. Hangman asked you to the ball?

That's what Jake was asking him this afternoon? If he could take you to the ball?

You always go to the ball with Rooster.

"Did you agree?" Rooster asks, knowing full well you did. Why else would Hangman have done that stupid little fist pump?

You shrug the shoulder against his torso, like it's no big deal. "Well, yeah. I know you and I always go together, but he told me he'd talked to you about it. You said it was fine." You're looking at him, your brows knitting together.

Of course you're confused. Hangman did talk to Rooster about it. Rooster had agreed. Because Rooster wasn't paying fucking attention.

And now he's fucking pissed.

Hangman joins the two of you. "Thanks for letting me borrow your girl." The grin he gives Rooster is dangerously close to the teasing grins he used to dish out before the two men squashed their animosity.

Rooster feels your chuckle against his body.

"We're just friends, Jake," you tell him. The blonde's eyebrow slightly raises. Rooster knows you missed it, but he sure as shit didn't.

The pain in Rooster's stomach at the word friend is almost too much to bare. Hearing that word was almost as disgusting as hearing how 'Jake' sounded coming from your pretty lips. Almost flirtatiously.

How could you be so blind to his feelings?

Was it because you liked Jake?

You and Hangman could get pretty flirty, but he usually kept it tame, keeping Rooster's feelings somewhat in mind. Hangman was a pretty touchy flirt, but he always kept his hands to himself.

Now the only thing Rooster can think about is Jake pulling you into him on the dance floor, spinning you around to the music. Or standing there, a possessive arm around your waist as he and Mav discuss the latest fucking Game of Thrones episode.

Rooster is beginning to find it quite hard to keep his anger at bay. What the fuck happened to the bro code?

Hangman watches Rooster intensely.

"What color will your dress be? I bet you're going to look so beautiful," Jake turns his attention to you, and Rooster's casual hold on you becomes tighter. More possessive. Just like Jake's hold will be at the ball.

"Oh, I haven't decided, maybe navy?" you say dreamily. You're supposed to be wearing a pretty, navy dress with Rooster, not Hangman.

The only thing keeping him going is your arm still locked around his waist.

Jake steps a little closer, his hand reaching out to take a stand of your H/C hair in between his fingers.

This does it.

Rooster snaps. "Do not touch her." He jerks you back, and your hair slips out of Hangman's hold.

You push yourself back from Rooster, taking in the men, your eyes wide.

Jake and Rooster stare one another down. Rooster takes in his 'friend,' noting the challenge behind his eyes.

"Come on, man," Hangman pushes.

Rooster feels like hitting him, but he knows the repercussions he'd have with Mav won't be worth it. Still, his hand curls in and out of a fist at his side.

One punch. Right against that perfect fucking jaw.

"Tell her," he mouths.

Confusion replaces his anger as quickly as it set in moments before.

Rooster turns toward you. You trade glances between the two men. Jake jerks his head toward you.

Words escape the man as he takes you in. The naivety across your features cause him to melt. Rooster swears you are the most adorable thing on the planet.

“I don’t want you to go the the ball with Hangman,” Rooster tells you. “I want you to go with me.”

“But—“ you begin, but Rooster cuts you off.

“Because I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

Your mouth falls open, and a sweet flush falls on your cheeks. “What?”

Rooster steps toward you, a newfound confidence coursing through his veins. He takes your face into his hands, craning your face up. He hovers his mouth over yours, pausing to relish in the fact that he has you so close. Savoring this moment as long as he can.

Before he can chicken out, he kisses you. Pulling you as close as he can before it becomes inappropriate, he deepens the kiss. You clutch his waist, gripping his t-shirt between your fingers.

When the kiss breaks, the two of you stare at one another, breathing heavy.

Hangman smacks Rooster on the back. "Atta boy! Been concocting this plan for weeks."

Jake gives the both of you a wide grin, and saunters toward the bar.

a/n: this request totally inspired me! I hope y'all like it!

masterlist

#rooster top gun #topgun #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley x reader #rooster fluff #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster #topgunmaverk #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year

Note

James corden and harry and yn pleeeeeeeaasee

The Final Late Late Show

A/N: how are you lovies?! its been a minute since I've posted but i just HAD to write about this as soon as I saw it! 💚

SUMMARY: For the final Late Late Show, YN and Harry are two of the three final guests. Here are some snippets from the final episode! (2.5k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married!ynrry, famous!reader

SINCE 2010 masterlist

“Joining us also, he’s the biggest superstar in the world. He’s a three-time Grammy winner. He’s your friend, he’s my friend. Harry Styles is here tonight!”

Harry’s dimple smile appears from the small window on the door. “Hi, mate! Man, terrible timing with this door thing, eh?...Cause it’s yeh last show.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” James dramatically sighs in frustration.

