#this is a bit of a shot in the dark since the fans seem to mostly be on twitter but yea

[multitrackdrifting]

looking to make some (18+) mutuals that are into:

nijisanji (all livers)

vspo

apac apex esports

other indie vtubers (e.g. kamito, kiru, gori)

i watch a lot of kuzuha, hskw, kanae, lazulight, obsydia & a tonne of the jp nijis. if that's you then i'd be pleased to make your acquaintance ^^

i also listen to vsingers like HACHI, Saki Ashizawa and VESPERBELL

#vtubers #nijisanji #vspo #this is a bit of a shot in the dark since the fans seem to mostly be on twitter but yea

[mydemimonde]

'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)

a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.

Words: 4490

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)

You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.

The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.

“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.

“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.

“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.

You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.

“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.

“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.

“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.

“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.

You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.

“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened. 

“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.

“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.

Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.

Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”

“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.

Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.

“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.

You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.

One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.

“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”

“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.

That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.

But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.

He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.

You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.

Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.

“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”

Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” Silly old me?

“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.

“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.

“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.

“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.

Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”

He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.

“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.

“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”

“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”

“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.

“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.

9:15 AM.

You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.

As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.

“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.

“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.

“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.

“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.

Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.

Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.

You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”

“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.

However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.

Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”

“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”

Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.

“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.

He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.

“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.

Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”

You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.

You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.

3:40 PM.

You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.

You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.

“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.

You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.

“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.

Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”

“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.

“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.

Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.

He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”

You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.

“No. You’re just wasting my time.”

“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.

“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”

You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.

“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”

Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”

There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.

Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.

You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.

You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”

“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.

“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”

Michael gulps. “W-what?”

“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.

Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.

“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.

“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.

“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.

You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.

The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.

His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?

You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.

“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.

“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.

Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.

“Did-did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.

He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.

“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.

“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”

“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”

“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”

You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.

let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

[lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer]

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”  

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.  

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.  

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.  

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.  

“How would you have known an actor?”  

“Well, if you must know, I was-”   

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.  

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.  

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”  

My face went bright red, and I huffed.  

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”  

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”  

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”  

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”  

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.  

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”  

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.  

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

“No chems.”  

*** 

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.  

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?” 

I shrugged.  

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”  

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.  

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left. 

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”  

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.” 

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”  

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”  

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.  

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.  

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”  

*** 

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.  

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”  

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.  

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.  

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.  

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.  

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.  

*** 

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.  

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.  

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”  

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”  

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.  

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.  

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.  

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.  

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.  

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Calabasas, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.  

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.  

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

Part 2

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout show #walton goggins #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you

[theemporium]

just clicked through your mv33 core and I feel like, since max didn't really have a rebellious teen phase, reader doing funny stuff with him? maybe skinny dipping or shotgunning all the weird stuff one tries as teen

why would you hurt me like this?? i am so soft?? oh my god?? this could be like a whole series🤠anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“This is stupid.” 

“It’s a pivotal part of teenage rebellion!” 

“Which teenager is stupid enough to do this?” 

“I did it when I was a teenager.” 

“I rest my case.”

You shot the boy a look, but he only grinned in response. 

When you were introduced to the world of Formula One, you had a million and one different people telling you what you should think of Max Verstappen. Whether it was journalists or paddock members or fans online, so many people were telling you what he was like. He was a villain, he was a cheat, he was everything bad with the sport. 

But when you met Max Verstappen, none of those words ever came to mind when you thought of him. 

He was blunt and straightforward with the words he spoke. But he was also undeniably caring and thoughtful. He cared deeply for the people close to him. He gave respect to everyone he met, regardless of their opinion on him. He was dedicated and hard-working, and it baffled you that this man was painted as the big, bad guy of Formula One.

The closer you got to the two-time world champion, the more you learned. There would be countless conversations where you would either find yourself on the phone to him or sat across from him on a hotel bed, legs crossed and smiles wide as you talking about anything and everything. 

When Max opened up about his childhood and lifestyle growing up, you don’t think he realised just how heartbreaking it was. He waved it all off, saying that was just how life was if you wanted to be a Formula One driver. But you didn’t buy it.

And you think, deep down, he knew that wasn’t very true either.

You wanted to change that. You wanted to give him back his years of lost childhood and teenage shenanigans, no matter how stupid or small and insignificant it may seem. You wanted to give him those memories, those experiences. And in all honesty, Max didn’t really care about it—but he liked having those experiences with you. 

“This just seems a bit pointless,” Max spoke up once again, his hands resting on his hips as he stared out at the dark water. “What do you gain from this?”

“An adrenaline rush and the thrill of hypothermia’s early stages,” you grinned back at him. “It never gets old, Verstappen. Skinny-dipping is a key experience everyone must partake in before they turn thirty.” 

Max narrowed his eyes at you. “Suddenly everything about you makes sense, Trouble.”

You grinned at the nickname. “Stop stalling, Max.” 

As much as he tried to avoid staring, he couldn’t help himself. His eyes were glued to you as he watched you pull your shirt over your head and dump it onto the sand beside you. Your shorts soon followed, and you were left in nothing but your bikini.

“Enjoying the view, Maxie?” 

His cheeks burned as he snapped his gaze away from you. He looked ahead of him, at the dark water. He could see the waves lapping against the sand, see the tide rise just before your feet before the water was dragged back in. But he couldn’t see the horizon any longer, not in the light of the moon and stars glittering in the sky.

Maybe that was what made it more thrilling. 

“Fine,” Max huffed before he pulled his shirt over his head. “Let’s do this.”

“That’s the spirit, Verstappen!” 

Max wasn’t even sure what he would feel. He almost imagined an epiphany would hit him the second his body was submerged in the ocean water, that the burning desire to make all the memories you spoke about would become stronger. 

Instead, he was just painfully aware that he was naked in the ocean, with his best friend a few feet away, also naked and grinning at him like he meant something.

“Don’t you feel refreshed?” You called out to him, your arms swaying back and forth to stay afloat. 

“I feel like you might have had a more boring childhood than I did if this is what you did for fun,” he retorted, his lips twitching upwards when he heard you laugh. 

“This is only the beginning, Max,” you said to him, almost like your words were a promise. “We are going to give you the crazy teenage life you should have had.”

His smile was more sincere. “I can’t wait for you to show me the world, Trouble.”

.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[saintlaurentisms]

hi my love! been obsessed with the fictional club scene recently; was wondering if you could write me a quick smutty club bathroom/dancefloor blurb!!! have fun with it, i love ya <3 :3

fulfilling the fantasy.

A/N: i had so much fun writing this, holy shit. this is dedicated to all of the harry & ashton fans in the world (and on the internet!), i see you and i believe you have taste.

gif credit.

summary: in which, you and your boyfriend go out to celebrate a successful first tour gig and the adrenaline seriously heightens emotions. ~ featuring ashton irwin of 5 seconds of summer.

content warning: smut (semi-public p-in-v sex in front of a mirror, voyeurism, threesome (???), dirty talk (degradation + praise), oral sex (male receiving), some hair pulling, daddy kink.) this work is intended for those 18+ and should be read by mature audiences only.

word count: 2.7k+ words.

The post-concert adrenaline hadn’t wavered in Harry’s veins, that much was evident. When you looked at him, all you could see was the radiance of energy and purity of happiness; evergreen in his eyes, the rose color in his lips, the blackness of ink that shone underneath the arctic hues of blue and white in the nightclub you and Harry had ventured to in the darkness of the evening. It was risky going out, especially at a time where One Direction fans were probably having their own adventure, still riding the high of seeing their favorite band perform live, but you nor Harry seemed to care.

Tonight was all about him, all about celebrating a successful first show and the beginning of the On the Road Again tour. The rest of the boys had preoccupied themselves with their own forms of fun, leaving you and Harry by yourselves. Upon entering the venue, you beelined towards the bar, your hand in Harry’s with your heads bowed to try and keep your identities a bit of a secret. You’re in the middle of ordering a round of vodka shots for you both before you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn your head to get a glance at who could have tapped you, though you’re already suspecting it was a fan. 

You were wrong.

“Holy shit, Ashton?” You exclaim, eyebrows furrowing at the man in front of you. Harry’s eyes widen a bit at your words, turning his body fully to face the drummer, abandoning the bartender and the prospect of alcohol. It had been a while since you’d interacted with Ashton in person, only really communicating via text or video chat since you last saw him a year ago. Of course, it had been far longer for Harry; One Direction had 5 Seconds of Summer on tour with them in 2013 and 2014 and they all grew quite close during that time, but their communication had fizzled out due to how busy both bands became. 

“I knew it was you!” Ashton grins, hazel eyes glimmering with excitement as the pair of you take each other in. The buzz of chemistry between you and the Australian was palpable – palpable enough for anyone to notice it, including Harry. 

Harry’s lips twitch up into a small smile at the interaction taking place in front of him, yet an ugly, gnawing feeling in his gut is slowly beginning to grow; he knew you were attracted to Ashton when you’d met back in 2013 and that Ashton reciprocated those feelings once you both had gotten to know one another. However, you and Harry had just begun dating and knew that nothing would come of your little crush on the drummer. Still, a deep-seated insecurity nestled its way into his bones and, apparently, hadn’t quite left. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the unsettling amount of jealousy your boyfriend was beginning to feel made his evergreen eyes go emerald; hard, darkened. “We’re celebrating tour,” Harry cuts in, instinctively wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “the first show was earlier on.” 

“Yeah, I heard through the grapevine,” Ashton replies playfully, “Niall. Niall’s the grapevine. He asked if the boys and I could catch the show, but we were busy. Will you be in Australia for a bit?”

“Yes! Yeah, we’ll be in Australia. 1D has shows in Brisbane and Melbourne.” The words tumble out of your mouth and it sounds as though you’re a walking advert for your boyfriend’s band. Clearly, Ashton finds it cute because he’s chuckling at your unfiltered enthusiasm the minute you stop rambling. 

“Well, it was great to see you guys. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He smiles, though his words are a slight dig at your boyfriend; Ashton could tell Harry’s guard was up and the jealousy that he exuded was crystal clear. At least, it was to him.

You, on the other hand, were too wrapped up in excitement to truly take note. 

The drummer leaves you and Harry at the bar, going back into the atmosphere of the club. You spot him joining a group of friends at a table. Part of you wishes he’d stay and chat more, but the evening wasn’t about socializing, it was about basking in the glory of your popstar beau. 

Everything seems to return back to normal; you turn your attention back to the bar and order that round of vodka shots for yourself and Harry. The two of you are two shots deep before his gaze falls on you, “D’you want to fuck him?” 

You choke on the alcohol, sputtering slightly with wide eyes at the incredibly unexpected question. “W-What? What the fuck are you- are you talking about?” You speak between breaths, trying to regain composure. Harry wasn’t usually so direct, this only happened whenever sex was involved, so why he was so upfront confused you a bit. 

“Do you want to have sex with Ashton?”

“Harry,” You look at him incredulously, “don’t be ridiculous. No, I don’t want to sleep with Ashton.”

“Don’t lie, Y/N. You’ve always fancied him, we both know that.”

“So what? I’m with you, I love you. Want you, not him. It’s just a little celebrity crush, H. You know I’d-”

“Darling,” Harry interrupts with a chuckle, amused by your immediate instinct to reassure him that you’d never entertain infidelity. He knew how committed you were to him. “S’ not what I mean. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. M’ askin’ if you’d ever thought about fucking him.” 

You weren’t sure whether to be truthful or to set aside your feelings. On one hand, he was only asking you if you’d thought about it or had ever fantasized about it, yet on the other hand, a part of you was sure that if you answered with the truth, he’d get angry with you. However, Harry had never been the type to get angry over honesty. In fact, he preached being truthful. 

“I’ve… thought about it, yeah. It isn’t really a fantasy about him fucking me, though. It’s more- well, it’s more about you and him.”

Your boyfriend blinks, “A threesome?”

“Kind of? I- I guess you could describe it that way. You, uhm.. You take turns.”

At this, the popstar is silent. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks for a brief moment. 

“We share you.”

You cringe at Harry’s words. The lewdness of his sentence lingers and makes you feel queasy, “When you put it like that, I sound like a slut. I hate how that sounds.”

“Baby, there’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to explore having more than one sexual partner. ‘Spose it is a threesome you’re wanting. I…” He trails off, pearly teeth nibbling at his lower lip as he starts to think deeply once more, diving head first into the depths of his head. 

“Yeah?” You coax, eyebrows raising slightly.

“I’ll be honest, m’ a bit jealous about it- the idea of another man takin’ you. But, if it’s just a one time thing, I think I could be okay with it.” Harry replies sincerely, green eyes meeting your own briefly. “One night only, the two of us makin’ you ours for an evening.”

Those words go straight to your core and your brain begins to conjure up filthy images of Ashton and Harry taking turns pleasing you. Your thighs squeeze together in order to quell the heat beginning to bloom in between them. “Please?” You ask quietly, gazing up at your boyfriend with faux innocence; a little look like this tends to send Harry into dominant overdrive. 

He smirks, “Text him and tell him to meet us in the bathroom, love.”

