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#THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FROM EPISODE ONE
spnscripthunt · 11 hours
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The Supernatural Script Hunt came from humble origins, a handful of fans banding together to collect and preserve our fandom history, making as many scripts as possible accessible to fans worldwide. Since acquiring our first script over five years ago, and then branching out to involve so many fans supporting the work in the years since, it was always our intent to give it all back, and then some.
When we began this project, the fandom collectively had six scripts from five episodes and a single network outline. In the five years since we bought our first script to add to that collection, we are ending the project with a total of 163 scripts from 147 episodes, casting sides from 50+ episodes, 50+ call sheets, arenas from 18 episodes, and other related documents. A complete list of items in our collection is on the SupernaturalWiki, for a closer look, click here.
The time has come for us to offer everyone a final chance to own their very own priceless souvenir of the show and cast we all love so dearly. In doing so, we also want to honor the largest (hopefully!) legacy of our fandom: using our collective power for good. Which is why we're offering up some very special scripts (and a few other items!) in our collection in a raffle to benefit Undue Medical Debt.
Our goal is to raise at least $10,000 so we can erase at least one million dollars in medical debt.
How Undue Medical Debt Works:
You make a donation. They use data analytics to pinpoint the debt of those most in need: households that earn less than 4x the federal poverty level or whose debts are 5% or more of annual income.
Undue Medical Debt buys medical debt at a steep discount. They buy debt in bundles, millions of dollars at a time at a fraction of the original cost. This means your donation relieves about 100x its value in medical debt.
Together we wipe out medical debt. People across the country receive letters that their debt has been erased. They have no tax consequences or penalties to consider. Just like that, they're free of medical debt.
For every $10 you donate to Undue Medical Debt, you will 1) be erasing about $1,000 in medical debt and 2) be able to enter our raffle to win one of the items listed below.
Our Campaign Page
Our Raffle Site
Donated by Eric Kripke:
'Pilot' - "Original pilot that got tossed out -- whole different story -- enjoy this alternative reality Sam and Dean." To be signed by Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Sam Smith at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
2.22 'All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2' - Yellow Revisions. To be signed by Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
3.16 'No Rest for the Wicked' - Goldenrod Revisions. To be signed by Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
4.01 'Lazarus Rising' - Pink Revisions. To be signed by Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, and Jared Padalecki at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
4.22 'Lucifer Rising' - Production Draft. "My director's copy - rare! Enjoy!" To be signed by Jensen Ackles, Rob Benedict, Misha Collins, and Jared Padalecki at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
5.01 'Sympathy for the Devil' - Pink Revisions. To be signed by Jensen Ackles, Rob Benedict, Misha Collins, and Jared Padalecki at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
6.22 'The Man Who Knew Too Much' - Production Draft. To be signed by Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, and Mark A. Sheppard at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
Donated by Natalie Abrams:
Gotham Knights - 1.11 'Daddy Issues' - signed by show creator/episode co-writer Natalie Abrams. To be signed by Misha Collins at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024. Thank you @deanismybuddy (twitter) for making this happen.
Reproduction Scripts:
3.15 'Time is on My Side' - Production Draft signed by Jim Beaver at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024; Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki at Jus in Bello 14; to be signed by Steven Williams at Crossroads 8.
The Winchesters - 'Pilot' - 4th Network Draft signed by Jensen Ackles at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024; Richard Speight Jr. and Rob Benedict at Jus in Bello 14; to be signed by Jim Beaver and Alexander Calvert at Crossroads 8.
Gotham Knights - 'Pilot' - Pre-Production Draft signed by Misha Collins at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024.
Walker - 'Pilot Script' - signed by Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, and Richard Speight Jr. at Jus in Bello 14.
Walker: Independence - 'Pilot Script' - Revised Network Draft - signed by Jared Padalecki at Jus in Bello 14; to be signed by Mark Sheppard at Crossroads 8.
Other Signed Items:
Hardcover edition of Good Omens - signed by Neil Gaiman. Thank you to the staff at The Golden Notebook in Woodstock, NY for being extremely helpful and kind.
Family Don't End with Blood - signed by Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, and Jim Beaver
There'll Be Peace When You are Done - signed by Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Alexander Calvert, and Sebastian Roche
Hardcover edition of Death (2022) - written by Neil Gaiman, art by Mike Dringenberg, John Totleben, Mark Buckingham, and Chris Bachalo. To be signed by Lisa Berry at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.
"To Be Continued" t-shirt made and donated by @shitannamakes (twitter), signed by Jensen Ackles at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024. 
Dick Jr. and the Volunteers' "Fistfights and Hug-Outs" CD - signed by Richard Speight Jr. at JIB14
Rob Benedict "Leave The Light On" CD - signed by Rob Benedict at JIB14
"Saturday Night Special" CD - to be signed by Louden Swain at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024 [album is subject to availability at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024, it may be a different Louden Swain CD]
Autographed photos from Crossroads 8 [details TK, multiple winners]
Unsigned Items:
AFK pin designed by Phil Sgriccia in 2015 for Jared Padalecki, "only Jared had these pins unless he gave them to you" - donated by @slammtam
Supernatural 15 Seasons: The Crew Member's Souvenir
Supernatural: The Complete Series Blu-ray
Supernatural and AKF themed decorative pillar candles (six winners) - made and donated by @TheGreenCooler
Raffle closes on Sunday, June 30 at 11:59pm (EST). Winners will be drawn by a random number generator, we will submit the names to Undue Medical Debt's development staff to confirm the donations match the caps submitted to us on the Google Form, and we'll contact winners by Saturday, July 6 2024. Winners will have 72 hours to respond, and will be required to provide their physical mailing address and to cover the cost of shipping (for scripts it's currently $9.85 for priority mail insured inside the US, international rates and non-script rates to be determined as necessary). 
PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE AND WISH TO DONATE, PLEASE ENSURE YOU HAVE PRIOR AUTHORIZATION FROM CREDIT/ACCOUNT HOLDER.
As Castiel once told a patron of the Gas N Sip buying a lottery ticket, good luck!
Thank you to our con helpers, we never could have pulled this off without your help: abeautifulswan, AilesduSoleil, deanismybuddy, EmilieDK87, FangasmSPN, HanmeiCui, jennysun23, Julie_Fleming, KLFSPNcons, kreespa, kaurie_mac, marywinchstr, merenwen76AO3, MiaAW90, MysterioAmber, PurpleNurpleSPN, RMelton76, rowwyaboat, SDeeg13, shandataber, SuperWiki, zerbehunter
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beets · 14 days
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baby, bi bi bi
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panncakes · 2 months
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devotion
/dĭ-vō′shən/
noun
1. Ardent, often selfless affection and dedication, as to a person or principle. 2. Religious ardor or zeal; piety. 3. An act of religious observance or prayer, especially when private.
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hero-of-the-horn · 1 month
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Something something Orima not being able to perceive Suvi vs the beats of silence Steel heard from Suvi's childhood stories where she edited out Eursulon to protect him
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arsenicflame · 5 months
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so, this ones technically not a fix it because its still major character death but this is how i would tweak the canon story to give Izzy's death meaning and weight.
First of all, Izzy doesn't get shot by Ricky. The crew of the revenge may still be absolute rookies by Izzy's standards but even they know to take all the weapons off a hostage and unload any guns. Ricky still escapes and alerts the Navy, and our crew are running through the woods, down to the beach and Izzy is still falling back. For all his new prosthetic has helped his mobility immensely, its no good for running. Its clunky and dragging behind him and Ed and Frenchie and Jim and everyone keeps slowing down to make sure he's keeping up with them, but in doing that the navy are quickly catching up to all of them, they're being swarmed.
They break through the trees onto the beach, with more and more men coming up behind them. Izzy's struggling even more across the beach than he was in the woods, the hoof sinking in and sand shifting as he tries to run, and he stumbles. All the while Navy men continue to appear from all directions- and it hits him. That this is it. There's no way they will all make it out alive.
But he's Izzy Fucking Hands and even if he cant run anymore, he can still fight. He can fight for this crew, this family, these people who have given him so much, who have opened their arms to him when he was at his lowest, who have allowed him to feel free. He can still fight. He can buy them time.
So he turns, and draws his sword.
There was never any way he could win, of course. Even when he truly was the best swordfighter in all the Caribbean, fighting dozens of navy men at once would have been beyond him- but he can distract them, hold them off long enough the revenge sets sail. Its a glorious sight, one man against dozens, bodies falling around him as he holds them back. Its impressive to watch, and maybe, for a second, the crew allows themselves to hope. But then, he takes a cut to his sword arm, and another to his side.
And then he goes down.
But he goes down fighting.
Izzy Hands, who spent his whole life fighting dies that way too, fighting for the safety he spent his whole life searching for.
#i wanted to have jim hold a dinghy for him waiting to see if he could escape until the last second but i think they knew#that he would never try to escape if it brought even a chance of risk to them#its just. the season spends so long talking about who izzy is- hes revered in their community; he has a reputation; hes one of the best.#+ also showing the building of his relationship with the crew; learning how to be loved by them and love in return#he spends the start of the episode talking about how it's all for the crew for fucks sake why could we not see him die in defence of that?#using his proficiency at sword fighting to keep his family safe one last time#nyxtalks#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#our flag means death#izzy hands#israel hands#fix it#resurrecting my finale week drafts now im a bit less bitter#i wanted to put something in about the crew protesting; because obviously they would; but it fucked with the flow of the post.#and again. i think they knew anyway#this was his hill to die on#also- some thoughts on why he could fight but not run: a) its fiction#b) hes actively been practicing his fighting with his hoof; hes been learning to compensate for it on a rocking boat#he'll have a lot more instinct on how to balance when his footing isnt stable; from his history and from sheer dogged determination#the way hes practiced hes learnt to use the leg to his advantage; or at least work around its hinderance.#he uses his hoof as his balance; propelling himself with his good leg; and i think itd be pretty simple to translate this through to sand-#standing still and letting them come to you; only moving in ways you feel comfortable. this has been his way of life for so long;#hes probably fought with injuries before; if nothing else; he can always figure out how to fight. hes had to
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octoagentmiles · 1 year
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Try list any Octo-Agents and think of an Episode you Think give them a Shining Moment
W O O F this took a while– I was thinking long and hard about this because there are SO MANY good moments and episodes 😅, and so many agents– it was difficult, but I’m happy with my answers 👀
Ranger Marsh’s Shine Episode is definitely The Monitor Lizards. I LOVE this episode, it’s one of my favourites in the whole series so far—not just because of the events in it, but as a concept. I LOVE the callback to the Great Swamp Search!! I watched the 2nd season blind, and seeing all these familiar faces was SUCH a fun surprise. It’s good for Ranger Marsh as a character, because it actually shows him doing his job as a Ranger, not as an Octo-Agent. It also reinforces the fact that he truly cares for and is friends with these creatures, even if they are invasive, and that he's willing to travel to check in on them. This is another episode that also proves (to me) that the writers know they’re dealing with an older audience for the show, and are more likely to delve into solid lore and continuity. This episode makes me really hopeful for more of that.