“I mean what are the chances, you know? Absolute disaster,” Harry humorously rolls his eyes with a smile. “...cause it’s yeh last show.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware that it’s my last show, Harry, thank you very much! I don’t need anybody to tell me that. Nobody knows that more than me. This is a disaster!”

“James! James!” YN steps in next to her husband and peaks through the tiny window through the door.

“YN! Oh, thank God!” The talk show host sighs in relief. “Also joining us tonight is the multi-talented mega star of the century. She’s another dear friend of mine and married to this guy right here. Everybody give it up for YN YLN-Styles!”

She gives a small wave before turning her attention back to the host. “Don't worry, James. V’got everything under control,” YN says with a confident nods of her head.

“Oh, that’s great to hear. So you’ve called security to get the doors unlocked then?”

“Umm...no.” Fans can see Harry’s lips tucked in frown, shaking his head along to his wife’s words. “But I’ve got this fire extinguisher that m’gonna use to bash in the window.”

The audience members yell and cheer excitedly as they see YN hold up the red object and ask everyone to stand back. But before she can take a swing, the voice on the intercom lets them know that the door issue has been resolved.

...

“Everyone, please give it up for the one and only, Mrs. YN YLN-Styles!”

When the curtains zip open, YN has her back to the crowd. She comically looks over her shoulder and playfully acts surprised at the screaming crowd. As she walks down the stairs, everyone is able to see her full outfit for the night. Her white skirt and top combo hug her curves in just the right places but her (and Harry’s) favorite part has to be the white stain roses that hold the slide slit of her dress in place.

She smiles and gives high fives to the audience members as she passes them by. When she gets to James’s parents in the audience, she gives them kisses on both of their cheeks. And once she’s reached the stage, she happily takes her husband’s outreached hand as he helps her up the short steps.

When the third guest of the night makes his way onto the stage, Harry puts a hand on YN’s back and shuffles them over to the corner at what’s to come. They watch as Will takes swing after swing at James’s desk with a sledgehammer, destroying it into pieces. While Harry’s face expresses one of remorse over the obliterated scene, YN puts a fist over her smile as she laughs.

...

“Then you and your former bandmate turned wife—” James presents the couple sitting next to each other on the couch with a grand hand swing of his hands as he looks out to the screaming audience. “—came on the show a few years ago as a band. Then again when Harry hosted for the first time where you, YN, were one of the featured guests for that night. And you guys even played a game of Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts.”

With the mention of the atrocious food game, James mentions how Will Ferrell loves the game so much that he specifically requested for them to play it one more time. Each guest is given their own cards with their questions on them and an obscene food concoction to eat if they do not want to answer their question.

Soon after, YN claps along with everyone else but her jaw is on the floor at the hefty scoop and bite Will takes from his nasty food arrangement despite not having to do so.

“Yeh really enjoyed that didn’t yeh?” She teases.

“It’s like Thanksgiving,” Will responds around a mouth full of bug trifles. “Alright, your turn YN.”

“Okay, mine says...” She says as she slowly gets the card out. Harry leans over to her to get a peek at the question and immediately lets out a chuckle, trying to cover it up with a cough to his fist but fails. “Uh oh. When and where did you and Harry have your first kiss together?”

The crowd goes into a frantic frenzy at the possibility of getting official confirmation of the heavily researched and hypothesized answer. She wiggles her brows in a playful manner towards her husband and it only makes him laugh harder.

She contemplates on revealing the answer, it is the last show after all...but where’s the fun in that?

“Umm...” She hides her smile behind the purple card before shrugging her shoulders. “Guess m’taking a bite out of a grasshopper.”

“I’ll do one with you,” Will generously offers, already reaching for one of the little bugs in the small bowl. They clink their grasshoppers together before plopping them past their lips. While Will happily reaches for seconds, YN puts on a strained, pained smile as she chews.

“Mmm, yummy,” She sarcastically says, making James let out one of his high-pitched laughs. She gladly takes the mug from Harry’s giving hands to rinse her mouth of the odd taste.

When Harry reads his question asking if there will be a One Direction reunion, the crowd erupts in screams once again. The couple gives each other a humorous look, absolutely eating up the way the audience goes crazy at the mention of their band.

“I think if there was a time where we all felt that that was something we wanted to do—” Harry’s interrupted by Will mocking the crowd awing and cooing at the mention of their old band. It has the two former band members giggling before he continues. “Then I don’t see why we wouldn’t.”

“YN, this question kind of goes to you as well,” James offers.

“Yeah, I mean. I totally agree with everything he said. We’re definitely not opposed to it. If it happens, it happens.”

“I’ll take that as a yes!” James exclaims. “I mean, we already have a permanent, mini reunion with the two of you being married.”