Within eight minutes, Ashton is tapping on the club’s bathroom door before swiftly entering and locking it behind him. His hazel eyes glance over at Harry, then at you. “Are you sure about this?”

You’d texted the drummer about the situation when your boyfriend had told you to, not leaving any important details out of it. It was made clear: you, Harry and Ashton, fucking in the club’s bathroom. The only opportunity you’d ever get to have both of the men you deemed incredibly fit and had the most chemistry with. 

You nod confidently, “I’m sure, I promise.” 

Like a switch had flipped, Ashton’s gaze meets Harry’s again, but there’s a haze in it; his once bright hazel eyes are clouded with desire. Some silent conversation is had between their eyes, maybe it’s both men agreeing to the terms – whatever it is, they both exude an aura of dominance that has your heartbeat increasing. You’ve never wanted to be on your knees this badly before.

The feeling of Harry’s lips brushing against your ear brings you out of your reverie and a short gasp leaves your lips as they trail downward and press a deep kiss to your neck. Ashton walks forward, one of his hands cupping your cheek as he brings his lips to yours, sealing your fate. 

The affair becomes a blur of quick movements and kisses shared as time progresses. The soft clink of belts being unbuckled and heavy breathing fills the room when you’re finally brought down to your knees, eyes feigning innocence as you look up at Ashton. His hand is wrapped around his cock, the tip of it right at your lips. 

“Go on, baby. Show Ashton how much of a good little slut y’ are.” Harry encourages you, leaning against the sink with his hand tugging slowly at his length. Without much else, your lips wrap around the drummer’s dick, your head bobbing up and down in order to take more of it in.

“Fuck,” Ashton swears through gritted teeth, his free hand weaving itself into your hair, gently guiding your movements, “so good, doll. Keep goin’ just like that for me.” 

You do, you allow him to guide your movements with each tug on your hair, furthering his cock into your mouth. It’s sloppy; tears are welling in your eyes whenever he hits the back of your throat, your saliva is coating his dick and your chin. “She’s such a slut for it, Styles. Damn, you got lucky.” Ashton groans low in his throat, which makes Harry smirk.

“Bet you’re absolutely dripping, aren’t you baby? Adore being used, don’t you?” Your boyfriend taunts you, evergreen eyes watching you suck off his friend. All you can do is look at him as validation for his statement. 

Ashton’s fingers wrapping in the strands of your hair becomes slightly fiercer, pulling and pushing your lips up and down his length as he chases euphoria. “Fuck, I’m close.” He warns, hazel eyes shutting as he tries his damndest to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your eyes flit towards Harry, who’s still watching you give Ashton a blowjob, his hand tugging at his cock lazily. A devilish grin has throned itself upon his lips, “Cum for her, Ash.”

The drummer’s fingers twitch momentarily, then still. A guttural groan leaves his lips as his head tilts back and his cock throbs in between your lips, emptying himself into your mouth. Eagerly, you swallow what he gives you – and it’s a lot; thick streams of cum paint your tongue white.

Ashton pulls away from you once his cock starts to soften, tucking himself back into his trousers and gently helping you up from off your knees. “That was- shit, that was really fuckin’ good.”

“I- uh.. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You reply a bit bashfully. “Now, do you mind if Harry and I…” You trail off, hoping he’d take the hint that you wanted to be alone with your significant other.

Thankfully, he does. Ashton turns to look at himself in the mirror above the sink, straightening himself out before saying goodbye to you and Harry, then asking your boyfriend to text him. He unlocks the door and disappears into the club. 

You make quick work of locking it once more, then face your boyfriend. Harry gestures you over to him and the minute you’re standing in front of him, both of his hands grip your waist. He wastes no time in undressing your lower half and bending you over the sink, one of his hands reaching to pull at your hair so your eyes are focused on your reflections in the mirror. He’s being rough, but you hadn’t expected much else; whenever he got really aroused, his dominant side would peak significantly. 

“Did you like having Ashton’s dick down your throat, darling? I know you did, I can feel just how wet you are.” He teases you, the head of his length pressing up against your entrance. “I think you enjoyed it a bit too much, Y/N. D’you need to be reminded of who you belong to, baby?”

You swallow thickly, eyes meeting his through the mirror, “Yes.”

“Sorry? Didn’t quite hear you, love.”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “Yes, Daddy.”

The feeling of Harry’s cock stretching you out overwhelms your senses, your nails claw at the sink as he bottoms out. “Have to be quick,” He grunts as his hips start to move, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy at an unrelenting pace, “but I’ll make damn sure you know who you belong to once m’ finished.” 

You can’t speak, your lips are parted as heavy breaths and choked moans roll off of your tongue as your boyfriend takes you. Harry’s right hand finds your clit, the pads of his fingers start toying with the sensitive pearl. “Look at you, takin’ my cock like the perfect slut that y’ are. Should fulfill more of your fantasies if this is how bloody good you’ll be.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes- yes, please!” You mewl, the prospect of exploring more of your desires with the man that you love makes you more aroused, your pussy clenches around his cock at the thought. “I- I love being your p-perfect little slut.”

“I know, angel. So fuckin’ perfect f’ Daddy.” 

A whine leaves your lips, “God, Harry, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Not before you tell me who you belong to, baby.” 

Another whine leaves your lips; he’s playing a game with you and if you don’t obey the rules, you won’t get to orgasm. You need to orgasm. 

“Yours, Harry. I- I’m all yours.”

He gives a particularly rough thrust and his teeth scrape at your ear, “Who’s pussy is this?”

You gasp, “Yours.”

“That’s right, angel. Now you can cum f’ me.” 

Harry’s fingers on your clit continue to rub quick circles, his eyes fixated on your features twisting up in pure ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard; jaw slack, eyes pinched shut, pussy throbbing around his cock. 

The feeling of you squeezing around him like a vice triggers his own orgasm. He buries his face into the crook of your neck to muffle the loud groan that reverberates in his chest, his stomach clenching as he empties himself inside of you. 

“Holy shit.” You chuckle breathlessly as your orgasms begin to dissipate. Harry’s hand falls away from your clit and he gingerly begins to pull out of you, eyebrows furrowing a bit at the feeling. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, helping you steady yourself as you straighten up. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. I do have a question for you,” You begin, just as you both start redressing, “were you being serious about fulfilling more of my fantasies? Or was that the testosterone talking?”

Harry grins, “Definitely not just the testosterone. We’ve never actually discussed what sexual fantasies you’ve had.”

“Do you have any?” You ask curiously, quietly wracking your brain for a possible answer he might give.

“Not very many, but I do have a few. Don’t think we should begin discussing them now, darling. We’ve been in here for a long time.” He replies, taking a quick glance at himself in the mirror, then wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Right,” You giggle, “we should go.” 

Harry reaches to unlock the bathroom door and leads you back out into the club, the both of you exiting with smug expressions on your faces and one shared thought…

If this was only one of your fantasies, what else could you both explore?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #lhh!harry #1d smut #1d imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles filth #harry smut #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton x reader #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin smut #5sos imagine #5sos smut #harry styles x y/n #ashton irwin x y/n #harry styles blurb #ashton irwin blurb #harry styles smut

[the-s1lly-corner]

He accidentally hurts you (Eyeless Jack edition)

I've been meaning to explore something like this and I'm still hungry for angst! Very heavy on my hc of "eyeless jack is cursed and has moments where his monstrous side takes a hold of him especially when it craves flesh",

Basic idea is reader gets hurt, jack smells blood, curse immediately totally takes over, blah blah things happen

More fan fiction-y than my usual short headcannons, but still using the bullet point format since I couldnt commit to the bit

Cw for mild injury, blood, mentions of SH but I wont dwell on it

Not proof read we die like Jack's self esteem

It wasnt too often that the ugliest side of Jack's curse showed itself; at least that's what you thought. You were under the impression that it happened rarely, due to the fact that you only visit Jack when he gives you the go ahead, on nights where he knows it wouldn't be an issue

But tonight, as your anniversary draws near, you decided to drop in unexpected for a night with your boyfriend. It was hard enough getting to his cabin, what with the rain and it being dark..

When you made it to his door, you could hear... noises..

Growls, hisses, howls; all pained. It sounded like there was a fight happening on the other side of the door... the sound of things being thrown and someone's body slamming against the walls made your worry spike

Of course you opened the door, fearing that someone had intruded into your partners cabin.. but when you threw it open, you saw that Jack was alone. Covered in bruises, and his arms bloodied with claw marks and bite wounds; showing off his blackened, inky blood. The man's small body heaved with ragged breaths as his empty sockets locked onto you

You quickly explained yourself after assessing that he was in one of his.. low points..

He wanted you to leave, but the rain had become to pour harsher outside; far too dangerous to walk out alone

And how could you leave him be when he was so obviously wounded? You insisted on patching him up, to which Jack reluctantly agreed to.

So you took him to the bathroom and took out his small first aid kit, and got to work.

Washing the wounds, adding pressure to where he needed it, added bandages. When you were done, you placed a light kiss on his arms

That seemed to soften him up, even through his building bloodlust and hunger

"I'll go get some bedding and we can set camp out in the living room," you said, trying to keep him pacified. He seemed to enjoy the idea..

He was smiling.. that's good, and his breathing seemed to calm down just a touch, though it was still on the.. hissy growly side..

You headed to his room, gathered some of his comforters and pillows, and walked to the living room, then went to his room a second time to grab his radio, knowing it can help keep him calm.

Unfortunately; due to the cabin being run down, one of the wooden floorboards was loose and lightly curled upwards... and, well. You tripped. You managed to save the radio, somehow, but your face slammed down onto the floor

Instant nosebleed

You cursed, and pressed a finger up to your upper lip.. yep, that's blood.. lots of it, the burning in your face intensifying as the pain set in, making your eyes water

Before you even had time to process anything else, a growl caught your attention. Spinning around, still on the floor, you saw Jack. The leaking ink of his eyes doubled in pace and volume; making a mess of his face and shirt as his bared teeth flashed down at you, nose flared and ears peaked at attention. Because of course, how could you forget, the smell of blood is basically a death sentence when Jack's curse is flared.

Your mind raced as you scooted backwards, Jack seemed to be fighting himself; but he lost. Before you could choose between running or bracing, he jumped on you

Bracing it was, then. Your arms shot up in front of you, and you felt white hot pain almost immediately

But just as soon as he jumped on you, you felt him pull himself off. Blood was all over his jaw, and getting spread all over the floor as he began to force himself to spit it out. Growls were replaced by low whines, before he scampered off, leaving you alone

It all happened so fast you were left confused on the floor, holding your arm. It felt worse than it looked; his teeth didnt seem to go that deep, and since he didnt... pull at you with his teeth still in, you were still intact... that was nice, at least..

Your mind went back to racing as you processed what happened.. you needed to get cleaned up before Jack slipped again

And that's exactly what you did; you rushed into the bathroom you were in just earlier, and began the process of cleaning the wound..

After a minute, the door cracked open; Jack peered in, more mellowed out than before but guilt was written all over his face. It was clear he was still struggling with his hunger, and you can tell just by looking that he was debating whether or not to approach you

His face twisted in pain when he, although hard to tell due to his lack of eyes, seemed to glance at the wound

"Its not that bad," you insist, but he shook his head. "You could have died.. I should have dealt with this sooner, you shouldn't have to.." he trailed off, "get hurt," he finished. His ears drooped slightly as he slumped. He pushed the door open, and entered the bathroom

His hands shook slightly as he removed yours from your arm. "Its my fault, I need to fix it.." he mumbled. You didn't push him away, although it may have been a dumb idea to let the starving man eater handle your bloodied arm

Cleaned, applied pressure, bandaged

He stared at the bandages, still holding your arm in his hands

You finally noticed just how cold he was. Jack was always on the cooler side, but at the moment he was freezing, even though he was covered in a layer of sweat

He ran his clawed fingers along where the wound would be, as light as a feather, as not to risk hurting you again

He leaned down, and lightly pressed a kiss to the bandages; just as you done for him

"Im so sorry," he whimpered, leaving another kiss

"You shouldn't have to be put in danger just to try to help me," his eyes welled with inky tears, and he left another kiss

"You shouldn't have to see me like this," his voice creaked out, another kiss

He was about to lay down a fifth kiss, but you stopped him

You reassure him; it wasn't exactly his fault. He didnt ask to be cursed, he didn't mean any of this to happen, he had been roped and manipulated into the situation that made him this way. You reassured him that you'd heal, and you weren't going to think badly of him, how you took the chance for something like this to happen when you first got together. Things like that. Though, this will call for a more in depth discussion about how to prevent this in the future, make a system and means of communication so he can warn you ahead of time during flare ups... but right now, comfort was top priority

It took a minute, but his tears slowed and he got control on his breathing. He whimpered, before peeling himself off of you

He backed off, but you tugged him into your arms

Cue the waterworks, again. You both hugged, not speaking.. just standing there for a few minutes. He rested his head on your chest, and you rested yours in his shoulder. You pulled away, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Do you still want me to stay?", you asked. He looked conflicted. He didnt want to run the risk, but he didnt want to be alone. Besides, the storm was still raging outside

"Why don't you.. stay here tonight, I'll step out.." he said softly as he stepped back. He cut you off before you could respond, "I'll be back soon, I just.. need to get this.." he gestured to himself, "dealt with, I don't feel safe having you around.. its only a matter of time before.. " he trailed off. You nodded, "I understand.. be back in the morning?"