Natquik’s Shine Episode, WITHOUT QUESTION, is The Red Fox. Honestly I feel like I don’t need to explain why, but I will because I like talking ✨: Natquik is my favourite Octo-Agent, but overall we haven’t actually gotten that many episodes dedicated to him yet. The Red Fox gives us a close and personal look into what Natquik is like by himself (I love episodes where characters are alone 👀), how he deals with problems (by ignoring them until they get worse—which is interesting... *stares at Barnacles*...), and even hints toward his family, by showing us his family portraits, and leaving us wondering, “Where are they?” – There are so many moments I love in this episode, from when he first discovers the kits, decides to help them stay warm, rushes to protect Barnacles, to his bittersweet goodbye at the end. It’s all so perfect.
Tracker absolutely shines in The Missing Lake. Honestly, he shines a LOT in Above and Beyond, considering he never got his own episode in the main series, and was only in Operation Deep Freeze for two scenes. AnB has been really good to Tracker, and I’m so grateful they decided to make him an Agent. The Missing Lake sticks out to me the most, because for the most part he is by himself (and I’ve already mentioned my love for that <3), and unlike all his other episodes, we get to really see him be responsible and use his Polar Scout skills in action. He’s often portrayed as a follower, who just goes along with whatever he's told to do, but he takes charge twice in this episode: when he offers to help Rowan, and when he stays behind to save Buck. Love that for him.
Calico Jack. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Calico Jack....... I could talk forever about this funky old cat man. He doesn’t just shine, he GLOWS in every episode he’s in—but alas, for the sake of this post I will be focusing on The Harlequin Duck. I love the showing of his gentle parental instincts in this episode, and his singing; since we know he canonically has a theme song, that I headcanon he wrote himself. I think far too much, and often, about how he legit panicked when he realized the egg was missing. How his first instinct was to hide that fact from Captain Barnacles. He was terrified, having a full blown panic attack on screen. He apologizes to the mother duck with such genuine solace, and promises to get it back “On [his] honour as a pirate!” ...Which is extremely significant to me, considering Kwazii was the first character to EVER say the phrase: “On me honour as an Octonaut!” in The Flying Fish after Inkling’s book was lost – and of course as a final touch, I adore seeing him work with Pete to get the egg back. The way he tosses the egg in the air, fully trusting that Pete will catch it... they’re so in sync, just as pirate and parrot are meant to be ;)
Paani... I feel like there’s so much more to him than what we’ve seen so far, it almost feels unfair to assign him a “Shine Episode”. So, instead of highlighting a single episode, I’ll quickly talk about three that stick out (PS: you might sense a theme 🤣):
The Barnacle Geese - Uncle Paani. I like the “I’ll be my own uncle” joke, and the Edgar Allen Poe reference. I think Paani’s determination to help the chick (who doesn’t seem to want help) is nice to watch, and helps to prove his worthiness as an Agent—which is always fun considering his hesitance when Barnacles tried to recruit him in S1E1. In a way, this episode also makes Paani seem more like Barnacles. See my old post analyzing the show’s intro. (*Stares at the episode title* 👁️👁️)
The Arabian Camels - Take a shot of cocoa every time I mention my love for episodes where characters are forced to be by themselves. This one is especially interesting to me though, because we know that Paani was alone, for a very long time, before he met the Octonauts. He has no trouble working and getting by alone, and we get to see him exhibiting that, while being out of his element (a dry desert) at the same time; and that’s really cool.
The Lonely Frog - ...Y’know how they constantly make the Octonauts/Agents meet creatures with similar issues to them? Yeah. *Stares at the episode title.* *Stares at the end scene where he says “Kinda like when I met you guys!” before obnoxiously jumping into the lake, in response to Shellington+Peso saying “They never even knew each other existed before! [...] and now it’s like they’ve known each other all their lives!”* *STARES MORE AT THE EPISODE TITLE,,* *wonders how long Paani was actually alone before becoming an Agent...*
Pinto, where art thou? He wasn’t in S2 at all, which was a bit disappointing since we just saw him get an Octowatch in S1. I would’ve expected him to be pressing that button every chance he got, giving us a “Penguin who cried Octoalert” episode. But anyway,, The Curious Penguin is the PERFECT episode for Pinto. It shows his personality really well, and I love how his distractions and the things he learns and discovers help him to save the day in the end. I think Pinto (just like Kwazii) is a good portrayal of ADHD, and how he just needs to be in the right environment to succeed. Each time Pinto messes up or loses focus, isn’t because he was left alone and couldn’t be trusted—it’s because he was left alone and understimulated. So when he’s thrown into a sudden high-stakes situation, all of his focus hones in on the moment, and he’s able to save Dashi and Paani by himself.
AND, because you didn’t say it had to be an Above and Beyond moment, I want to throw some love at The Oarfish episode from the main series. In this episode, Pinto no longer views Peso as “less” than an Octonaut, and is so excited to watch him do his job—it’s really cute!! His impulsivity is once again a positive thing—granted, it seems to annoy Peso a little, but when you think about it he kinda saved the day by being impulsive. He sounded the Octoalert without permission, which let the captain know to come back before their radio signal cut out, and by being unafraid of the “monster” and swimming outside, he was able to discover what the problem was so that Peso could help. He did good.
Pearl.... I love Pearl a lot, but I can’t think of one specific episode that comes to mind for her. I love The Pupfish because it introduces Peri to AnB, and I love how he teaches her how to tie a knot, so she can save the algae (and Glen). I like The Bison episode because it’s interesting watching her not doing something with algae for once, and The Pink Glacier because her and Kwazii’s dynamic was something I didn’t know I needed, but now I want more of (/p).
Ryla. Possibly controversial opinion: I liked Ryla in The Caves of Sac Actun, more than I like her now in Above and Beyond. I know she’s only gotten 3 episodes so far, but she’s really missing something. Sac Actun gave us lore on her right off the bat: she’s old friends with Dashi, she’s a skilled cave explorer, she’s spunky, she’s purple. AnB hasn’t given us much yet. So far her only shtick is caves, and that’s getting a bit repetitive. Consider every moment she has in Sac Actun as her “Shining Moment”, because honestly that whole movie is a 10/10.