“Wait, you guys are married?” Will dramatically questions with faux confusion that makes everyone in the room laugh.

“Wait, wait, can we please get a close up of this really quick,” James frantically moves his hands as the couple holds up their hands to show their wedding rings. It’s in this moment that fans realize that the two of them aren’t wearing any of their regular set of rings across their fingers, solely the ones that signify their promise to love one another forevermore.

...

“Who’s more talented? Will Farrell, YN YLN-Styles or Harry Styles?”

There’s no forethought or second guessing with the couple’s response to immediately vouch for Will.

“Sustainable talent,” Harry points out with a sweep of his hand.

“There’s literally nothing this man can’t do,” YN compliments.

The couple breaks out in bright smiles when Will begins to sing a solemn version of As It Was. But what has YN turning into a fit of giggles, her head leaning back as she hovers her hands over her mouth is when the famous comedian begins to sing 34+35 with a strong vibrato.

It’s then Will’s turn to let out a string of giddy chuckles when James then asks the married couple to do an impression of the comedic actor.

“Ladies first,” Harry quickly says with a tap on his wife’s hand.

“Hmm...Oh okay, ‘ve out it.” YN comically clears her throat and readjusts herself on the couch. “Yeh ready for this? I’m singing. I’m in a store and I’m singing. I’m in a store, and I’m singing!”

Will doubles over in laughter, applauding along with everyone else at her spot-on impression. As The Roots plays a snippet of celebration music, YN stands from her seat and takes a grand bow.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you, YN,” Will turns his attention to the pop star next to him. When she gives an encouraging nod of her head, he continues with a professionally acted sense of genuine curiosity, “What exactly does 34+35 mean?”

While everyone else in the room breaks out into laughter, YN lifts her gaze to the ceiling as she contemplates how to explain the sexual song. She tries to hide her smile by tucking in her lips but it's really hard to keep it professional when there’s an iconic actor asking that type of question. Even Harry has his face in his hands, his shoulder bouncing as he laughs.

She clears her throat as she adjusts her skirt and places her clasped hands over her crossed legs. She goes to open her mouth to answer but instead leans over to whisper the answer in the actor’s ear with a cupped hand instead.

“So it’s not about solving a math problem?!” Will dramatically exclaims.

“Harry, what’s your impression of Will?” YN says through a laugh, playfully attempting to change the subject.

Without saying a word, Harry gets up from his seat, grabs the sledgehammer, and smashes what��s left of James’s desk. YN puts her fingers in the corner of her mouth and blows a loud whistle at the sight before them as everyone else applauds with a mixture of cheering.

When it’s time for James to answer his question, he says, “So, we’ve known each other for quite some time, haven’t we? I would even go as far as to consider you both as family.” The married couple nods their heads in agreement. “But A, I watch Elf every year on Christmas. And B, I didn’t get an invitation to your wedding so,” James gives a shrug of his shoulders as the audience goes crazy.

...

In between a commercial break, fans and crew members record the interactions happening on the main stage. While James goes over to talk with Will, everybody else focuses on the married couple.

A cheeky sound technician plays Late Night Talking as background music. They watch as the two of them mouth along to the words and cheekily dance in their seats as they get lost in their own little world.

The fans watch them with hearts in their eyes. On some parts of the song, the couple will do the same little dance moves together, speculating that they do this behind closed doors as well: rolling their arms like they’re going to hit the woah, hands up and slicing the air in front of them as they move their upper bodies, and dramatically swiveling their heads to the funky beat—every move has them end up laughing quietly to one another.

It reminds the OG fans of how the two would be on their third world tour with the band. They’re easily reminded of when the two of them would sit next to each other on the raised platforms on the humongous catwalk and get distracted from singing. They would lean into each other, talking in one another’s ears, and squeeze their eyes shut as laughter overtook them. Almost a decade later and the two still act like a couple of love-sick teenagers.

There’s even a part during the chorus where Harry gets up from his seat to move his hips with a swing of his elbow; YN does the same movements but from her sitting down position.

When the couple turns their attention to the cheering crowd, Harry points to his wife and mouths, “She produced the song!”

...

“And to add onto that,” YN places a hand on Harry’s arm after he complimented James. “I think I can speak for both of us in that we’re so grateful to have met yeh. You’ve been such a great friend to the both of us and I’m just super excited for what’s ahead of yeh.”

James pulls the both of them into a group hug from their spots on the couch and the audience laughs when Will scoots up to join the hug as well. YN can’t hold back the laugh that tumbles past her lips as the comedian reaches over her and her husband to pat James on the back.

When Will begins his mini speech to compliment the host on his hard work in the late night talk show industry, in the process he calls England a “shithole of a country.” While everyone knows he means it in a playful way and while the comment has James laughing, the married couple raise their eyebrows, purse their lips, and nod their head as they take the diss.