He hesitated, before nodding back, "I'll be back as soon as I can be," he said quietly

You let him make his way to the front door, tugging his hold and mask on

"I love you," you said as you watched him open the door

He paused.

"I love you, too," he said, the cracks returning in his voice, likely choking down his emotions again

"We'll talk.. more about this in the morning," he added, smoother this time

"Alrighty," was all you said

And he left for the night, closing the door behind him

WOOOO

I hope that wasny too bad

This was really just a VERY vague idea I had for a few days that i wanted to write but I'm too lazy to do proof reading and rough drafts <\3 and im not used to writing longer detailed stuff like this, let alone dialogue

I hope it's not too cringe, I feel like the ending it rushed because

Erm

I didnt know how to end it

So

Uj

Yay

Eyeless jack angst

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack imagine #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack #eyeless jack angst #angst

[vxlentinescookies]

One-shot of (Jester) Shadow Milk cookie x (Princess) Fem Reader please 🙏🏻

Plot : The reader hates her kingdom because it ruled by the infamous greedy king (her father), later on her father hired a new jester and eventually the princess and the jester become close friend (they secretly like eachother) but king despise the idea that his daughter being close with the jester and is planning to do something bad.

I need yummy angst with fluff 🙏🏻

Also, we knew that Shadow Milk could easily destroy the kingdom, he's one of the beasts afterall-

→ ❛A rose in times of war❜

→ Pairing ; Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader → Quote ; ❛❛Do you trust me, my dearest?❜❜ → Genre ; Drama , Romance → A/N ; Here you go! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe

Once upon a time, there was a princess, caught in the claws of a greedy little kingdom. Her father, the King of the vast land, was greedy and infamous, often spending large quantities of money in parties and riches that could only amount to showing off his vast wealth. The princess was tired, exhausted of this behavior, so much that his father, in an unlikely act of love, hired the help of a handsome and great Jester, called—

“Shadow Milk Cookie, I know thats you you’re describing in the story…”

“Oh my dear (y/n) cookie, just allow me to have some fun!”

Ahem, long lost in the hills of earthbread, near Beast-Yeast, yet far away from most kingdoms, there would lie a kingdom, characterized for its poverty and power imbalance. Townsfolk would beg for a little bit of food, while the royalty boasted their riches and overabundance, this little kingdom was called Red Clover Kingdom. Ruled by King Clover Cookie, he’d become infamous in the chatter of his subjects and other kingdoms, due to his ruling with an iron fist and greed coating his words. Yet, despite all of this, one thing seemed to be clear, and its that he loved his daughter dearly. You see, the king wasnt always like this, there was a time where the king once was kind and full of life, but since the death of Queen Camellia Cookie, nothing but ruin and darkness had but befallen the kingdom. Consumed by grief, the King changed completely, fully submitting to the darkness in his heart and turning the kingdom into his own little playground, a truth he tried to hide from the Princess, whom he adored with his life as the only remnant of his wife’s legacy. 

Seeing the princess' saddened state, the boredom that leaked into her mind and into her life, the King came to a resolution, and that was bringing forth a jester, a companion for the Princess, said jester, was none other than Shadow Milk Cookie. Having infiltrated the kingdom as an attempt to escape from being locked out again by White Lily Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie became appointed as the Princess jester, a job he relished in as it allowed him to partake into creating plays and making others laugh, but it also meant that he had to stay at bay, save he want to be found out, which wasnt that fun but he could manage. With that in mind, the relationship between the Princess and Shadow Milk cookie would slowly shift into one of friendship and comfort, as the Princess would find safety and a confidant in the jester.

“Shadow Milk cookie, you’re so funny” The princess would tell the jester once, laughing as he finished another of his puppet plays with expertise. 

“Of course I am, Im a jester after all!” He noted, and the princess couldnt do anything but laugh gently. 

“Of course you are” The princess would say with a smile, looking at the jester before thinking deeply. “And to think that when we met, I wasnt keen on you, you’ve truly surpassed my expectations, jester of mine… And Im grateful of that.”

Of course, the princess wasnt always keen on the jester. Thinking at first that he was a tactic of his father to keep her controlled, she would at first be coarse and harsh on the jester, hiding behind her fan as the poor cookie tried his best to make the royal laugh, but it was difficult. It’d take one specific parody of the royalty, presented only in front of the princess and some of her handmaids, to make the princess finally break into laughter, something that seemed to be unlikely, it seemed to finally have happened. 

“Right, that moment was quite precious, I hold it dear to my heart” Shadow milk cookie said with pride in his voice, holding a hand to his heart while another lifted his hat, and the princess couldnt do anything but giggle at his mannerisms “I mean it! Your laughter breaks my heart now, ahuhu…”

“Oh you silly jester” She’d say warmly, walking towards him to put a hand on his shoulder. “Truly, what would I do without you…”

Those words seemed to take Shadow milk by surprise, as he looked at the princess for long moments before simply smiling and hitting her with another one of his jokes, another parody of the royalty of the dark kingdom, and the Princess would hide her mouth with her fan as she laughed. Things were surely lively in her quarters, since of course, Shadow Milk Cookie couldnt afford to laugh at royalty in front of the king himself, oh no! Of course he couldnt, save he’d be sent away to the dark dungeons of the castle—And then the princess would be all sad and mopey, and that was something he didnt want to happen.

Silently, though, would their relationship deepen the more they spent together, the more they shared moments and laughter, it was something visible and palatable to those around them, the handmaids, the butlers, everyone but them. For the princess would keep on laughing, and the jester would keep on entertaining her. Knowledge of their feelings growing closer and closer together would eventually find the ears of the king, however, and nothing but anger would come from his lips as he thought of what to do. This wasnt meant to happen, he wasnt meant to fall for the princess, nor viceversa, but oh, who was he to say who the princess deserved? Apparently, someone because the next thing he did would be something that would mark the poor princess forever.

“An arranged marriage? B-But, father—”

“No buts! You will marry the prince of the kingdom of Rose Champagne, lest you wish to see that damned Jester suffer!”

With nothing else to say, the poor princess couldnt do anything but go to her room and cry inconsolably, seeing her life go down the drain as the King forced her to take a path she didnt want, to take the hand of someone she didnt love, it was all a nightmare, and as Shadow Milk cookie approached the room for the daily session with his favorite princess, he’d come to see the aftermath of a dark endeavor. 

“Oh Shadow Milk Cookie, my loyal jester!” The princess would cry out as she went to hug the cookie, who, dumbfounded, would hold her in his arms to soothe her. “The king, the king wants to marry me off!!”

“W-What?”

“Y-Yes, he wants me rid of someone from another kingdom, and I must abide lest… lest they hurt you…”

The words felt like daggers into his heart, as the cookie simply listened to the poor princess’ laments. And then, only then would darkness and deceit take shape and form inside of the cookie, feeling those old feelings resurface and take shape into the darkest of ways. He consoled the princess, then, the handmaids leaving the room to leave them both be, as the Jester rubbed circles on her back, shushing her down to a small slumber. Oh dearest princess, if only you knew how much this jester has grown to adore you, your smiles, your laughter, your voice and your overall self, then you’d know that somethings are only done in the name of love.

Deceit was the last name of Shadow Milk Cookie, and with the only truth on his lips being his love for the princess, he’d ideate a plan to get her out of there, and into the depths of Beast-Yeast. Carefully would plan a way to turn the handmaids against the king, the butlers, the cooks, the servants and the townspeople, which wasnt hard, as all of them already felt a certain way, less than favorable, about the father of the princess. Then, he’d call upon a riot, a riot to overthrow the king and lead to a better future for both the kingdom and the princess. And while all that happened, he’d steal the princess away, take her somewhere safer, somewhere deep within Beast-Yeast.

“Are you sure this plan will work?” One of the townsfolk asked, looking around the room as the jester, clad in a cloak, only smiled.

“Of course, I’m the princess’ appointed jester after all… Who else would know the castle better than me?”

That would mark a countdown that would end a fateful rainy day, deep into the darkness of the night, when the princess was sleeping, clad in a white dress, would wake to the thunder and the silhouette to someone in the balcony. 

“W-Who’s there…?” She’d ask, sheepishly as Shadow Milk would only open the balcony doors, extending a hand over to her. “S-Shadow Milk Cookie…?”

“My dearest princess, will you accept this jester’s dance this night?” He’d speak, then, with the warmest of smiles and the most devious of gazes. Truly, a meeting for a lifetime.

“W-What are you doing here, my jester?”

“There is no time to lose, princess, a riot is brewing within the townsfolk and the servants of the kingdom, we must make haste and escape while we can…”

“But…”

“Do you trust me, my dearest?”

Silence would fill the room for long moments, as the princess would think about what to do, who to follow. But deep within her heart, she’d run to Shadow Milk and hold his face in her hands, completing the moment with a loving kiss. It would be returned, gingerly by the jester taken by surprise, as he led them towards the balcony, and in a jump of faith, would they both fall in the middle of the rain into the garden. Roars and wrath would be heard in the kingdom as the beast known as Shadow Milk Cookie would take the princess away, stealing one of the horses from the stable to run into the distance. Loud galloping could be heard from one of the exits of the kingdom, Shadow milk keeping the Princess hidden under a spell of invisibility and the cloak she now carried on.

Legend says that the beast and the princess were never to be seen again, as one of the townsfolk would take over the kingdom as the newly appointed king. Nobody but the king himself, who rotted away in the dungeons would weep for the lost princess, save for a few handmaids, except those who had learnt the true plan Shadow Milk Cookie had for them.

‘I’ll steal (Y/N) away, I’ll bring her into Beast-Yeast, the safest part there is and…’

“Shadow Milk Cookie?”

It had been years since you left the Kingdom, since the titles of princess and jester started becoming meaningless between you both. You called upon him as he turned to look at you, holding his child in your arms in the middle of a clearing in the forest, where the morning dew illuminated you making you seem… angelic. Oh, how could he afford to lose someone like you…

“Yes, my princess?” He’d ask, walking towards you and cupping your face in his hand, he was much taller, much bigger, and yet, he held you like the most precious doll in the world.

“Food is ready, I was going to call you earlier but you seemed so stuck in your thoughts and I didnt want to interrupt that I…” You trailed off, feeling his finger dance around your lips softly. “... I love you”

“I love you too, my dearest”

‘... And I’ll make her my wife.’

#🌙;moonlit dreams #shadow milk cookie x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader

[sunflowerrosewood]

Take a Bullet For You ~ Mafia! Bucky Barnes

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot! This is a mafia alternative universe

You just moved into the New York area to open your coffee shop under your apartment. You knew it was insane to move into an area where one of the roughest mafia gangs resided. The big mafia leader was named James Barnes nicknamed Bucky the Sniper. You knew all of this but continued to move in and set up shop. You didn’t think he was near. 

While you were moving in, Bucky was watching from across the street with his right hand man, Steve. From what he gathered was that you were just a coffee shop owner but he still was intrigued you picked a shitty neighborhood. You seemed confident even though most of your customers would be his mafia. 

“Why are we watching her?” Steve asked. “She’s not important to what we need done.”

“She’s interesting.” Bucky said. 

“Oh no! Don’t get all lovey dovey on me. She wouldn’t walk two seconds in our direction.” Steve snapped.

You continued to set shop up so you could open in the next few days. You opened the shop two days later and a bulky gruff man was your customer. You figured you’d see sketchy people but not the head of the mafia game. He was wearing all black. Combat boots, leather jacket, tighter jeans. 

“Good morning. How may I help you?” You asked, feeling a bit of nervousness settling in. 

“Just a cup of black coffee with a spoonful of sugar ma’am.” He said as he put a $20 on the counter. 

“Okay let me get your change.”

“Wait. Just keep it. You’re new, arntcha?” The guy said. 

“Just moved in a few days ago. I’m Y/n. You must be Bucky the Sniper?” You said putting two and two together.

“You’re not scared?” He asked. 

“At first. But you haven’t done anything to make me think worse of you.” You mentioned before pouring his cup of coffee. 

“You’re definitely different. Not in a bad way of course.” Bucky said nonchalantly before taking his cup to leave. “I’ll be around Y/n.”

You watched Bucky leave the coffee shop. You knew from this moment that nothing would be the same. You did not think you’d meet the mafia leader so soon but c’est la vie I guess. 

But you did not know that you had infiltrated Bucky’s head. For some reason he couldn’t get your e/c eyes filled with wonder. He couldn’t help it. Something about you attracted him. He would tell the rest of the mafia to protect you. 

You wouldn’t notice this in the week. An opposing mafia team tried to kidnap you but before they could even act, Bucky’s mafia members got rid of them. What did make you question is a guy asked for your number at the shop within the same week and never called back. But Bucky was always your first and last customer. 