Koshi,,,, she hasn't gotten that much yet, but I'm gonna say The Longfin Eels is her Shine Episode. I like the way she narrates the whole episode, because it's very in-character. Plus we know she’s literally writing about this adventure in her diary as she's telling it, as if it were a mystery book. She reminds me of narrators from 1920s film noirs, and that’s cool. Also! Honorary mention of the scene when she gets her Octowatch: I loved that for her <3
Min is below the cut, because my answer for her includes some very heavy SEASON 5 SPOILERS, including SCREENSHOTS:
All of Min's appearances so far are dear to my heart. However, my favourite has to be her own introductory episode: The Giant Chinese Salamander.
The Rainforest Rescue is another amazing episode for Min—she’s a wonderful character on her own, of course—but I think we can all agree that she and Inkling are very adorable together (no matter how you interpret their relationship).
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When Above and Beyond aired on Netflix, there was a lot of confusion around Min, from the younger audience and other fans who hadn’t seen S5. The Giant Chinese Salamander introduces Min with a 20-minute special; showing her in high-stakes action with Kwazii, bonding with the Octonauts, being an all-around Cool Person™, and a flashback of how she met Inkling when they were younger.
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She saved his life. He was thrown far inland by a rough storm, and was trapped until she found him. I honestly headcanon that Min partially (if not outright) inspired Inkling to form the Octonauts, and this moment could have literally sealed the fate of EVERYTHING we know.
But! Until S5 comes out, that's all I've got to say~ 👋💝
#i wanted to include screenshots for everyone's answers but there wasn't enough room and this post is big enough as it is 😅#so instead y'all get an essay jdhdjdks <33#octonauts above and beyond#octo-agents#about time i start using that tag lol#octonauts#am i going to one day make a giant analysis on cj in anb?? honestly maybe. there's so much there to talk about- i'm obsessed with him lmao#but it prbly won't be for a while#also. a message from future me when s3 is out: ''the natquik and tracker episode is amazing and a huge shine moment for both of them <3''#/hj#fun fact i started writing this post in an openoffice document xD i was comparing all the eps to try to figure out the best ones#long post#all paani's eps are s2 eps bc i rly wasn't sure how i felt about him in s1. but s2 solidified my love for him <3#hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i think a barnacles and pinto episode would be really good. thats all#the curious penguin is also a good episode for teaching kids that it's okay and good to be curious and ask questions!! love that about it!#kwazii is peak adult adhd rep and pinto is peak child adhd rep. thank you for coming to my tedtalk. /srs#hhhhgggggnn i love the cats so much. if we ever get more baby kwazii content you'll never stop hearing about it from me#please enjoy this post. i worked Really Hard on it /gen 💞🥹#this post has been in my drafts for 50 years goodness gracious. take it away from me 🤣#bonus answer for paani: i really like the secret beneath the snow--#specifically the scene where he puts himself in front of gus to protect him from ''wolves''#like. yo. /pos#it felt like something barnacles would've done yk? and that's fun :))#i love min. i started writing this post before s5's english release got announced and i was talking about how i wanted anb#to give us more min and inkling content so we didn't have to wait 74363832 years to learn more about them xD#but now I'm SO EXCITEDDDD#. so excited for You Guys to watch S5#bc I've seen it already and have been living in a constant state of restraining myself from giving spoilers–#cough.#TAG LIMIT REACHED HDHDBSBSJWBSUDBSJSJDHSH
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welcometogrouchland · 10 months
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What if I proposed the analysis that Belos actually has very little internal moral compass and that his veneer of righteousness has always been implied by the writers to be complete fabricated bullshit even before watching and dreaming basically confirms it.
#ramblings of a lunatic#^shes going in drafts untagged bc a) philip stans who insist on the morally misguided angle terrify me in their persistence#and b) i would have to actually rewatch episodes and whatnot#but i think i can build credence to the idea that him and caleb started off not invested in witch hunting for moral righteousness#but numb to it via cultural normalisation and THUS. had an amoral approach to the whole thing#and the only thing either of them as orphan outsiders ever really would've gained from witch hunting would've been careers and recognition#a sense that they're heroes- not in the moral sense but in the narrative sense. that they were protagonists#The Most Important Boys so to speak#the difference being Caleb at some point decided witch hunting was wrong (i.e like hunter did. grew a moral compass)#and philip still navigated the world amorally 400 years later only motivated by a petty grudge and deep buried guilt#the latter of which is nearly irrelevant to anyone who isn't philip bc clearly he priorities that grudge above it#this is just a personal petty opinion#but i honestly don't think the 'delusional and petty' angle is any less complex than the 'moral crusader' angle w/ his character#and it matches the whole 'hes a magic conservative' message way better than his motives being genuine#one day I'll rewatch that scene in WaD and see if Philip fans are onto something and I've been drinking the pond water#or if it's actually congruent with his character like I've since come to see it and like i know many saw it the first time round#anyway this is actually all for me. in drafts you go#edit: hi. it's the ladel of like. 3 weeks after i made this and put it in drafts. it's nearly 1 am rn and- in my delirium-#i have decided to publish it#i doubt it'll do much w/ regards to response bc fandom has been on the quiet side lately (tho that can always change(#plus I made a similar post insinuating the same notion and it got ZERO traction positive or negative#which tells me I'm good to just say shit for the most part (in a good natured way)#anyway. hits post cutely (i am so fucking tired)
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heffrondriving · 2 years
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💙🐟🌊 take a dip into the deep end ‘cause the water is fine! 🌊🐟💙
pretends i totally posted this just in time for mermay and didn't actually draw it last september (; ఠ ͟ʖ ఠ)
(vänta lookie i also found the original fishy as all marianas trench sketch *gets drowned for the bad dad pun* of this artwork on my sketchbook bloop bloop bloop~ (°)#))«)