And while Will tries to continue what he has to say, it's not long before Harry gets up from his seat and grabs the sledgehammer.

“Hold him down, lovie,” He tells his wife who's already playfully reaching her angry fingers toward Will.

...

The Late Late music provided by The Roots mixes with the ear-piercing screams from the audience as they watch what’s happening backstage. Harry’s already sat in the photobooth’s seat and gently tugs his wife into his lap. She wraps an arm around the tops of his shoulders as they get ready for their picture to be taken. She tilts her head to touch his as he fully wraps his arms around her middle.

Right before the countdown reaches its end, his fingers dig into the ticklish part in her side and she jolts up in a laugh. Just in time, the picture captures YN’s bright, open-mouthed smile, her eyes squeezed shut and her nose cutely scrunched up; her husband’s expression matches similarly to her own.

In the end, the picture ends up in the middle of three pictures on the collaged wall: one of the band during their last Late Late interview as a four piece. YN is sitting in the middle of the group with a sly smile on her face as her long haired band mate has a hand on her shoulder. On the other side, one of Harry’s solo shots of when he first came on the show as a solo artist, and beside that one is one of YN when she came on the show when Harry hosted. At the time, her hair was barely below her ears, her naturally curly hair looked like a cloud on her head. She has one eye squinted shut, her tongue peaking out from between her teeth as she holds up a peace sign.

Looking at the pictures in front of them, they reminisce on their shared history of being on this show. The Late Late studio has seen these two back when they were merely bandmates, secretly pining over one another with so many barriers in their way. It’s seen how they came back on the show as solo artists a few years later. It was a perfectly timed occasion for the both of them as they hid their secret relationship away from the public eye with a live audience and cameras in their faces.

And now, as the last guests on the show, the studio sees the pair happily married and more in love with one another than they’ve ever been before.

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305 @tiaamberxx

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #harry styles x reader #since 2010 series #1dbandmember!yn #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #harry styles and famous reader #harry styles and you #harry styles and reader #famous!reader #famous!yn #harry styles x famous!reader

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

Text

04/03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys; Nathan; Rachel; David; Samba/BTS; Vote for OFMD on GLAAD; Watch Parties; Watch Party Polls; Pirate Experts; Uncle Ed; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

= Rhys Darby =

Looks like Rhys is taking a page from Taika's book and doing some advertising this week!

Src: Rhys' IG, Rosie's IG

= Nathan Foad =

Love's Labor Lost

Nathan will be playing Costard in Love's Labor Lost! ROYAL SHAKESPEARE THEATRE STRATFORD-UPON-AVON11 APR - 18 MAY 2024 More info!

= Rachel House =

Rachel's new movie The Mountain has been selected for the Sydney Film Festival 2024!

Src: Rachel's IG

= David Jenkins =

Chaos Dad saying what we're all thinking.

Src: David Jenkins' IG

= Samba Schutte =

More BTS from Samba! This time improvising from the Revenge crews!

Tumblr Link to the Vid / Src: Samba's IG

== Vote for OFMD on GLADD! ==

Hey crew! GLAAD is opening up Fan Favorites for their May 11th ceremony! Let's see if we can't get OFMD one of those awards! Requires an email, and it's not in the inital dropdown, you'll need to add Other.

Please Vote! Img Src: Irene Adler's IG

== Active Watch Parties ==

Taskmaster NZ Series 1 Watch Party with @saveofmdcrewmates! When: April 3-12 (W,F, Su -2 eps each) Time: 11 am PT/ 2pm ET/ 7pm BST Where to watch: YouTube, TVNZ, Channel 4

Twitter Hashtags:

#Quartermaster

#OurFlagMeansDeath

#Taskmaster

== Poll Going on for Watch Parties ==

Twitter Poll going on by @iamadequate1 regarding two questions:

Should WP start times be the same for Europe and the US?

Is it useful for each WP to have its own separate hashtag?

Please vote when you get a chance if you use twitter. Full Thread

== Pirate Experts ==

== Uncle Ed ==

Some of you may have been seeing the theme of "uncle edward" going around and if you're wondering what it is-- well look no further! @eddiepeaches had a really great post (which is where it originated), please check it out!

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's Cast Card is Abshir! Good to see Devon Stewart getting some love! Thank you @melvisik!

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

This weeks episode features an interview with Vico Ortiz!

Where to Watch: Big Gay Energy Youtube

Where to Listen: BGEPod

Big Gay Podcast Patreon!

== Love Notes ==

Evening/Morning m'dears. Hopefully today was a bit easier! We got quite a few crumbs of bts / script info today and lots and lots of Rhys which certainly raised some people's spirits.