It had been a week since this and it was a Thursday night. You were closing up shop when Bucky came in groaning. 

“Oh Bucky, I was wondering when y- what happened to you?” You yelled as you heard a few more gunshots. 

A blonde haired guy and a dark skinned guy came in. They were panting. The blondie looked at you. 

“Do you know first aid?” He asked. 

“I d-do.” You stuttered. 

“Then get to work.” He snapped. 

“Steve, quit scar-scaring her.  Just focus on protecting us.” Bucky coughed. 

“Bucky is right. She knows what to do. That other mafia will be here shortly.” The dark skinned guy snapped. 

“Sam, have any of the others called?” Steve asked. 

You quickly ran to the back to grab the first aid kit. As you ran back, Steve and Sam were outside with a few others. Gunshots rang out as you sat by Bucky’s side. 

“I need to remove your shirt.” You said softly. 

“Already undressing me sweetheart.” Bucky drawled out but took off his shirt. 

“Oh shut it.” You snapped but chuckled a bit. 

“Good. Keep that smile. I’ll be okay with you.” Bucky said as he placed his hand on your thigh. “After this, we are going to finally have that date.” 

“Wh-what?!” You exclaimed before washing his wound. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice my affections.” Bucky teased as you pulled the bullet out that was lodged into his side. “Warn me next time!”

“How about not throwing surprises out?” You said as you grabbed the disinfectant. “Okay this will sting.” 

Bucky hissed for a minute as you continued to clean. The gunshots slowed down and finally stopped. You helped Bucky sit up as Steve and Sam came back in. 

“We told the others to go home. Do you want us to stay?” Steve asked. 

“I’ll be better shortly. I still have to discuss some things with Y/n.” Bucky said as Sam cackled. 

“Are you going to quit acting like a lovesick puppy?” Sam cackled. “Hell that bullet was suppose to hit her but you got in the way.”

“What?” You exclaimed. 

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” Steve said as he was pushing Sam out the door. 

“So when were you going to tell me that?” You questioned as Bucky shakily stood up. He laughed softly as you saw a warm blush appear on his face. 

“I guess I should explain that.” Bucky said. “I was trying not to fall for you. But when I did, the other mafias saw you as a toy or token to me.”

“So you just decided to take the bullet?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting the whole “taking you on a date”? I would take any bullet for you to be safe. I have fallen for you.” Bucky explained as your face flushed with heat. 

Bucky pulled you into his arms and kissed your cheek. You smiled at him and squeezed his neck for a hug.

“After you heal, you can take me on that date anytime.” You said as you felt him squeeze back. 

You felt Bucky chuckle against the hold. You two broke the hug and Bucky began to leave. You felt a piece of paper in your back pocket. It was his number but before you could say anything, Bucky had left. 

#marvel au #marvel winter soldier #marvel fluff #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel bucky barnes #marvel bucky barnes x reader #marvel mcu #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky banes x reader insert #marvel reader insert #marvel headcanons

[spin-ya-zinnia]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ You are more ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

—☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆—

⚢—✮—⚢

Pairing: Velvet x FEM!reader

Genre: ANGST

Summary:

Y/N, Velvet and Veneer's chartered accountant, visits Velvet's mansion for work, but their conversation takes an unexpected turn as she notices Velvet's distress. The two delve into a discussion about perfectionism, revealing Velvet's rooted fear of imperfection.

A/N: this is my FIRST ever oneshot, I have no idea how to feel about this since I don't have any experience with writing. Let me know what you think and if I should continue (or find a different hobby💀)!

On her way to Velvet's mansion, Y/N mentally rehearsed what she would say. Just before knocking, she fixed her formal clothing and checked her appearance in a small pocket mirror. Okay, she's ready, she knocked, patiently waiting. When Velvet opened the door a minute later, her disheveled appearance spoke volumes with messy hair, dark under-eye circles, and crumpled clothes.

"Good evening," Y/N said, noting Velvet's tired look but tactfully avoiding drawing attention to it.

Velvet softly murmured a greeting and gestured for Y/N to come inside with a subtle nod of her head.

As Y/N stepped inside, she took a moment to glance around Velvet's place. The usual luxurious furniture and accessories were there, but this time, they were kind of hidden beneath clothes and a bit of a mess Velvet seemed to have just made. It was clear she had come home not too long ago, considering the mess still waiting for her servants to tidy up.

"I've got some wonderful news for you, your earnings this month have seen a significant increase compared to last month."

Y/N flashed a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. But Velvet seemed lost in her own thoughts, heading straight for a sofa and flopping down on it like she was more collapsing than sitting.

"Your recent performances and new endorsement deal contributed to a boost in income. The tour is doing exceptionally well, and the endorsement has been a hit among your fans. You should be proud of yourself."

Y/N said, forcing a wider, somewhat awkward smile and straightening her posture. She was attempting to maintain a professional demeanor, but the genuine concern for Velvet, who had barely spoken, was making it increasingly challenging.

She decided to take a shot and sat down next to Velvet on the sofa. Velvet looked up, noticing the papers Y/N held, but she didn't say anything. In that moment, Y/N recalled Veneer's comment about Velvet having a soft spot for her. At first, she brushed it off as a joke, but now it lingered in her thoughts, making her wonder if there was more to it than just humor.

"How are we doing compared to projections?" Velvet's voice unexpectedly cut through the silence.

Y/N, relieved that Velvet had spoken, responded with a tone infused with pride and happiness: "Surpassing expectations, actually. We've exceeded the projected earnings for this quarter. The new strategies we implemented seem to be paying off."

Velvet continued to look at her, like she was waiting for her to spill more. Getting this job was a real hustle for Y/N, and the fact that Velvet picked her over everyone else still felt a bit unreal. Though she couldn't deny her intense feelings for Velvet, she knew better than letting them mess with her professional game. Deep down, she cherished the fondness, but she had to keep it under wraps, not wanting it to interfere with the job she worked so hard for.

There was this unexpected sudden warmth in Velvet's gaze that caught her off guard, making her briefly look away and awkwardly clear her throat.

"As for expenses and taxes, we've been managing expenses efficiently, and there are no unexpected spikes. On the tax front, we've optimized strategies to minimize liabilities, so you're in good shape there-"

Y/N was all set to keep rambling, but Velvet cut in, shaking her head and letting out a little sigh.

"Alright, that's plenty for now. It's getting too late for me to fully absorb all of this. Do me a favor, be a gem, and put all this in an email. Send it over in the morning, okay? And simplify it." Velvet concluded with a tired yawn.

Y/N couldn't help but be entranced by Velvet, even with her beautiful long green hair tousled. Messy or not, Velvet always seemed to radiate beauty in Y/N's eyes. She silently pondered if there was ever a moment when Velvet wasn't the most beautiful person in the room.

Yet, amidst this admiration, Y/N couldn't shake the concern for Velvet's well-being. "Of course," she replied, a brief pause preceding her next words. "I know it's not really my place, but are you getting enough sleep? Lack of rest can mess with your performance," she said, her gaze wandering around the mansion, picking up on subtle details that hinted at potential issues affecting Velvet's mental health. "And it's not just about work, it can take a toll on you as a person too."

Velvet let out a chuckle. A slight bitterness behind her words. "You don't need to earn extra points for pretending to care. Spare me the act and go now."

Y/N blinked, earnestly stating, "I'm saying this for your own well-being. We need to address any potential factors that might negatively impact your performance. As a singer, you simply can't afford to make mistakes." Her gaze lingered on Velvet, who was reclined on the sofa, seemingly on the brink of drifting into sleep. Y/N chuckled softly, adding, "It must be exhausting, not being allowed to make any mistakes at all. Maintaining this image of perfection, isn't it draining?"

Velvet pouted her lips. "It's not draining when you're genuinely perfect, which, of course, I am," she declared, casting a confident smirk in Y/N's direction.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle. "As much as I genuinely believe in your awesomeness, I have to remind you that nobody is perfect, and it's okay to make mistakes," she said with a forced formal smile.

"Not me, I can't," Velvet asserted. Although her words carried a confident tone, there was a subtle shift in the air, a trace of underlying sadness that Y/N keenly picked up on.

"But Velvet, being perfect is impossible," Y/N countered gently.

"I'm either perfect or nothing!" Velvet asserted with an angry tone.

She stared at her for a while, the room enveloped in a heavy silence broken only by the ticking of the clock in the back.

"Velvet... that's... not a healthy way to see things," Y/N expressed with genuine concern.

"You don't get it! This is the only thing I have. I have to be perfect, I don't want to go back to being a nobody. I don't want my existence to be a waste of air," Velvet almost shouted, tears making their way into her eyes.

"You're not a waste of air..." Y/N tried to comfort her.

"But without my work, what am I?! It's all I've got!! It's all I am!!!" Velvet's frustration grew, each word expressing the depth of her inner problems. However, beneath the anger, Y/N sensed a layer of profound pain, hidden, creeping on her.

"First, you need to realize that you are a person, a soul, not defined by what you achieve. I'm sure you're a good person under all of this; you just have to see it," Y/N encouraged, offering Velvet a hug. Velvet stared at her for a while, contemplating, and then finally surrendered into her arms, tears streaming down as she released the weight she had been carrying.

She wrapped her arms around Velvet in a tight hug, feeling the significance of the moment. As Velvet chose to trust her with this vulnerability, she couldn't shake off a peculiar sense of protectiveness. If she could, she'd morph into a shield, guarding Velvet forever. Holding her in her arms, Y/N let Velvet cry it all out, creating a safe space for her emotions to unfold.

After Velvet's tears subsided, Y/N continued holding her for a moment longer before gently pulling away. As she glanced at Velvet's face, she noticed a certain detachment in her expression, as if she wasn't fully present, numb to the world. Y/N tenderly caressed her cheek, cupping her face, eliciting a surprised look from Velvet, who didn't resist.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

Velvet, uncertain of how to respond, looked away, her emotions swirling in a complex mix of vulnerability and uncertainty.

"I'll help you, okay? We can work on this, together. You aren't alone," Y/N reassured with a sad smile, she started caressing her shoulders.

She buried her face in Y/N's shoulder, silent, obviously thinking of what's going on to her.

Y/N gently caressed Velvet's back. "Is there anything I could do for you?"

"Can you just hold me a little longer? Everything feels better when you are here," Velvet whispered.

Y/N smiled, a slight blush gracing her cheeks. "Of course."

#trolls #trolls band together #velvet trolls #trolls velvet #velvet x reader #trolls velvet x reader #trolls band together velvet

[teddypickerry]

Hey please can I request a Nikki Sixx x reader! Just a bit of jealous! Nikki, something along the lines of that there either at a music awards or some red carpet and the boys are off performing, and whilst waiting with the other s/os reader gets hit on by someone, and she plays into it, until the boys return and all hell breaks loose because no one flirts with Nikkis girl

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!

pairings! 2000s nikki x younger gf

warnings! age gap couple (not specified age), i think that’s it

word count! 900

a/n! hi mfs. alive & thriving w another nikki fic. i didn’t specify his exact age or the readers. but it is hot 2000s nikki bc he is my bf (real). so. DEAL WITH ITTTT.

AS IF BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with a rockstar wasn't enough pressure from the public eye and his many (envious) female fans, music awards were pure stress. although your boyfriend, nikki, grew out of his phase of attending every spectacular event, you were still in attendance of a few of them. while nikki loved showing you off and having you there for support, you didn't quite enjoy it as much as you wished. although the thought of fangirling over your favorite musicians sufficed — you also had to deal with the overwhelming flood of hate directed at your relationship on social media the next morning.

it was always the same headlines. "nikki's downgraded to another twenty-year old" "y/n is hardly enough for a rockstar" "he's probably off cheating on her as per usual" or "i prefer nikki and his ex" it's just pure judgment of a relationship they haven't even witnessed. they don't see the love you share or how well the man treats you.

but the headlines truly didn't matter as much as supporting your boyfriend and his career, his passion. so, you found yourself sat at the rock 'n' roll hall of fame inductory evening. although mötley had yet to be awarded for their one of a kindness in the rock industry, they were still being honored tonight in the form of performing. which excited all four of them because whether or not they liked it, they would be performing infront of the most iconic and talented musicians. mick couldn't stop talking about jeff beck on the car ride over. he didn't want to fuck up in the god's presence.

but so far he'd done excellently during the beginning and chorus of 'kickstart my heart' which was a song having the crowd losing their shit. and quite honestly, so were you. you hadn't seen nikki perform too many times due to busy schedules and god was it hot. but as the hit came to the end, you noticed a man inching closer to you in his chair. he was only a few down from you but since the band was up on stage, they left you, their empty chairs, and tommy's girlfriend. you shot her an odd look as she glanced in the man's direction, shrugging it off. you decided to do the same until he filled your boyfriend's position beside you. which only made you ultimately uncomfortable.

"what's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone tonight? looking for eligible bachelors?" the man whispered towards you ear while the crowd roared in cheers for the notorious rock band. you simply rubbed your lips together without turning in his direction. your eyes locked on your boyfriend exiting the stage and heading backstage. "eligible bachelors?" you scoffed, simply annoyed with the toying of flirtation.