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#hi hello pls have some silly big time mermaids!!! or mermaid time rush????#also YES i used a lyric from a vv inappropriate heffron drive song as the caption bc i can't find a good water-related btr lyric for it#hot summer just never fails to demolish my soul and give me good cardio at the same time...ken's cheeky vocals and lil shrieks + dustin's#jaunty guitar riffs and trumpets = instant dance party for days (why did ngyu's cardio in the morning lyric pop in my head ddhdhd help)#happy summer y'all!! although it's not really summer here anymore and thank god for that *glares at the torturous sun*#i think i said i wouldn't post any more bad art but fr this has been plaguing my drafts for too long so here is they ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა#this was a fun one to come up with;; the painting in itself was hell since the paper was shit and completely gave up on me after two layers#but i think it turned out pretty alright??? i haven't managed to draw another decent mermaid since which is butt bc i wanna draw more#mermaid (or ig mermen??? sounds weird though lol ew) btr >:'( actually i have this one plot bunny of mermaid kenlos where carlos is scared#of the deeper waters and kendall tries to help by showing him the beauty of the ocean and it's just gonna be cute asf but just a thought#also they should've been mermaids in the beach party episode tbh...james' side plotline was already there;;;;#n e way paper fail aside i rlly love the textures on this one :'> the bg is poor attempt at painting water sorry but oh whale 🐳 i tried#i gave james fabulous flowing hair and piercings to make him ✨extra✨ and carlos's shellmet!!!!! my fave detail ever!!!!! >w<#also idk how to draw anatomically correct bodies least of all half fish ones so pls excuse that as well oopsies#btr#big time rush#james diamond#kendall knight#carlos garcia#logan mitchell#art#drawing#traditional art#watercolor#nickelodeon#rusher#mermaids#mermay#can you picture this?#stop it forever
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yueebby · 4 months
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4:36am – gojo satoru
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synopsis. satoru is dying (he has a fever) and he needs his darling wife (you) to nurse him back to health 
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, even in sickness gojo can still flirt, he yaps a lot abt marriage and he’s kind of perverted, but he’s just so in love why dont you just give him one chance?
notes. i tried to make this very shoujo-esque. cant have a good shoujo anime without a fever episode!  this has also been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. enjoy yet another fic of me showering satoru with affection (sigh).
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the cold wooden floors of your dormitory creak underneath your waddling feet. your sleepy haze does not deter you from the strong desire for a cold glass of water.
surprisingly, the usual dark communal kitchen is illuminated by the small lightbulb inside of the fridge. you hear shuffling of some items from the white icebox, removing any ounce of sleepiness from you. it was unusual for anyone to be up at four in the morning.
a tuft of white hair peeks over the refrigerator door, giving the culprit’s identity away.
“satoru? i thought you were still on that mission in sendai?”
the sounds of digging pauses. satoru’s rises to his full height, towering over the rundown refrigerator door. he gives you a crooked smile that you rarely see. it’s dopier than one of his signature cocky smiles.
“missed me? don’t worry, i tried to speed run it since i knew i had such a beautiful woman waiting for me back home.” 
you placed a hand on your hip, scoffing at his pathetic attempts to flatter you. a snarky response was about to fall from your lips, but a series of painful coughs from the lanky male stopped you. 
you recoil back to avoid his germs. “gross. are you sick?”
satoru sniffles, pointing his nose in the air. the same nose that was starting to turn pink from irritation. “i can’t get sick. it’s physically impossible.” 
“don’t be stubborn, satoru. why didn’t you call for help?” 
he huffs, eyes trained to the floor. “it’s too early. shoko’ll kill me for waking her up.”
sometimes you forget that satoru had an image to uphold. he was the great gojo satoru, after all. 
but if you don’t take care of him, then who will? and despite your disdain at the thought of coddling his ego, it was only basic decency to take care of a fellow peer (or that was what you’d like to convince yourself).
silently, you place the back of your hand to his forehead. you’re not surprised by the warm sensation that you feel. 
satoru’s hazy eyes watch as you move your hand from his forehead to his cheek.
you purse your lips in concern. with the way satoru was stubbornly denying that he wasn’t sick, you were nearly certain that he was indeed not fine. without warning, you grab the collar of his white t-shirt and pull him to your room.
“at least take me out to dinner before~”
“shut it.”
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it wasn’t hard to get satoru to settle in your bed. in fact, he seemed giddy at the opportunity. while he was happy cuddling with your rilakkuma plushie, you came to two conclusions: either satoru had a wound from his mission that got infected, or he was simply sick.
knowing his pride, you lean towards the former.
the boy in question winces when you grab his shoulders to inspect the damage done to him. the sounds of furious pats and heavy breathing is the only thing you can hear over your rapidly beating heart as your hands run down his body to check for any injuries. satoru sucks in his breath when your hands cup his cheeks to loll his head to check for any damages done to that pretty face of his. 
his body tensing up doesn’t go unnoticed by you. your imposing hands immediately retract, afraid of inflicting any more damage on him.
“where is the wound?!” your frantic eyes meet his blissed out ones. 
satoru sighs happily, lazily grabbing your hands to bring back onto him,  “there isn’t one, this just feels nice.”
your chest angrily puffs up before you shove him into your soft mattress. he grunts, but you know it didn’t hurt.
“[name]!” he whines, rubbing the arm that cushioned his fall.
you cross your arms angrily, “you scared me!”
gojo mimics your actions, crossing his arms while weakly glaring at you. his efforts to intimidate you prove futile as he shivers uncontrollably, resembling a newborn kitten.
sighing, you delve into your closet, emerging with an oversized black sweatshirt that you toss to him.
he catches it with ease, a chuckle escaping while he inspects the sweater, “i never took you for the type to wear this.”