I just wanted to send a reminder out today that lovelies, you are so much more than what others think of you. You are so much more than what you think of yourself even most days. You are such an inspiration, and you've been doing a really amazing job, even if you've had bad days. I'm sure you're tired of hearing that, but that's too bad because I'm gonna keep saying it until you get it in your beautiful brain that you are doing great. So many things are going on, and everyday, bad or good, you are getting through them. If someone was unkind to you today, I'm so sorry, and I hope they haven't made you feel too down on yourself. If they did, just know, you are a force to be reckoned with. They can be spiteful and hateful, but you are a wonderful force that keeps on kicking ass.

You deserve kindness in this world, no matter what, you hear me?

No matter what.

You're doing great, so give yourself a big ol hug for me and the rest of the crew, and know you are an absolute gem. <3 You're gonna get there, wherever you're trying to go. Keep going!

Love Notes Image Src: @ BethEvans IG.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Don't ask me what theme this is 👀

Taika Gif Courtesy of @darkinerry Darby Gif Courtesy of @wastingyourgum

#ofmd #daily ofmd recap #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recaps #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #rosie carnahan darby #save ofmd #long live ofmd #samba schutte #david jenkins #chaos dad #rachel house #nathan foad #watch party

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Text

Soft Spot

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x shy!assistant!fem!reader

Summary: When you're kidnapped and used as a pawn, Deacon sets out to find you. Once you're tied up together, he changes his goals regarding your safety, finding a soft spot in the kidnappers and himself.

Warnings: spoilers (rewrite) for SWAT episode 3x15 "Knockout"; angst to fluff

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

A/N: Deacon in a suit + Street's scene in the luxury box = one of the best episodes.

Picture from Pinterest

You have only been Gio Torres’s personal assistant for a week - since he arrived in Los Angeles - but he got attached to you quickly. Your shy demeanor and kindness toward his wife made it easy for Gio to decide he likes you.

“Where are we going?” you ask quietly.

“To meet the security team, hermana,” Gio answers, smiling as he wraps his arm around Esther.

Frowning when you think of meeting even more people, Gio takes pity on you and offers to handle the introductions.

“They don’t need to know who I am, Gio,” you remind him. “I’m just here for you and Esther.”

Gio tilts his head to the side as Esther replies, “And if they want to meet you?”

“I hope they don’t,” you mumble.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you enter the arena, a few men in suits are standing around a television displaying the building’s blueprint. You notice the one closest to the screen is attractive and immediately drop your chin as he looks toward you. Walking behind Gio, though, you don’t expect he’ll even realize you’re there. Most people don’t.

“Hey, champ,” the other man greets. “This is my business partner, David Kay. He’s managing our security team. Meet Gio Torres, reigning welterweight champion of the world, and his wife Esther.”

David shakes hands with Gio and Esther before the other man excuses himself to answer his phone.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says. “And please, call me Deacon.”

“Diacono? Like padre, priest?” Gio asks.

“No, no, it’s just a nickname.” Deacon looks to Esther to ask, “It’s your first?”

“Yes,” she replies happily.

Deacon turns toward you, extending his hand. “I didn’t catch your name.”

You shake his hand, giving him a small smile as you say your name. “I’m Gio’s assistant.”

“Nice to meet you as well, and I guess that means we’re kind of working together.”

Nodding, you’re glad when Gio draws Deacon’s attention away.

“You know, this place is so… new. We had nothing like it in Havana,” Gio explains. “One day we will.”

“Well, best of luck to you tonight,” Deacon says. “And congratulations.”

“Gracias, Padre.”

You shake your head at Gio’s nickname, smiling at Deacon again as you follow Gio and Esther out of the arena. You can feel Deacon’s eyes on you, and your neck warms at the attention.

“Someone likes padre,” Esther teases, bumping her elbow against your arm.

Rolling your eyes, you keep your head down so your giddy smile doesn’t betray your secrecy.

“Sí, claro,” Gio agrees, chuckling.

✯✯✯✯✯

Gio sent you to find Deacon, telling you he wants to give him something for his SWAT team. You don’t know how Gio learned he was a SWAT agent when he isn’t working in private security, but it’s your job to get what Gio wants, so you go. Standing to the side and waiting for him to notice you, you accidentally overhear his conversation.

“Aren’t these fights usually in Vegas?” the woman beside him asks.

“Yeah,” Deacon answers. “But Maxwell wanted to fight in his own hometown.”

“Why does the former champion get to call the shots?”

“That’s why.”

Deacon points to Jackie Shaw, who you had the displeasure of meeting this morning. He’s full of himself and has a wandering eye. He may be the biggest promoter and responsible for the biggest fight of the season, but he does not seem like a good man.