"yeah, some rich rocker... but you seem like a self-made typa woman," he quipped as his eyes travelled your tight fitting dress. your eyes finally caught a glimpse of him — recognizing him as some drummer in a rock band not so popular. but you knew him from your brother's crippling obsession with underground bands. "what does that even mean?"

"you've got a mouth on you..." he smirked while running a hand through his short dark hair as if he was all that. which only got on your nerves even more as you messed with your up-do, watching them announce commercial break upon the stage. but this guy wasn't letting go. "so are you an artist, producer, manager, a plus one, perhaps?"

"plus one." you responded with a glare as the man attempted to scoot closer to you. your thighs brushed for a moment before you shoved over to the next chair — visibly uncomfortable. "will you leave her alone?" tommy's girlfriend asked as she viewed the situation. the man furrowed his eyebrows before shooting a charming smile. "just making conversation."

you crossed your arms defensively as tommy's girlfriend shot you a sympathetic look. "so who're you with then, doll?" the drummer asked daringly. which only made you hold back an eye roll. "just saw him onstage."

"one of the old guys, cmon." he rolled his eyes as if it were nonsense. even though he couldn't be much younger than nikki himself. it was when nikki's death glare caught his attention that his eyes slightly widened. "old guys? will you get the fuck out of my chair before i deck you in the fucking face." sixx warned as the man stood up quickly and made his way towards the aisle and as far from the group as possible. slash laughed from the row behind. "jesus christ," you mumbled as nikki took a seat beside you. you scooted into him, back into your old seat. the rest of the band followed behind him and questioned the man practically drooling over you.

nikki wrapped an arm around you as you placed a kiss to his cheek. "thanks for saving me, rockstar." you whispered which made him smile slightly before going back to his 'hardcore rockstar' look. "yeah well, no one messes with nikki's girl."

"dumbass," tommy mumbled beside the in love nikki. all while the bassist was planning the ways he was going to fuck up the guy hitting on you after the show.

#teddypickerry #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx #need more nikki sixx fics #mötley crue fic #tommy lee x reader #mick mars #vince neil #nikki sixx x fem reader #nikki sixx oneshot #nikki sixx blurb #older nikki sixx x reader

[kingtheghast]

Hi!!

I was a bit confused on you info about Lumians, and wanted to ask you if you have any more info on them! :D

I’m totally cool with infodumping btw!

Thanks in advance!! :>

Boy oh boy spopera lore time!

First of all credit for Lumian!Martyn to @strifesolution , who is the local Yogscast fan among us space operators that make up the au, and since lumians are a yogs aliens.

General spopera tdlr is: treebark are spaceship racers! For the space opera au I think we’ve been allowed to make things up a bit and play around with the lumian worldbuilding. Here’s what I got from the collective lore google docs for the au:

Lumians are a bipedal humanoid species that produces a bioluminescent element in their bodies called bioneos. Lumians are identifiable by bioneos freckles. In the au and out of the main characters, Martyn and False are lumians, Martyn having an almost cyan tone to his bioneos, while False has red.

The colour varies, and it can help track family lineage, despite the fact that lumians are typically a communal species with no nuclear family unit. However, some lumian families that leave their home planet may no longer have the community support, and likely adopt a family unit home style.

Lumians may have “gendered” appearances but they are a unisexual species. Societal roles in lumian culture are often decided by stature. Shorter, broader lumians often take to building, hunting, and child rearing. Taller, more slender lumians will take to taming, climbing, and navigation.

The home planet of Lumians, Corruscate, has a tropical climate. The planet is mostly covered in jungle and forests, with megaflora that cast dark shadows. To compensate for the darkness created, living species in Corruscate, as the lumians themselves, have bioneos that create the bioluminescence typical of lumians.

Since lumians are from a hot planet, they are particularly susceptible to cold and temperature drops. As a defense mechanism to save energy mentally and physically, and to be able to get themselves out of the cold, they’ve evolved “glacieration”, also known as “frost mode”

Frost mode is essentially a survival mode to keep them alive. As the temperature decreases the lumian will feel cold and uncomfortable and sick, until they suddenly seem to gather themselves and be okay; this, apart from a pale and grey complexion and dulled glow, is a sign of frost mode.

The body freezes over as it switches its priority from maintaining heat to creating adrenaline for the lumian to use to get themselves into a safe temperature. However, the modern lumian can decide to ignore the primitive urge to warm up and instead do other activities, although prolonged frost mode is lethal.

A result of the intense shot of adrenaline is erratic behaviour, like apathy or snapping or being aggressive.

(These pieces I made for treebarkweek, for example, were meant to be about frost mode happening while Ren and Martyn went to a very cold planet for a race. The assumption is that the cold discomfort happened mid-race, but Martyn refused to retire. Afterwards when Ren follows him into the lockers he finds him fully in frost mode; he can't feel the cold anymore since he's sort of icy all over now, and he's pumped full of adrenaline and suceptible to being irrational, so he'll probably pick a fight with Ren if Ren decides to chastise him about putting the race before his health)

(My guy is ice. He's producing cold clouds. Someone give him lukewarm water)

(Also it might be obvious already but frost mode was taken from the idea of having inthelittlefrost in the au somehow.)

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO ANSWER!!!! #we fr love the au all the people involved #at all time im thinking about space opera au. space f1 treebark save me.... #save me lumians... save me little glowsticks..... #space opera au #asks.tag #ghast.art

[xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx]

Off The Market

Chris Evans x Black Wife!Reader

WARNINGS: tipsy!Chris, mild fluff, flirting, nosy tv interviewer, very mild nudity

AUTHOR’s NOTE: An oldie from my old page, edited and brought over here. Also regardless if my fic has no smut or dark mentions, all of my work is still 18+. This isn’t apart of the Chris x Wife series I was thinking about. Just a stand alone one-shot.

BETA’d: @titty-teetee

Chris Evans was standing dressed in his best on the red carpet for the premiere of the final Avengers movie, rightfully titled, Avengers: Endgame. Tonight was going to be a little bittersweet, as this would be the last time that all six original members of the Avengers would walk the red carpet together. It was finally time for the torch, or in his case, Captain’s shield, to be passed on.

This was also Chris’ very first red carpet appearance since the two of you tied the knot a little over a couple of months ago.

Of course news had been buzzing for weeks about your very secret nuptials. People were questioning if it happened or if it didn’t happen. Paparazzi scrambled for days outside of your home in Los Angeles, trying to get a small glimpse to see if the two of you were wearing your rings. But they’d come up with nothing. Especially, since the two of you had fully relocated to his hometown in Boston.

But your wedding definitely happened, and it was definitely a secret. Your wedding was so secret, in fact, that your small group of guests, who thought they were arriving to celebrate your engagement, got the surprise of a lifetime when you showed up in your beautiful wedding dress, while you and Chris exchanged vows moments later.

Both yourself and Chris, much like most of your relationship and engagement, wanted to keep this to yourselves for a while. You just wanted to enjoy being husband and wife before the press found out and started hounding you with future plans of starting a family, which of course, you and Chris were definitely excited to be practicing. Especially the horndog that was your husband.

The two of you had a date set for when you were going to announce that you had gotten hitched, but that didn’t stop the vultures from their prying.

Chris, who smiled coyly at the flashing photographers, gave a small wave and a curt nod. He was nervous, and his anxiety was on a high level, which he tried to calm with shots of whiskey earlier with his co-stars, Jeremy Renner and Mark Ruffalo. But with every scream of the paparazzi and the surrounding fans, his nerves seemed to grow a little bit more intense.

Chris continued to make his way down the carpet, saying his hellos to his other fellow cast mates, while sharing jokes with his buddies, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan. Luckily, most of the interviewers kept things professional in their questioning, only asking about the film and his future projects. Even asking him to give shout outs to other countries.

His last stop on the interview trail was with Nancy O’Dell from Entertainment Tonight. Now Chris has known Nancy for quite some time, as she’s interviewed him plenty of times in the past, but he also knew she was never too shy to get personal with him. And that scared the living hell out of him.

“Here we have Chris Evans, ladies and gentlemen,” the beautiful, older blonde celebrity anchor announced as Chris stepped up to his spot next to her. They quickly exchanged a casual hug. “How are you feeling tonight? You look amazing.”

Chris cleared his throat, nervously running a hand across his tie. “Thank you. I’m feeling pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you.” She smiled, leaning into him. She was also a little too clingy with him at times, you’ve clearly noticed. But that was usually when you weren’t on his arm. Like tonight. “So, Chris, this is it. Final Avengers movie for you all. How did it feel to put that Cap suit back on for the last time?”

“A little tight.” Chris joked, causing Nancy to giggle softly. “No, it was amazing. Being on set with some of my best friends made for such a fun, great experience— a little bittersweet though since it’s the last time a lot of us will be in the same room with each other. But I feel we all did it justice. 10 years is a long time to be doing this, and I’m very proud of what we’ve accomplished in the end.”

“I can definitely see lots of emotions running high with everyone. Especially on this night.” Nancy stated, and Chris nodded in agreement. “Aside from the movie premiere here tonight, I really have to ask: Where is your better half? I’m surprised she’s not here with you tonight.”

Chris chuckled softly, again, running a hand down his tie. “You know, she really wanted to be here, but her schedule is just as crazy as mine. If not more, but, she’s definitely here with me in Spirit.” He gave the nosy news anchor a smile.

Well, wherever she is, we are sending her the best.” Nancy replied, reaching out to throw an arm around Chris’ shoulder. “And speaking of your better half, I feel like there are just a few things we need to get cleared up. Maybe some of those rumors you want to address?”

This time Chris let out a nervous chuckle. He knew exactly where this was headed. “That depends on what rumors you are referring to?”

“Well,” Nancy paused for dramatic effect, “is Chris Evans officially off the market?”

Yep, she went there.

“Oh,” Chris immediately jerked his head back, as he finally started to feel that whiskey warming his system. “Oh,” he repeated over and over.

“I mean, is it true?” Nancy questioned him, desperately trying to see if she could get a glimpse of the wedding ring on his left hand. Of course, it wasn’t there. You made sure of that.

“We’re not doing that.” Chris shook a finger at her, laughing.

“Why not? I know everybody at home,” Nancy pointed to the camera, “would love to know if our favorite superhero, here, finally got his happy ending.”

“Sh,” Chris shushed her, leaning to stroke her microphone. “Sh, sh, shhh.”

“He’s petting my mic.” Nancy, again, turned to the camera, giggling. She knew that she wasn’t going to get her way tonight. “So, is this your way of leaving this one alone?”

Chris looked back up at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I mean, you will know when it happens. But we both are happy where we are right now.”

“And that’s all that matters?” Nancy questioned, and Chris just nodded, stuffing his hands back in the pocket of his pants. “Well, we appreciate the honesty, Chris. Good luck tonight.”

“Thank you.” Chris smiled, giving her one last hug and walking away.

The moment Chris was out of the way of the paparazzi, he immediately pulled out his phone from his pocket and sent you a quick text.

dodged that bullet

His phone buzzed only seconds later with your response.

Wifey: I’m guessing you got asked & it was by Nancy wasn’t it?

yep & yep

Wifey: well it’s a good thing I have your ring with me

Chris smiled to himself, adamantly typing on his phone.

Yeah I’m going to need that back

Wifey: you’ll get it back soon

you’ll just have to take it off of me first

Chris’ phone buzzed a third time. But it wasn’t a typed response like he’d been expecting. It was a picture of you. You were currently wearing his platinum, engraved wedding ring on a necklace, secured safely around your neck, dressed in a white lace push-up bra. The barely there material stood out amongst the softness of your gorgeous brown skin.

Chris sucked in a deep breath, staring down at the image in front of him. Goddamn it, he missed the fuck out of you. He quickly started typing again.

Mrs. Evans you’re driving me fucking crazy here

Wifey: well Mr. Evans my husband just abandoned me

what’s a girl to do by herself in this big, empty house

Before Chris started typing again, the three dotted bubble —as if you were still typing— appeared on his screen. Within seconds, another photo of you showed up. This time it was a matching lace thong you were wearing.

Fuck this premiere

I’m getting on a plane

And coming home right now.

Wifey: I’ll be waiting

Chris sighed heavily, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, and immediately tried to find the nearest exit. He needed to get home to you. And he needed to get home now.

#chris evans x black!reader #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader

[mauesartetc]

Faux-compositing Hazbin Hotel for more visual clarity

A while back I recolored a screenshot from the Hazbin Hotel pilot to make the overall palette look more cohesive. Here’s the original:

And here’s the result.

And I figure, hey, that was fun, and folks (myself included) seemed to learn from it. Why not make some more? If you subscribe to the “every frame a painting” philosophy, this is the post for you.

I’ve always had two criticisms regarding Hazbin’s colors:

1. There’s entirely too much red in the environment. I know it’s Hell, but this is really overbearing. There are ways to make the setting feel oppressive other than bombarding viewers’ eyes, y’know?