“....that’s not mine.” you give a nod in the direction of the men’s sweater. the sparkle of amusement vanished from satoru's eyes, coinciding with his jaw dropping.
his grip on the dark sweatshirt tightened while his head darted back and forth from you to the clothing item. “then whose is it?!” 
“suguru’s.”
you think that you’ve broken him when his face scrunches up in disgust. it’s laughable how his mouth had managed to stay wide open the entire time.
“sugu-suguru?!” he splutters. you slowly nod, careful not to make any sudden movements that could provoke him any further. “why– how– explain yourself!”
you cast an uneasy glance at the sweater, finding it challenging to summon any recollections of how you obtained it, especially with satoru's piercing cerulean eyes fixed on you. his scrutinizing stare has the power to reduce you into a puddle.
“well? go on,” he urges you when you stay silent. 
“it’s nothing, really. i believe it was from that mission i had with suguru a while back. somewhere up north. i had packed light and suguru offered me his sweater.” you tap a finger on your chin to recall the memory. “i guess it just slipped my mind to return it.”
“slipped your mind, huh…” satoru sniffles before letting out a sneeze loud enough to wake up japan. you nearly jump out of your skin.
“suguru was just being friendly… and be quiet! yaga will have our heads if he finds you in the girls’ wing!” you warn the weary boy in front of you, prompting him to respond with a dramatic sigh.
“how mean!” he whines before making a pained expression. you quickly rush to his aid. when you make it to his bedside, satoru weakly hands you a clean tissue.
you stare at it blankly.
“be a darling and help me blow my nose?” he gestures for you to hold the tissue up for him. all you can hear are muffled whines when you shove him underneath your plush covers. 
when your flurry of attacks ends, he cautiously lifts his head from beneath the sheets. to his surprise, a steaming bowl of bitter melon miso soup is presented to him. while the broth isn't your personal favorite, shoko appreciates its bold flavor, spurring your decision to prepare it the night prior. despite its bitter components, the concoction had a perfect track record of treating illnesses. you have your brown haired friend to thank.
perhaps it was cruel of you to take enjoyment while he eyes the bowl in horror. you know his sweet palate couldn’t handle it.
he looks up at you with big pleading eyes while shaking his head. you roll your eyes.
“c’mon, it won’t kill you.” the bowl inches closer to him by your doing. “please?”
satoru's pallid complexion contorts into a hesitant frown. "i’ll eat it…” he concedes reluctantly. however, his gaze lingers on the bowl with a mixture of uncertainty and reluctance. you respond with a hopeful smile, but it fades when he adds, "on two conditions."
“this is for your own health, not mine satoru.” you remind him.
“doesn’t it pain you to see me suffer?” he brings up, eyes glittering in the darkness.
you suck in a breath. “...not really.” lie.
“you wound me, love.” he clutches his shirt like he has been critically hit. 
you bite your lip, tired of his theatrics. “what are the two conditions?”
just like that, gojo comes back to life.
“condition number one! you have to feed me.” he points one finger into the air, paired with an innocent smile. “and two: i want you to warm me up like that night in our first year.”
an unflattering appalled expression is cast over your face. no words leave your mouth for a good minute. “y-you’re disgusting. why are you the way you are?”
“love,” he sighs. “anyways, what kind of wife wouldn’t feed her husband while he’s dying?”
“satoru,” you warn. he was starting to babble nonsense again. “if i accept your conditions, will you shut up?” your eyes were starting to feel heavy. it was the middle of the night, after all.
he nods fervently.
carefully with the bowl of soup in hand, you gently squish yourself next to satoru on your full sized bed. the tight fit left you little room to move, forcing the two of you to nestle closely to each other. with a gentle maneuver, you rest your head on his chest. his arm slowly drapes itself protectively over your shoulder.
“your heart is beating awfully fast.” you whisper, tilting your head upward to take a glimpse of satoru’s feverish face. his breath hitches.
he takes a hand and holds your head back onto his chest to prevent your movement.
“shut it. i didn’t think you would actually accept my conditions.” he mumbles.
“don’t get used to it. this is another moment of weakness.”
you stir the spoon in the broth, basking in the silence of the night, save for satoru’s erratic heartbeat.
“this is very intimate isn’t it?” he gushes. “it’s almost like we’re married—”
“keep your side of the deal,” you remind him, lifting a spoonful of broth up to his mouth. satoru looks straight into your eyes as he opens his mouth to receive it.
his adam's apple bobs when he swallows, “i’m going to tell our grandkids that we were written in the stars.”
you shove another spoonful of soup into his mouth.
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extra notes
satoru magically recovered from his fever the next morning.
his second condition (for you to warm him up like that night in your first year) refers to this fic from earlier on in the series.
satoru also made you promise to never accept another hoodie from suguru. if you needed one, satoru was more than willing to give you his! (you halfheartedly agree, only because he was acting all delirious because of his fever).
as of right now, there have only been three occasions where satoru has fallen asleep in your presence. he can testify that those were the best nights of sleep in his life.
shoko went into your room for a spare pair of stockings the next morning only to find you tucked into gojo’s chest. she chases him out of your room all while calling him a pervert . bless her heart.
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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months
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Idk if this is too broad of a scope for this blog, but if you could answer this, it'd be great.
I've been in a writing rut since I started getting serious about writing, and I've identified the issue in the past month or so: I slant heavily on the gardener end of the writing spectrum and all the advice on writing I've ever seen was for architect-style writing. Not once in the eight years I've been serious about writing did I find any guides on gardener-style writing (and if it says it's gardener-style, it'sreally just architect-style with gardner aspects), and my experience has just been more or less jamming a square peg into a circle hole, getting nothing written and feeling bad about it.