“I’m gonna make the rounds,” Deacon says, turning toward you. He stops when he sees you, smiling as he says your name.

“You remembered?”

“How could I not?”

Pressing your lips together and dropping your eyes to the floor, you say, “Gio wants to see you when you have a minute.”

“I can go now. Care to show me the way?”

Looking up, the smile on his face makes you think he knows that his actions are impacting you. When he falls into step beside you, keeping his attention on you as you walk, you realize that Esther was right; you do like him, but you’ll never be able to act on it.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Oi, Padre,” Gio greets as you lead Deacon into the room.

“I’m going to go with the driver to get Esther from the hotel,” you tell Gio.

You nod at Deacon on your way out, and the look he gives you makes you wish you could stay.

✯✯✯✯✯

You walk out of the hotel, answering an email from Jackie Shaw’s marketing team as you get in the car. Esther should be out in a moment, but the door beside you opens suddenly, and a man you don’t recognize climbs inside.

“Uh, I think you’re in the wrong car,” you tell him.

The car begins moving, and you ask the driver to go back, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. When you look out the window, the man beside you unsheathes a serrated knife, holding it up so you can see it.

“Don’t yell for help,” he demands.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon is doing his rounds again when he stops by Gio’s locker room.

“My nephews are gonna go nuts. Thank you,” Chris says, accepting a signed poster.

“De nada,” Gio replies.

Esther and one of the security guards enter the room, and Deacon looks over when Esther says your name.

“No esta aqui?” Esther asks.

“No.”

They continue speaking in Spanish, and Deacon can tell they’re distressed and concerned about something. He doesn’t like that your name is involved.

“What’s wrong?” he asks Chris.

“His assistant disappeared from the hotel. His trainer’s out looking for her.”

Someone knocks on the door, and Deacon steps in front of him. “Hey, not now. You can get a selfie later.”

“Hey, Torres, I’m supposed to deliver this to you,” the man says.

“Let me see that. Chris,” Deacon calls.

“Stand right here. Don’t move,” Chris demands, pulling the man into the room.

“There’s a voice mail.” Deacon presses play, his jaw clenched as he listens to the distorted voice.

‘We have your hermana, your assistant. Lose this fight or she dies. No cops, or your wife is next.’

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got the wrong girl!” a man yells.

You flinch at the sudden noise. Tied to a chair, blindfolded, and gagged, you have no way of knowing who the men are or what they're doing in here.

“How do you mistake her for Gio’s pregnant wife?”

“She was in the car, I didn’t know!”

“He likes her, so it’ll have to work. That or we find another chance to get the wife.”

“It’ll work.”

That’s what you’re worried about.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What can I do to help?” Gio asks.

“Your weigh-in’s about to start. If you don’t show up, people will know something’s wrong,” Chris answers. “It might alert the kidnappers.”

“I know this is hard. But you have to go out there and pretend that everything is normal. We have people with your wife, they can’t get to her, and we’re doing everything we can to find the people who did this,” Deacon promises.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon notices a man filming Gio at the weigh-in and follows him out of the arena, pausing in an alley to call Hondo.

“Yeah, Deac, talk to me. What’s going on?” Hondo asks.

“There was a suspicious guy around the weigh-in. White, six foot, 25 to 30. It’s probably nothing, but I want to check it out,” Deacon replies. “He walked into an old factory six blocks from the arena.”

“You got an address?”

“Twelfth and Maple. Northwest alley.”

“Street’s callin’ for backup, Deac.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Secured to the chair and blindfolded, you can’t see when people come or go, and have no idea where you are. Several men have been in and out, and you try to breathe quietly and listen for them.

A voice - Deacon, you know immediately - says your name before asking, “Are you okay? I’m here to help.” He lifts the blindfold over your head and says, “Hey.”

You pant as he pulls the gag from your mouth, nodding as you thank him. Deacon kneels beside you, keeping a hand on your arm. He pulls his phone from his pocket and talks while he unties you.

“Hey, Hondo,” he says. “I found her. She’s tied up, but she’s okay.”

You shake your arm, trying to alert Deacon of the men entering the room, but it doesn’t work, so you turn your head toward him, hoping to find comfort in his presence.

“Stand up,” one of the men commands.

Deacon drops something into a box, moving his phone to his pocket as he stands and raises his hands in surrender. Both men point guns at Deacon, and you push back against your chair, hoping that this doesn’t end terribly.

“I probably shouldn’t be here, huh?” Deacon asks. “I followed him from the weigh-in. I was in the room when Torres heard the message, and- and he begged me not to do anything, but I… I thought if I found his assistant, you know, maybe he’d give a reward or something. Look, the name is Schupatz. I’m just a security guard. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Turn around,” the men demand.

“I don’t want to cause any problems.”