2. The background characters have so many disparate palettes that they don’t feel like they belong in the setting. This could’ve been avoided by giving the fans who designed the characters a master palette to use as a guideline. Here’s the one I used for my hellhound designs:

It contains colors derived from canon Helluva Boss characters, which makes the new ones feel like they fit in the same world rather than hailing from completely different shows. For the faux-composite above, I sampled colors from Charlie and the background, and used them to rework the surrounding characters. For other shots, though, I may use the hellhound palette as needed since Helluva Boss is set in the same universe.

Let’s get to it!

To start with, there’s a lot going on in this scene. We have a detailed foreground character, a detailed background, and a middle ground character caught between them. In the left side of the frame, it’s hard to read the wolfman’s silhouette against the background elements since their values are so similar. Meanwhile, the cowboy stands out fine for the most part, though his hat brim gets a bit lost in the trim of the building behind him. So basically I needed a way to make all three layers look distinct from one another.

I settled on cloaking most of the background in shadow and doing the same for the cowboy, except for rim lighting and a glow from his cigarette to highlight his face. The wolfman and cart full of bodies have minimal shading; enough to give them some dimension but not so much that they blend in with everything behind them.

We then have more background characters to deal with at the news station:

In these cases, I simply painted over the crowd with purple on a couple Multiply layers (same as my initial recolor of these folks), erasing bits here and there to suggest rim lighting and glowing eyes. Charlie’s silhouette stands out much more clearly now that the heightened value contrast has cemented her as the focus.

I tried a similar approach with the demons outside the TV store:

While there was never any doubt that Alastor was the focal point here, I felt the ancillary characters’ color schemes could be more unified, and that their shading could reflect the light sources surrounding them (mainly the TVs in front of them, and the fire surrounding the horned skull demon). I also felt the wall on the right was blending in too much with the background, so I threw on some shading to make it pop.

Now we get to Charlie’s phone call:

I found it odd that the stained glass in the doors was illuminated from the inside when the previous scenes showed us that the hotel was dark. We did see a check-in desk with functional lights, but it was located waaaay down the hall from these doors. Thus, the glass is now in shadow, with some added texture on the edges to suggest its thickness.

Charlie is now also covered in shadow to fit the gloomy mood of the scene, though the rim lighting and her unshaded eyes keep her separate from the background.

Finally, the skyscraper windows in the second screenshot were way too bright, which gave them a contrast that drew attention away from Charlie. It’s never a good sign when animation backgrounds upstage the characters. So I slapped some color on them and shaded that front row of buildings to boost the overall gloom factor.

Then, Alastor arrives:

Given the darkness of the previous scene in the same location, I figured it’d make sense to kill the lights in the awning for this one. And now that most of the hotel is in shadow, Charlie and Alastor stand out a lot more (especially Alastor’s hand, which was practically invisible against the red wall). It really helps that the saturated yellow of the awning is toned down so it won’t be such an eye trap any longer.

Alastor makes himself at home:

...And the hyper-detailed background threatens to swallow him up.

Look, guys- I get that you’re proud of your rendering skills and all, and it’s admirable that you put so much love and care into these layouts. But, y’know, we don’t have to see the whole thing, especially not at the cost of the final frame. The portraits and wallpaper are especially distracting, battling Alastor for visual dominance. A little shading ensures Alastor is the focus without obscuring the portraits completely. Let ‘em be fun Easter eggs fans can study when they pause the video, not the stars of the show.

Alastor then regards the two grumps on the couch:

There was a noticeable lack of shading in this scene (except the default shadows on what I’m guessing were 3D models), making everything look flat. With the help of my good friend the Multiply layer, I gave the background some dimension and brought the characters forward.

Vaggie warns Charlie that Alastor is bad news, and Charlie takes it into consideration:

Again, we have the issue of background portraits attempting to steal the characters’ thunder. In the second screenshot, look at how much those bright greens and cyans stick out like a sore thumb against the dusky pink of everything else. Was it really necessary to keep all the colors of that illustration exactly how they were for the final product?

To remedy this, I desaturated the portrait’s colors and skewed them towards red so the image would better fit the context of the scene. And parts of the picture frame next to it were blending into the wall, so I added some shading there to make it stand out more.

Sometimes, changes made to a confined area can make a world of difference:

I muted the bright greens of the balloon and the flag so their saturation wouldn’t dominate everything else in the scene (again, eye traps), and shaded the stuff behind Alastor so his side of the frame wouldn’t look so busy.

I used similar tactics for when Niffty enters the picture:

For the first screenshot, I plunged the left side of the background into darkness, shaded the center with mainly lighter colors, and left the right side alone since that’s where the light emanated from. This resulted in a sort of gradient effect in the shading, which let Alastor and Niffty pop out a lot more.

In the second screenshot, the vase on the right was a bit distracting in how detailed it was compared to its surroundings, and it was the only pink thing in the frame besides Niffty. I shaded it so it wouldn’t steal the spotlight without disappearing completely. There was also the matter of adding shadows to the rest of the environment, particularly the stretch of hearth the firelight doesn’t touch, and the skeletons on either side of the furnace’s opening. Just some little touches to help the world feel more solid.

Then we meet Husk, and things get tricky.

Husk’s bar was a challenge due to its plethora of light sources. The green rim lights on Husk and Alastor suggest the light’s coming from the green blackjack table, but then we also have light coming through the window, lights in the sockets of the skulls above the bar, a yellow glow from the top of the bar itself, and a faint green glow from the top edges of the wooden wall. And in the third screenshot, the window grabs a lot of attention since it’s almost smack in the center of the frame and it sports some pretty saturated colors.

I did my best to shade things in a believable manner without using too much of a single color. I’m happy with how the purple worked to tone down the window, though I might change the brightness of the blackjack table. It’s still pretty saturated and a bit distracting from Husk and Alastor, though at least they stand out from the wall a bit better.

Now for the part where things get PINK:

Like wow, SO much pink. Holy hell.

I layered some yellow over Charlie and Alastor’s faces, bodies, and limbs so they’d be more discernible from the background, with extra emphasis on their faces to show just how enraptured they are during this musical number. I even left some glow in the negative space between them, representing how connected they are in this moment. Two auras become one. Or something. (Look, I am by NO means a Charlastor shipper; I just think a little more creativity in the visuals of a dance scene could convey more energy and chemistry between the partners. Especially when everything on screen is this monochromatic, like damn.)

Anyway, Sir Pent is here.

That blue in the tunnel of his airship was WAY saturated, and while the reds and yellows barely managed to pop out against it, I thought I’d give them more of a fighting chance. The body of the ship is also more consistently shaded to make it feel 3D, and I added some rim lights to the tips of Pent’s hood so they’d stand out against the dark tunnel.

But Alastor’s eldritch horrors dispose of Pent in pretty short order:

The extremely light glow on the left side of this screenshot caused the hotel to compete with the tentacles for dominance. And once again, there was the matter of the skyscraper windows being so bright they drew too much attention to themselves. I colored these windows with the same orange as the sky behind them, cloaked the hotel in shadow, kept a yellowish glow around the characters, and darkened the evil spirits to make them pop out.

Finally, we get the characters’ reactions to what just occurred:

Figured I’d handle both the normal lighting and the “horror” lighting for this scene. The normal version’s pretty simple: Color in more skyscraper windows, eliminate that weird ray of light that seems to come from nowhere, darken the top of the sky for more contrast with the characters, add some rim lights to Alastor to make his form more clearly defined, and remove the pentagram planet-thingy that looked like it was awkwardly resting on Husk’s hat.

The horror lighting involved some of the same steps, but with more addition than subtraction. The glow from the tentacle demons now hits our characters, lending them a greater sense of volume. Light purple shadows on the gang in the back offset the yellow glow, and Alastor now sports reflections in his shaded areas. There’s no character animation in the transition between the terror and the levity, so if a person wanted to paint this stuff in After Effects, then fade out its opacity to reach the regular lighting, they easily could. Hell, you know what?

Do with this information what you will.

So what’s the takeaway here? I guess, in a nutshell: Don’t let your animation backgrounds upstage the characters. Don’t make them so intricate or busy or saturated that they hog the spotlight. They don’t need to wow the audience with how impressive they are; they just need to serve the story.

Will the Hazbin series learn from past mistakes (including those made in Helluva Boss)? Fingers crossed. As always, I hope y’all found this post insightful or enlightening in some way. See you in the next one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #color theory #critique #criticism #long post

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part sixty-nine: "The Lunch Date Delay"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's Saturday afternoon and Matt invites you out for lunch.

Or You're certainly craving something, but it won't be found on a menu.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: Another smupdate installment! This one features what I like to call Whiney Mess Murdock. Because Reader turns him into quite the whiney mess here. You can find the list of all the installments for this series on tumblr here. And if you're enjoying the series, feedback is always appreciated!

Setting your brush back onto the bathroom counter, you made your way towards your front door as soon as you heard the sound of the knocks. It was Saturday afternoon and Amber had stopped by a couple of hours ago to pick up Hudson. Shortly after, Matt had called wondering if you’d be free to grab lunch since he hadn’t exactly gotten to see you last night as himself. You’d eagerly accepted the invitation and had been waiting for him to arrive so the two of you could walk from your apartment to the café you were planning to have lunch at. 

Though after last night, you still had something else on your mind before you went for that lunch date.

You weren’t entirely sure what it was, but seeing Matt step into that sort of paternal role last night with Hudson had somehow fanned the fire on your desire for Matt. And while you’d eventually let it go last night after he’d popped back out of your window shortly after enjoying brownies with you and Hudson, that desire had come right back not long after he’d called you this morning. For some reason you had a strong urge to undo the zipper of his pants and take him into your mouth while he sat helpless on your couch. It was a mental visual that wouldn’t seem to leave your mind no matter what you did, and even though you were a bit nervous about abruptly initiating something like that with Matt out of the blue, especially so soon after bringing sex back into the relationship, you were determined to at least try and see what happened.

Because Matt was always a giver–in and out of the bedroom. He rarely ever let you do much for him without trying to immediately reciprocate no matter how much you told him it wasn’t needed. But in the bedroom, it was often hard to hold strong on the front of not receiving anything in return when he had the unfair advantage of knowing exactly how to work you right back up. But fuck if you weren’t determined right now as he unknowingly waited for you just outside of your apartment door. 

Though he probably wasn’t entirely unknowing, you thought as you opened the front door and invited him in. As he followed you into your apartment, his dark lenses covering his eyes and hiding part of his face, you figured he could read your body. He probably knew how worked up you were right now. And you had noticed the way one of his brows rose curiously up onto his forehead at you when you’d answered the door.

“Are you…ready for lunch then, sweetheart?” Matt asked, head canting to the side as he stopped beside your couch.

You stared back at him, eyes hungrily taking in the sight of him standing there in his winter coat and nice jeans that fit his legs so well. He began shifting back and forth on his feet in your silence, his hands gripping his cane between both fists. He had to know you were turned on before he’d stepped inside–what was going through his mind?

“No,” you answered softly.

Matt cleared his throat, his focus darting down to your body for a moment. “Are you still getting ready? I can wait if you–”

“Take your coat off, Matt,” you ordered, abruptly cutting him off.

Your sudden demand had taken you as much by surprise as it had Matt. His mouth remained open, gaping at what you’d just said. You also stood there in turn not entirely sure what had possessed you to say that, but you sure as hell had meant it. Though that didn’t stop the flush slowly creeping its way up your neck. Recovering a few seconds later, Matt’s mouth closed and you saw his lips drawing into a cocky smile.

“Sweetheart, do you need me to get you off before lunch?” he asked, his tone almost teasing. “Is that what this is? Because I could tell you were already turned on as I was coming up here, but I figured it could wait until after lunch. I wasn’t going to say anything, but…do you want me to give you some help? Is that what's going on here?”

He stood there with a self-satisfied smirk on his face that somehow only further made you want to wipe it off of his mouth. He thought you were desperate for him to help get you off, but no, that wasn’t it at all. No, you were desperate to watch him fall apart on your couch. There was something absolutely ravenous that had awoken in you after last night and you knew you just wouldn’t be able to leave for lunch if you didn’t satiate that hunger first.

“No, Matty,” you answered, moderately emboldened by the fact that he wasn’t turning you away. “I said I want you to take your coat off.”

There was a moment where Matt hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he was understanding you right, before he gradually reached out and rested his cane along the side of your couch. You watched quietly as he did before he wordlessly began unbuttoning his jacket. Slipping it off of himself, he slung it over the arm of your couch nearby. And then he focused back on you, clearly waiting for you to tell him what to do next. It had been so long since you felt the thrill of this power over him. You couldn’t deny that it was only further fueling your need.

“The glasses, too, Matty,” you said, holding out an upturned palm.

He slipped them off of his face, folding them up and placing them into your hand. You twisted at the waist and set them down on your coffee table, and then you turned back towards him, nervously gnawing your bottom lip as you took in the sight of him standing before you in his nice jeans and a dark gray long sleeve shirt that was pulling just a bit at the width of his muscular chest. His eyes were fixed on your own chest, most likely focusing into whatever your body was telling him as he so often enjoyed doing. Encouraged by his compliance, you crossed the space towards him, his head tracking the few steps you took as you did. Both of your hands landed on his chest when you came to a stop, Matt’s muscles tensing under your fingers at the feel of your touch.  