Now I'm unlearning all the architect-style habits that are destructive to me as a writer, but I can't find any resources for gardeners aside from Stephen King's On Writing. If you or any of your followers know how to help a gardener's writing, that would be great. I have so many fic ideas I want to write, but can't since I'm learning to write all over again.
For those who don't know what gardener and architect refer to when it comes to writers, a gardener is a writer who starts with the seed of an idea and lets it grow in whatever direction the light shines. They prune it and weed it as they go but otherwise let the idea lead the way. An architect, on the other hand, plans their stories out first and then writes them. They have a structure and the details all mapped out first and then the writing is just executing on that vision.
As a gardener myself, my biggest piece of advice is to avoid writing advice. Like you've said, the majority of it is aimed at people who do things like plan and plot and worldbuild ahead of time. Because of the structure that that writing style enjoys, providing "one size fits most" writing advice works well for it.
I tend to find a lot of that advice to be counter to what I need to do. Planning a story out ahead just makes me feel like it's already written. Building out the world before I start writing it feels like a hollow exercise - more like writing an encyclopedia than developing a land and culture for my characters to inhabit.
What I find useful is taking an episodic approach to writing. The entire story will be like a season of a television show and each chapter is like one episode. I always have my eventual "season finale" end goal in mind, but any particular chapter can meander closer to or further from that goal. It's alright to take a circuitous route, as long as I get to my destination in the end.
It's also alright if my destination changes as I'm writing. Sometimes those meandering paths take me in a more interesting direction than I was originally going down, and that shifts the story. As long as you're vaguely following a three-act structure (or 5 act or 7 act), the flow of it will feel familiar to your readers and they probably won't really notice it happening.
This advice I'm giving might not ring true to you either. You didn't have a specific problem to address, so I've been wandering a bit in my reply. Really what it comes down to is paying attention to yourself and your needs. Figure out what it is that keeps you writing and what it is that makes you stop. Do more of the former and less of the latter - and don't worry if what you're doing is "weird" to someone else.
I write directly into the AO3 window (which AO3 specifically tells you NOT to do, btw) because drafting first in google docs or something takes the fun out of it for me. I post my chapters without previewing them first. I write in 800 to 1500 word sprints, and I focus on dialogue, and I almost always try to end on a joke or a pun or a cliffhanger. These are all things that make writing an activity that I want to do.
I can't really say anything much more specific given your ask, but I hope something in here was helpful. Let's see if any gardeners out there have some resources or advice that might work for you.
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sweetiecutie · 2 years
Text
Dating Tom Marvolo Riddle
Warnings: NSFW, possessiveness, toxicity
A/n: sorry for the long absence babes! I’m in my depressive episode again, but I finally managed to finish those hc’s, they’ve been in my drafts for ages🙄. Anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it💖
Even though Tom never expresses his attraction toward you verbally, you can still see just how much you mean to him through his actions. His love is all about the small gestures like fixing the askew collar of your shirt, sharing his notes if you have difficulties in some classes, making sure that you eat enough etc.
You’re the only one who can actually touch him. Of course, teachers, especially Slughorn, often give Tom encouraging pats on the back or shoulder, but only you are allowed to touch his skin. To play with neat waves of his dark hair, brush your fingertips against Tom’s cheekbones in endearment, interlock your fingers while walking down school halls together. Only you
Tom is very possessive, not only with treasured magical objects, but also with you. He wants everyone to know that you are his, his and his only. Most of the time one of his hands rests securely around your shoulders or waist, keeping you as close as possible, glaring down at anyone who looks at you longer than a few seconds
Because of said possessiveness Tom is almost always by your side - you sit together in all your shared classes, and if it happened that he doesn’t take one of the subjects that you do, he has his devoted followers to be right beside you instead, making sure that no ‘unreliable’ people from your class are in near proximity to you. Outside of classes - you’re almost always seated on his lap. In the common room, courtyard, library - everywhere. He especially loves it when you sit on his lap during his privat meetings in the Room of Requirements - him sitting in the head of a long table with you cuddled up into his side, surrounded by his followers listening resolutely to every word he says. It gives him such a sense of power, having not only all of his minions, but also you - the only person he loves - at his complete mercy
Every one of Tom’s followers knows better than to talk to you, unless you are the one who starts conversation. And god forbid them being anything than polite and friendly to you.
Casual dominance? Yes, Tom is all about that. He likes it when you submit to his orders, no matter how small and trivial they are. “Darling, finish your tea, you need to warm up after a walk” or “Go to bed now, it’s too late” or “Put your book down, you’ve been reading for too long. Let your eyes rest”. And it angers Tom so much when you disobey, he wants what’s best for you, why can’t you see that? Most of the conflicts you guys have are actually caused by that, because you too don’t like being pushed around like a small child
Talking about conflicts - it is extremely hard for Tom to admit that he’s wrong, so if conflicts do occur between you two, Tom makes it look like you are the guilty one (even if you’re not). So yeah, he’s still a bit toxic, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it within himself
NSFW ahead!
Despite popular opinion walking around this mesmerizing platform, I don’t think that Tom sleeps around with every person he deems attractive. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll be his first (and only) sexual partner, even despite all the girls and boys almost throwing themselves on him in hopes of getting at least one touch
WILL👏FINGER👏YOU👏LITERALLY EVERYWHERE👏 Okay but this man has absolutely no shame when it comes to his lover (meaning you). Plus points if you’re in public place like library or classroom, and god, is he cocky. “You gotta be quiet, yeah? Don’t want other people to hear how much of a slut you are, do we?” all while his long slender fingers make their way up under your skirt, past the elastic of your pretty panties, and all you are left to do is to spread your legs a bit wider for Tom, and try to be as quiet as possible. And oh, don’t forget to take notes, you’re still in a middle of a class!