Deacon turns, and you flinch when he’s hit over the head with the butt of a gun. Bringing your shoulder to your cheek, you look away and try to hide, but the man turns to you, forcing you to drink a strange-colored medicine before everything goes dark.

✯✯✯✯✯

You regain consciousness before Deacon, watching him as you sit in the dusty room. He tips his head back and groans before opening his eyes.

“You okay?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Are you?”

With Deacon’s complete attention on you, despite the life-threatening situation, you grow shy and can only shrug.

“Did they hurt you?”

“Gave me medicine that knocked me out,” you explain.

“You feel okay?”

Nodding, you look at Deacon’s shoes.

“I don’t know the men who did this, but help is on the way,” Deacon promises. “There are people looking for you. They’ll come for me too. I’m a police officer.”

“SWAT,” you murmur.

“How’d you- Gio. Right?” Deacon looks around, and you flex your wrists under the rope. “All right, we got to get out of here. They need you alive as leverage until Gio loses the fight. But they’ll get rid of me soon enough. Unless we get out of here first.”

“What can I do?”

“Best thing you can do? Stay calm. I’m gonna get us out of here.”

You nod as Deacon moves his arms, trying to find a way to get free.

“Will Gio really lose?” you ask, looking at Deacon’s face.

“For you? Of course.”

He smiles as he answers, and you find it much easier to stay calm.

“Who’s Schupatz?”

“A clue to help my team find us, I hope.”

Nodding, you fall silent again. While you watch Deacon, you take his advice to stay calm and trust him. He’s breathing deeply from trying to free himself, and when he pauses, you decide to try talking to him again.

“The medicine they made me drink… will it hurt me?”

“Nah. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Gio and Esther have to be okay. If they have to leave early because of me, and their baby is born in Cuba, their lives are as good as over. They need to stay in America, Deacon. Tonight can’t be the end for them.”

“No, and it won’t be,” Deacon agrees, raising his arms again before the door opens.

You fold in on yourself, moving back as a man kneels before you, offering an open bottle.

“It’s just water,” he says.

Looking at Deacon, you wait for him to say, “It’s okay,” before taking a drink.

You feel a bit better, your dry lips and throat soothed by the water, but you furrow your brows at the look on Deacon’s face. He waits for the men to exit, closing the door behind them, to speak.

“I think we just found their soft spot,” he explains. He doesn’t mention that he’s developing his own soft spot for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

You force yourself to cry, screaming in faux pain as you push yourself against the control you’re tied to. Hooking your arm through it, pretending to be trapped, you follow Deacon’s instructions exactly.

“Hey, she needs help!” Deacon yells toward the door. “She’s losing circulation!”

The door opens, and two men enter, looking between you and Deacon.

“She tried to turn around and her arm got caught, you need to get her help,” Deacon explains. “Look, I’m a trained medic. All right? Let me out of here. Let me help her.”

“Unlock him,” one of the men says.

You continue your act as Deacon is released, standing before pushing one of the men against the wall and reaching for his taser. The second man grabs Deacon from behind, slamming him against the metal machinery he’s been tied to for what seems like forever. He groans as the men resecure his bindings, elevating his arms over his head.

“Torres is gonna lose the fight. He’s gonna do whatever you want, so there is no reason to keep her trapped like an animal,” Deacon exclaims. “Let her go.”

The men leave without another word, and you lean your face against your hands as Deacon’s chin drops toward his chest.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How much time do you think we have?” You stretch your legs toward Deacon, wishing you were feeling talkative for any other reason.

“I don’t know,” he answers.

“What are we going to do? And please don’t say you don’t know.”

Deacon chuckles, raising his shoulders. “Ow.”

“What?” you ask, looking up as Deacon moves his hands on the metal beam above him.

You hear the wire around his wrists scrubbing, and you know it has to be torture on his shoulders, but you grow hopeful at the prospect of Deacon freeing himself.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Footsteps,” you alert, just as Deacon’s arms drop, the wire snapping.

He rises, stumbling as he gains his bearings before moving to a corner behind the door to wait. Deacon is keeping his promise, and once you are safe, he’s going to try to make you shy again. It’s not necessarily a noble goal, but if it’s enough to get him through the fight, that’s all he needs.

One man enters, and Deacon waits for him to walk past before wrapping one arm around his neck, pulling tightly until the man collapses. You watch as Deacon finds a taser in his pocket, taking it before moving to untie you.

“All right. Come here,” Deacon whispers, helping you to your feet. “Are you in any actual pain or was that just really good acting?”

“I’m okay.”

Deacon looks into your eyes, nodding before leading you into a hallway. Someone yells, the sound echoing through the building.

“You can go without me, Deacon,” you offer, trying to release his hand.