“I don’t want your help, baby,” you told him, enjoying the trembling exhale that came out of him at your words. “I want to thank you for last night,” you continued, trailing your hands slowly down the front of him. Tongue sliding along your lips, you enjoyed the solid feel of him beneath your fingers. “Being so kind as to stay and bake brownies with my nephew while you wore that uncomfortable suit the whole time. That was really sweet of you, baby.”

Matt blew out a sharp breath, a faint huff of amusement following after. “If I’d known you’d be this grateful, I’d have swung by more often when he was over,” he joked, though you caught the strain in his voice.

Your hands paused their descent just at the waistband of his jeans, your eyes focused on Matt’s. His were lingering along your left cheekbone now, an obvious excitement reflected back at you in them. You knew in that moment he wasn’t going to turn you away, and that was all you needed to shove away the last bit of your nerves.

“Sit down, Matt,” you ordered.

“Sweetie, you know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asked, his hands rising up and gently landing on your hips. “That’s not why I stayed over last night.”

“Do you not want me to take care of you?” you questioned back.

“I just want you to know you don’t have to,” he repeated.

“That’s not what I asked,” you replied.

He exhaled a deep breath, his shoulders dropping with the gesture. He nodded at you as he said, “Yes, I do. But–”

“Uh uh, no buts,” you said, cutting him off as you tapped a finger along the top of his jeans.

A cocky smile slipped back onto his face at your words. “Except you like my butt,” he teased.

That cocky smile quickly fell off of his face when your hands dropped down, unbuckling the belt around his waist. The clink of the metal had you salivating already–you really wanted this. 

“I told you,” you began, popping his button through his jeans, “to sit down, Matt.” Your right hand grabbed onto the zipper next, carefully sliding it down. “I don’t want to say it again.”

He inhaled sharply, his throat visibly bobbing as he stared silently back at you for a long moment, as if you undoing his jeans had suddenly shown him how serious you were. And then he turned, making his way past you to your couch. You smiled when you heard him mutter a curse under his breath as you followed behind. 

Matt settled onto your sofa, his legs spread wide as they often were when he sat. You leaned forward, your fingers curling along the waistband of his jeans. You began tugging them down, Matt’s hands helping as he shifted on the couch in the process. You left them at his ankles before you focused on his black boxers, satisfied when you already saw a bulge straining against the material.

“These are in the way, too,” you muttered.

Grabbing the fabric and pulling them down, you heard the soft sigh Matt released as his gradually hardening cock sprang forth. A pleased hum left you at the sight before you pulled the boxers down his thick thighs and to his ankles. His cock free, you finally lowered to your knees before Matt, your hands pushing his legs apart so you could make room for yourself between them. 

Both of your hands remained on his knees as you got comfortable on the floor, your eyes making their way up his body towards his face. He was gazing hungrily back down at you, his chest noticeably heaving already. Slowly you ran your fingers up the length of his thighs, your nails lightly scratching along his skin as you did. Matt's hips jolted a few times at the drag of them over his muscles, a faint gasp leaving his mouth.

"Oh, sweetheart," he groaned as your hands stopped on his hips. "I've missed this side of you."

"Have you?" you asked, fingers tracing his hip bones.

He nodded quickly, his brows gently drawing together as he continued to gaze down at you. Leaning forward, you placed a kiss on the inside of his left thigh, your eyes catching sight of the way the muscle twitched immediately after. 

"How much did you miss it?" you whispered against his skin.

"I've thought about it a few times after–after we worked through things," he admitted, his voice a bit ragged. "And a few times when I– ahhh –" he briefly broke off as you slid your tongue up the inside of his thigh, "–when I missed you." 

"And what'd you do about it?" you asked against his skin. 

A long, drawn out quivering exhale came from above you, the sound catching your attention. Your eyes rose up to Matt's face, taking in his own half-lidded expression as you gently kissed higher up his thigh. He blew out a sharp breath before he finally answered. 

"I jerked off," he confessed, swallowing hard. "To–to the memory of those times you'd let go with me. Times you took control.”

Head shifting to the side, you placed a kiss to the inside of his right thigh. Your hands gripped his hips tighter at his admission. You quite enjoyed that bit of knowledge. “Touching yourself while thinking about me, baby?” you murmured.

Entirely fueled by your desire, everything else in your brain shut off as your tongue darted up the inside of his right thigh. A rumbling moan reverberated in Matt’s chest in response. 

“Not as–as good as having you,” he breathed out, voice pitched a little higher.

Right hand gliding down from his hips, your fingers paused just at the base of his cock, your fingertips stroking his skin beneath the thick, dark hair there. The faintest whine fell out of him and your eyes once again made their way up towards his face. His own eyes had closed, his head tilted a bit back with his lips parted open. 

“I want you so bad,” he whispered. “Your body is so loud and it’s driving me crazy. Please , sweetheart,” he begged. 

Your lips slowly curled into a smile as you continued to gaze up at him. Just the tips of your fingers very lightly gripped around the base of his cock and Matt hissed out a sharp breath between his teeth at the faint touch. 

“Please what, baby?” you asked. 

“Touch me,” he pleaded. “Put your mouth on me." A high-pitched whine slipped out of him, his hips squirming on the cushions. " Fuck . I–I miss your mouth, sweetheart.”

His words only further had that need burning in your gut, that thrill of watching him no longer cocky and smug because of you only causing your pulse to quicken. You wanted to lunge forward and devour him here and now, to take his beautiful, stiff cock right into your mouth and ravage him–but you didn’t. Something about Matt beginning to whine on the couch as he begged you to touch him was certainly doing things to you. And you wanted to try to hold back as long as you could to drag that out.

Hand curling around the width of him, you slowly stroked his hard cock, reveling in the feel of it inside your fist. Your eyes were focused on the appendage before you, your own breathing increasing in anticipation of tasting him again. It would only be the second time in this past week since sex had returned to the relationship that you’d given him oral–mostly because Matt often tried to steer things towards sex as opposed to being the sole receiver of pleasure. Which is what he’d done all week. But now? Now you were determined to make him sit back and enjoy himself.

“Fuck, oh shit ,” he whined, throwing his head back on the couch. “ Oh , sweet girl, I missed you so fucking much.”

You hummed out a pleased noise in response, your thumb slipping over the tip of him and enjoying the way his hips bucked upwards on the sofa ever so slightly. Drawing yourself closer, your lips parted as you intentionally blew your hot breath across him, your hand still languidly stroking the length of him. Matt’s head fell further back onto the backrest of the couch, a groan rolling out of him as his mouth went slack. Beneath your hand, you felt his firm cock throbbing; the little noises falling out of him above you were letting you know he had reached that point where he was quite sensitive now. 

“Please, sweetheart,” Matt pleaded almost breathlessly. “Let me feel your beautiful mouth again.”

Eyes focusing up towards his face, you saw the deep crease between his dark brows. He whimpered as your hand continued to work him, the noise faint and full of need, your mouth only an inch from the head of his cock. You huffed out an amused breath, the exhale falling over him again as you did–a breathy, needy cry fell out of his mouth as his head tipped even further back.

“Not looking so smug right now, Matty,” you lightly teased.

“ Sweet-heart ,” he gasped, drawing the endearment out. “ Please .” His adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he swallowed hard. “Don’t–don’t tease me anymore. Can’t–can’t take it,” he said, shaking his head quickly.

Not wanting to push him any further, you finally drew your mouth towards him, lightly swiping your tongue along that sensitive place just beneath the tip of his cock. Matt’s hand abruptly dropped down onto the armrest beside you, his fingers digging into the fabric of your couch as a curse fell out of his mouth. Knowing just how sensitive he was right now, you slipped the head of him into your mouth, tongue lovingly stroking him immediately. You could taste that first salty dribble of pre-cum on your tongue as you did.

“ Shit ,” he swore, voice quivering. “S-so good , sweetie.”

You hummed in satisfaction, drawing him further into your mouth and cradling the length of him on your tongue. Your right hand was working the bit of him you just couldn’t ever quite seem to take but were someday determined to. 

“ Fuck–yes–sweetheart ,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

The sounds he was soon making above you on the couch were causing a dampness to form between your thighs as you kneeled before him, sucking his cock like you were starved for it–which is exactly how you’d felt since last night. You couldn’t help the ache of your cunt in response to the loud, panting breaths he was making, especially when they started to become sharper and laced with his desperate whines. He’d never sounded so gone before.

Briefly you drew back, taking a moment to catch your breath as your hand worked the length of him coated in your saliva. His hips thrust up into your fist and you couldn’t fight the grin that slipped on your face in response. He looked so goddamn good like this. Eager to see what other wonderful noises he’d make, you sucked just the head of him into your mouth, reveling in the throaty groan above you.

“ Ahhh! ” he cried out. “Mouth feels so fucking good, sweet girl.”

You slid down the length of him before his left hand abruptly flew forward, gently cradling the side of your face as you continued to take him in your mouth. You looked up at him through your lashes, his fingers tenderly stroking your cheek. Matt was leaning forward on the couch, his shoulders heaving as his pinched gaze landed almost along your own. You could see the flush of his face, his cheeks tinged pink. 

“So good to me,” he breathed out. “Don’t–don’t deserve you.”

The nails of your left hand bit into his thigh just a bit in protest, Matt hissing through his teeth as you let out something like a growl along his cock. He almost laughed at your disapproval but the sound broke quickly into a moan as you increased your pace. His hand slid back into your hair, gripping a fistful as carefully as he could–you could feel the restraint with which he was holding you by the way his hand was trembling against your head. A moan flew up out of your throat in response, vibrating around his cock. Matt grit his teeth again, noticeably fighting the urge to thrust into your mouth with the way he began shifting and shaking along the couch.

“Oh, God , yes–sweet girl–” he broke off on another moan, your fervor to finish him off fueling you forward. “Ju-just like that, ” he grit out. “ Don’t–fucking–stop–please.”  

You could tell he was right at the edge with the way he’d said ‘please,’ his voice breaking on the word. His hips were quaking beneath you but your focus was on his thick, pulsing cock in your mouth. Ignoring the ache in your jaw, you continued to breathe through your nose and push forward just enough to finally finish him off. His hand tightened its hold in your hair, a loud string of curses leaving his mouth that were separated by the word ‘God’ as if it had become a verbal comma.

“ Fuck , I–I’m going to cum,” he whimpered. 

Half a second after his words, you felt the warm, thick release of him in your mouth as Matt loosed a deep, rumbling moan through your apartment. Eagerly your tongue stroked him through his climax, the familiar salty taste of him in conjunction with the pleasure-filled noises he was still softly making causing your eyes to close. Greedily you swallowed every bit of that warm release of his down, only finally pulling him out of your mouth when you heard the sounds of his overstimulation as he began to soften along your tongue. 

Matt collapsed back onto your sofa and you couldn’t fight the smile spreading along your saliva-coated lips at the sight. There was a slight sheen of sweat that had formed along his forehead, his face still flushed as he tried to catch his breath. You leaned over and kissed the top of his left thigh, smiling wider against his skin as a tired, contented hum fell out of him in response to your kiss.

Rising back to your feet, you crossed the room to your kitchen counter nearby and grabbed a handful of tissues. As you walked back towards him, Matt held out an upturned palm to you, a lazy smile on his mouth and a blissed out look on his face as he accepted the tissues.

“Might want to clean yourself up, Matty,” you said coyly. “We’re late for lunch now.”

He chuckled lightly, leaning forward on the couch and grabbing the clothes that had bunched around his ankles. Gradually he pulled them up, rising carefully to his feet as he left his jeans undone so he could wash up further in the bathroom.

“Sweetheart,” Matt said, head shifting towards you as that damn self-satisfied smirk returned to his mouth, “are you even going to be hungry for lunch after the way you just took my cock?”

Heat creeping its way onto your cheeks at his bluntness, you rolled your eyes. “Stop it or I’ll wipe that smug look off your face again,” you threatened.

“Mmm, please do,” Matt whispered, making his way towards you. 

His right hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up towards his. Slowly he leaned forward, placing a lingering, sweet kiss to your lips. He was grinning when he pulled away.

“That was incredibly hot, sweetheart,” he told you. “And now I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of–especially after lunch.”

“Matt,” you chastised. “This isn’t a quid pro quo thing.”

The corner of his lip quirked even higher. “No,” he agreed. “It’s a ‘my girlfriend is incredibly sexy’ thing.”

You snorted out a laugh instantly, a hand flying over your mouth as your other hand waved him towards the bathroom. “Go clean yourself up, sweet talker,” you told him.

His eyes crinkled further at the corners before he shot you a wink. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered before turning and sauntering towards your bathroom.

Like hell if that man didn’t always know what he was doing.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #fftd

[trashboatprince]

Alright, here's the flip side to my previous sea monster wives au fic, with Crowley first properly meeting Aziraphale.

This is also a massive rewrite from what I originally had.

Crowley doesn't speak English, or any human language really, naturally, but her species is a wee bit magical, they have ways to get words. You'll see that in this.

Warning: mentioned past injuries

On with the fic!

--

All she ever did was ask questions, seems a bit of an overreacting to completely ban her from her home waters.

But Crowley had been too curious, and a bit too vocal about these curiosities. Why has it been decades since her people gone to land? Why do they not interact with humans anymore except to occasionally sink ships for food (which she's not a fan of, humans have a terrible texture to them)? Why can't she go back to shore? It's been so long, don't the gods want them to interact with their creations anymore?

The elders spoke with the gods on this, and the gods decided that Crowley was a problem.

And she was exiled.

She could never come back home, her waters were no longer for her, and when she tried to swim back into them, she was forced out. Quite harshly too, shot over a mile away by a strong undercurrent, it had been nauseating.

Any attempt to return resulted in the same way, forced expulsion.

She begged to come back, she had never been away from her people before, even back in the old days when they ventured onto land! She also kept close to fishing towns and ports, always near water, or near other members who used their legs as she had.

But Crowley was not heard, and she was alone in the ocean.

So, she left, and she swam.

She did not know how long she had swam for, so many moon cycles had passed. She did not find others like her, but had found other beasts of the waters she had never seen before. Monsters of massive sizes, hidden deep within the darkness of the ocean. They did not want her in their territories, or they wanted to eat her, she always made her escape.

The open ocean was lonely, and frightening. She needed to find a new home, maybe a new higher power that could help her. The gods certainly were of no help, no longer listening to her, not that they ever did. They always hated her curious nature.

Crowley went north, to colder waters. She had never gone north before, in the rare times her people left their home waters, they always went south. Warmer waters there, similar to home, but the north had always made her curious. What was up there?

Different sea life, for one, and she found shipping vessels both above the surface and below. She had seen ships like these before, in her home waters, trading vessels that went to the different human ports.

She had spoken to the humans who had sailed these ships before, after stealing their words. Oh, what were they again... English? Yes, they were English, from some island up in the north. She didn't recall the name of the island, it had different names depending on the different voices she took.

What a strange thing, an island with multiple names. Humans are an odd bunch.

Maybe she could find this island, see what's so interesting about it.

On her journey, Crowley had gotten caught up in a storm one night. It had been violent, the waves and currents pulling her too close to the surface, and in doing so, it allowed her to be caught.

She had found herself tangled in a trap, a net, with other fish that panicked like she had. The net had been pulled from the waters, and over the sounds of the storm, she heard the shouts of man.

She had been thrown against a hard surface with the other fish, and heard more shouts, this time of alarm and fear, of anger. In her fear and anger at being caught, Crowley remembered seeing the faces of different humans in the lights of a strange device, what was it called, a lantern? Yes, those things that hold fire.

She could see their frightening faces, shadowed by the swaying light in the wind.

One human was furious and screaming, pointing at her, holding up a strange looking item. She had seen humans wearing the odd little charm, shaped like two sticks tied together, it had been very popular in a few ports she had visited. Something about a human god.

The item was smashed into her face and she hissed in anger at this human daring to touch her. She clawed at his hand, and he screamed, blood coming from his hand. He yelled more and she tried to make her escape, turning her back to try and look for an exit.

But she cried out in pain when something cut across her back. Turning back, she saw a harpoon, it had been swiped across her back, shoulder to him. She screeched, a defensive attack, it would cause the humans to experience sickness and confusion.

She watched as the group dropped to their knees and hands, some being sick as her warning call rang over the sounds of the storm. Blood and salt had been so strong in the air, and Crowley was on high alert.

Then one human approached, looking unwell, but held up his hands in defense. His words did not sound angry, they sounded like they were comforting her, she didn't trust him, but he was unarmed. He looked easy to kill, a weakling, but he was brave to approach an injured creature like her.

She didn't know what he said, but he seemed to be ignoring the bleeding humans angry shouts. The weak human gently gestured for her to go over the side of the ship. She looked at him with caution before grabbing the railing and threw herself overboard.

Her back had burned when she hit the water and she didn't really remember much else as things faded for her.

When she woke up, it was early morning, and she was on a beach.

There was no sign of the ship, of the humans. The shore was rocky with high cliffs nearby. She could hear the sounds of the waves striking a cavern, a hiding place. Up on the cliffs was a strange structure, with a light spinning around in the early lights of the rising sun.

Crowley slipped back into the waters and went to the cavern, where she remained for days, trying to let her back heal. It had hurt, and she had a feeling that she hadn't had an easy drift to this beach when she had been unconscious in the water.

Best to stay hidden here, where it was safe. Even if there had been a moment where she had heard the sounds of young humans near the mouth of the cave. Crowley had tried her best to hide, she was never sure if they had spotted her or not. She remained hidden for a while after that, after the voices faded away.

After a few sunrises, Crowley left the cavern to explore the beach.

Only to stop when she saw a human at the shore.

She slipped behind some rocks, watching with caution. The human was not a man, this was a woman. She was, however, dressed like a man. Crowley may not have been around human society in a long while, but she remembered the female humans wore strange clothes that belled like jellies. Crowley had worn them before, when she stole them, she didn't like how complicated they were.

This human had long hair and wore those strange little glass things on her face, she seemed to be looking at something in her lap. A book? Yes, that's the thing, Crowley remembered those. Popular with humans, full of things she didn't understand, but there were images. She liked the images.

The human just sat at the shore, reading quietly, sometimes making soft sounds of surprise or excitement as she looked at the pages.

Crowley watched her for a while, not sure why she didn't turn away. The human wasn't doing anything important, but it was just... it was so different from what she normally saw humans do. Often, they were moving about, talking and shouting, doing all sorts of things that never made a lick of sense of Crowley.

They were also often fighting and roughhousing, they were always moving.

This one just saw quietly, seeming to be in her own little world.

And she was like this every single time she came to the shore.

Crowley watched her for days, sometimes the human would be alone with only the book, which sometimes changed, or she'd bring a basket and would eat from the contents inside, again with a book in hand.

And Crowley watched her every single time.

Some days the human would not be there, and Crowley actually felt disappointed and sad. Why should she? She didn't know this human, didn't even talk to her, not that she could.

Still, Crowley looked forward to seeing the human.

And today was no exception, there was her human, coming down to the shoreline, though there was no book in hand this time.

Crowley watched her, seeing that the human looked so upset as she looked over some pieces of paper. She had even cried a little, and Crowley felt angry.

Who would dare make her human cry?

Her human?

She pushed that thought away.

"Stop being ridiculous, Aziraphale." Crowley perked up, hearing the voice. "You should have known better."

The human was talking, but seemed to be addressing herself. Crowley watched her, what did she say? It was a name, right? A... Azira... fell?

Azirafell?

Was that her name?

It was pretty.

She watched her sit in the sand, looking over the papers again, before she put one away, then released the other one. Crowley watched as it moved about in the wind, before landing on the water, right near her.

She institutionally reached out, snatching it up. She sniffed it, angry at the letter, had this been what made Azirafell cry?

She tore at it with her teeth in revenge, then promptly spat it out. Disgusting!

"Hello?!"

Crowley remained hidden, but did peek, just a little bit, and saw Azirafell starting to walk along the long chain of rocks, heading right for her. She slipped lower into the water, making worried clicking sounds, clawing at the rock. What should she do? Should she swim away? Stay?

Crowley tensed up, was Azirafell calling out to her? She slipped behind the rocks, no, she shouldn't be seen, this would be bad! Right?

"Oh, oh please, don't hide! It's... it's okay!" The voice sounded worried, but didn't sound angry or threatening.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you." Azirafell said in such a sweet, soft voice. Crowley didn't understand a word of it, but she understood the tone.

She... she was going to stay.

She was going to meet this human.

She moved out of her hiding spot and looked at Azirafell.

Once, when she had been in an Italian city that seemed to float on water, Crowley had entered a building with beautiful glass images that shone in the sun. There was one of these images that contained a strange, winged human. A human had told her that this thing was called an angel.

The sun that shone above Azirafell made her glow like that image, like an angel.

She was beautiful.

And Crowley wanted her.

She moved fast, bursting from the water, and Azirafell was on her back, staring up at Crowley with such gorgeous eyes, like water before a storm.

Crowley grinned and leaned down, kissing those soft lips.

In her culture, to learn human tongue, the gods allowed her kind a special gift. A kiss could take words and they could speak the human's tongue, to a point. To take the tongue, you knew their main language. To take the breath from them completely, you never every language they knew.

A kiss was all Crowley needed, a simple, little kiss.

And she purred, pulling back to look at the blushing human under her.

"Angel." She said, smiling.

--

Crowley probably should have asked, but she doesn't know that's an option.

Also, she fell in love pretty quickly with Aziraphale but doesn't understand it. At least not yet, and when she does, she is going to try and court her. Mate! Mate! Human wife!

Shadwell is the one who tried to press a cross to Crowley's face, thinking she's a demon. Newt helped her escape.

#good omens #ineffable spouses #ineffable wives #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #john's drabbles

[aemiron-main]

Youre Part Of The Secret Squadron- Or Are You? Were Henry and Patty Actually Captain Midnight Fans? Is 7 Year Old “Henry” Brenner?

So, I talked in this post about some of the stuff re: the idea of Patty and Henry and Brenner somehow being mentally connected (and I also currently have another drafts in the works about it).

And now, I want to talk about Captain Midnight.

So, Captain Midnight’s story came in many forms, including the original radio show, a tv show, and a series of comic books.

And as we know, in TFS, Henry and Patty are both fans of Captain Midnight/they’re both “part of the Secret Squadron”.

However, their interest in Captain Midnight struck me as a bit odd- even though Patty asks Henry if he’s a “bit old” for Captain Midnight, I’m actually thinking that Henry and Patty might be a bit too young.

Why?

Well, the original Captain Midnight radio show only ran from 1938 to 1949. Whereas TFS Henry and Patty are 14, meaning they were born in 1945, making them 4 years old when the radio show ended.

And the TV show ran from 1954-1956, which IS more feasible for Henry and Patty but still a little odd.

And finally, the comic book series ran from 1942 to 1948- and Patty and Henry seem to be big comic fans based on their conversation about other comics + based on that opening scene of Mr Newby confiscating Patty’s comic- and while yes, the comics wouldve still existed in 1948, their run was over when Henry and Patty wouldve been 3 years old, so it’s not like it was a currently running comic series during TFS/it wouldnt have even been currently running when they were old enough to read.

And while it’s not at all out of the question for them to have been Captain Midnight fans, it’s just something that struck me as a little weird- Captain Midnight was a just little before their time. Especially since in-show Henry is never shown with anything related to Captain Midnight- there were lots of opportunities to give him a Captain Midnight comic, or to show him drawing Captain Midnight during that scene where he’s drawing with his crayons in the living room etc, but they never referenced it at all.

This also brings me to 7 year old Henry- we see him open up his Captain Midnight Spyglass on his birthday, and we see him do the Captain Midnight Salute:

However, like I’ve mentioned before, that little guy doesn’t look like Henry- his hair is DARK brown instead of blonde:

But he DOES look quite a lot like Brenner- the dark brown hair and the blue eyes, just like Brenner.

Especially when we look at 15 year old Brenner- look at 7 year old “Henry’s” hair, it’s slicked over in the same way that 15 year old Brenner’s hair is:

AND, they specifically showed footage of 7 year old Henry’s birthday- and they ALSO brought up Brenner’s birthday, his 15th birthday was the same day that Brenner Sr embarked on Project Rainbow.

AND, I talked in this post about all of the stuff in TFS that conflates Brenner and Henry.

AND, jumping back to Captain Midnight, Brenner being a Captain Midnight fan makes way more sense because a.) Brenner wouldve been born in 1929 and 15 in 1944, making him the perfect age for him to have grown up at the peak of Captain Midnight’s popularity, and b.) Captain Midnight was a WW1 pilot, and Brenner Sr was also involved in WW1 in addition to being involved in WW2 by the time TFS rolls around.

Brenner is the PERFECT candidate for being a Captain Midnight fan. And I’ve been wondering if that 7 year old “Henry” is actually 7 year old Brenner.

And considering all of that PLUS what I mentioned in the beginning of this post re: Brenner and Patty, and considering all of the simulation stuff with TFS and the fact that NINA involves memories, PLUS the fact that when I brought all this up on discord, James mentioned all this vs the fact that El seems to have possibly have some of Brenner’s memories in NINA, as during that scene where El runs down the hallway, there’s SO many similarities re: Brenner’s shots vs El’s shots.

Plus what I’ve been working on re: the moving dead bodies analysis + the fact that multiple of the closeup shots that El supposedly saw of the bodies are the same shots that Brenner saw:

Considering all of this, I’m wondering if Patty and Henry are Captain Midnight fans because Brennner’s memories re: Captain Midnight (and other memories) somehow ended up in their brains, especially considering the talk about how Henry and Patty are “connected,” versus Brenner constantly telling Henry to “connect”:

Brenner, were you the real Captain Midnight fan? Are Patty and Henry connected to Brenner’s brain somehow?

#stranger things #henry creel #patty newby #the first shadow #martin brenner