His grip tightens, and he pulls you closer. “No, listen. Go in here. I’m going to lock you in here. You’ll be safe. Trust me, they’re gonna think you escaped. You just stay as quiet as possible.”

You grab his hand again, finding the courage to look directly into his brown eyes as you ask, “Will you come back?”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

You nod, releasing his hand and stepping back as the metal door closes on you.

✯✯✯✯✯

While you grow scared, alone in a locked room, Deacon is working on keeping his promise. A few blocks away, Gio is throwing a fight to save you. If your life weren’t in danger, you wouldn’t be able to handle this much attention.

You hear a police officer radio that a suspect is down and call for help. The door opens, and a man in a SWAT uniform identifies himself as a police officer.

“I got you,” he says, leading you to another officer, who takes you toward the door.

In another part of the theater, Deacon climbs onto the edge of a balcony, waiting for the right moment to drop onto the Schupatz lookalike, attempting to tase him before fighting over a gun. As they roll over one another, the trigger is pulled, and several bullets are fired into the large projector screen showing the fight.

Deacon rises to his hands and knees, knocking the other man off balance as he stands. Moving behind him, Deacon tackles the man, knocking over the projector as they fall together. Pinning the man to the floor, Deacon punches him until he stops fighting back.

“Deac!” Tan yells, entering the theater.

Deacon says your name and Hondo answers, “She’s outside with the EMTs.”

“We got the whole crew,” Street adds.

“It’s good to see you, Schupatz,” Hondo jokes.

“Good to see you, too,” Deacon replies. “All of you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

At the same time that Gio learns you are safe and turns the tide of the fight, you are watching the theater entrance for Deacon. When he walks out, rushing toward you, you stand and meet him halfway, hugging him tightly and pressing your face into his dirty blazer.

“Your face is cut, sir, we’re gonna need to tape that,” an EMT says.

“Give me a minute,” Deacon answers, tightening his grip on you.

“Let ‘em do their job,” you murmur.

Deacon huffs, and you feel his heartbeat as you pull away. Holding your hand, Deacon pulls you with him as the paramedic cleans and tapes the cut on his cheekbone.

“Still pretty,” you whisper.

Smiling widely, Deacon turns his head toward you. When you duck your head and try to pull your hand from Deacon’s, he chuckles and tugs you closer.

“This would be a terrible time to find out you’re leaving with Torres,” he murmurs.

You shake your head, explaining you’re based in Los Angeles but do freelance work with celebrities while they’re in town. Deacon is sure you’re a popular choice, unwilling or unable to talk to celebrities simply because of who you are.

“Esther went into labor,” Hondo tells Deacon. “They’re at Shaw Memorial.”

Deacon leads you to a grey Dodge Charger, taking the keys from Street before helping you into the passenger seat. He smiles as he drives, glad he completed both promises: getting you out safe and making you shy afterward.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hi,” you greet, walking into Esther’s hospital room.

Deacon enters behind you, waiting at the foot of the bed while you hug Gio and Esther, extending a finger to their new baby. Chris arrives a moment later, and Gio turns his attention to her and Deacon.

“I’m not sure how to thank you,” he expresses, hugging Chris.

Deacon watches you and the baby, a caring look in his eye accompanying his smile.

“Padre,” Gio greets, shaking Deacon’s hand before hugging him too.

You roll your eyes at the nickname again, and Deacon smiles when he notices.

“Mira,” Gio says, directing attention to his son.

“We name him Jorge,” Esther adds.

“Congratulations,” Chris offers.

“Welcome to the world, little man,” Deacon cheers, looking at Jorge before his eyes return to you.

Chris moves to close the door, and Deacon tears his eyes from you to speak to Gio and Esther. “So I know this isn’t a great time, but the Cuban delegation is camped out down the hall. This might be our only chance to talk.”

“They charted a flight to Havana for you, leaving Monday morning,” Chris adds.

“So I contacted your immigration lawyer in San Francisco, and he said he’ll be here Sunday night.”

“Thank you so much,” Gio replies. “Pero, how did you know?”

“Someone gets talktative when they’re held hostage,” Deacon jokes, looking over at you.

“Gracias, hermana,” Gio says, pulling you into another hug.

You’re glad to hide from Deacon for a moment, but when it’s time to leave, he takes your hand, and your skin warms immediately.

“I shouldn’t talk to you ever again,” you tell him.

“But you will?” he asks.

You nod, and Deacon turns to you, the same caring look present in his eyes as he raises his free hand to your cheek.

“Then I’m glad I kept my promise.”

“Seems like you have a soft spot too,” you mumble against his hand, leaning toward him.

“Maybe I do,” Deacon agrees, smiling as he moves his hand, wrapping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. He kisses the crown of your head and laughs when you turn to hide against his suit again.

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