NOT into daddy kink. Being an orphan, even the word ‘dad’ itself feels strange, wrong even for Tom, so if you want to call him daddy - expect him to freak the fuck out. But if you’re into names he’d love it if you call him ‘sir’ or ‘master’, it gives him sense of power and authority over you
And while we’re on this topic - you’re called everything BUT your name in bed. Tom loves calling you names - whore, slut, fucktoy, darling, sweetness, princess - all that stuff. And oh, when he mixes praise with degradations, all while fucking you absolutely stupid *sighs dreamily*. “What’s that dollface? Is it too much for you? Can this slutty cunt take no more of my cock inside, hm? Stop pretending sweetheart, I know how much of a greedy whore you are, so shut the fuck up and take it”
Definitely will pin you against the wall as he towers over your smaller form, one hand resting next to your head while the other one cups your face gently, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while whispering the filthiest things ever, making your panties soaking wet in a matter of minutes just by using his words. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? Walking around in that short skirt, swaying your hips like that. Think I didn’t notice, hm? I’d love to see those hips swaying while you ride my cock, what do you think about that?”
Even though Tom expects full obedience from you, he still likes it when you get a bit bratty. When you comply with every one of his orders, but there’s still something mischievous and coquettish about your behavior - naughty little comments slipping off your tongue here and there, and then you are batting that pretty doe eyes up at him, as if it wasn’t you saying all those things. “Moan louder” he orders in a strained voice, hips snapping into yours with loud smacking sound. “Fuck harder then” you quip back, sly smirk curling your lips at the sight of Tom’s perfect eyebrows pulling together in a frown. Your small giggle dies in your throat as man pulls out of you, just to slam his cock all the way back into your pussy, making your body jolt forward with the ferocity of the impact. Want it harder - you get it harder
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, they inspire me on creating even more content for you💖
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fanficimagery · 3 months
Text
Violent Little Thing
To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.
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Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.
Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.
When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.
The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.
You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.
Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.
Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.
It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.
You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.
Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.
As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.
The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.
When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.
It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.
You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"
The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."
Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"
"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."
You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."
"Juice."
"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"
"Yeah."
You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."
"Forreal?"
"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."
"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"
You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.
As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."
"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."
"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"
Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.
"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."
You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.
"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."
"That's because it is just me here."
"Why Charming?"
You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"
All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.
"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.
Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."
Tig snorts. "And the real story?"
You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."
Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.
"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.
You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."
"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.
You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."
The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.
"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.
"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."
"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."
"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"
Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"
"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"
"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."
"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."
"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."
The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.
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Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.
Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.
In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.
One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.
Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"
With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"
You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."
"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"
Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"
"Little after five."
"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"
"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."
"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."
His lips twitch. "Worth it."
. .
. .
It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.
One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.
The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.
And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.
Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."
"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.
"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"
"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."
"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"
"Anything and everything."
"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."
. .
. .
The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.
The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.
You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."
"Friends don't stake claims."
"We're possessive friends."
Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.
From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.
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The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.
Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.
"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.
"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"
When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"
"She's my baby sister."
"Oh hell…"
"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"
"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"
"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."
At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."
"What about Juan or Happy?"
Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"
"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."
"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"
. .
. .
When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.
"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.
"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.
"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.
"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."
You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."
"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.
You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.
Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.
"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"
"Fuck. Off."
"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."
"Don't you fucking touch her."
When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"
Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."
That causes all three men to laugh some more.
"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."
You tense. "I don't know anything."
"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."
You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."
"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"
And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.
You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.
The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.
"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"
"Yeah."
"They desperately wanna come out to play."
"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.
Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."
The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.
Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.
As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.
The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.
The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.
The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.
Thwack.
Thwack. A scream.
Crack!
"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.
YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.
The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.
"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."
Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"
"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."
Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.
"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.
Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."
As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.
Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."
It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.
When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"
"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."
Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."
You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.
"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."
You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."
One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."
Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.
It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."
"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.
"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.
Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.
When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.
As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."
"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."
You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.
"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"
You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"
"Fuck no."
"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."
Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."
"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."
Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."
You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.
His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."
Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.
"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."
He grunts. "Agreed."
You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.
"Fuckin' tease."
"You started it."
You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.
"You gonna want something to eat?"
"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."
"Alright."
Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"
"What?"
"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"
"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.
You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."
"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."
"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"
Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.
"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."
"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.
"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."
All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.
"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"
"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."
As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.
"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"
You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."
"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"
Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.
Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."
"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.
"I'm not-"
"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."
"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."
"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."
"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."
Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."
"You know it."
Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.
"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.
Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."
"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.
You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.
You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.
Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.
As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"
He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"
The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…
"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.
"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.
"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"
"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."
"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."
Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."
You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.
Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."
Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"
Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."
Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.
Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.
"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.
"Does that freak you out?"
"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."
Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"
"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."
"Above my dick, you mean?"
"Mhmm."
Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."
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leupagus · 3 months
Text
Guys I Might Have Three Nickels
I've been watching "Agatha Christie's Marple" for the past few days and it's pretty good! Marple adaptations all tend to have a better caliber of actors than a lot of bog-standard mystery shows (looking at you, "Madame Blanc"), and while Joan Hickson's Marple is right up there with David Suchet's Poirot and Jeremy Brett's Holmes as "literally can never be beaten, these are the best anyone's done it," both Geraldine McEwan and Julia McKenzie do a fantastic job as Miss Marple.
Then I got to "The Secret of Chimneys," Season 5 episode 2
and guys
Guys
So there's a murder of a viscount, like there is, and this detective Finch rolls up and immediately spots Miss Marple (in her NIGHTIE! standing at the window like some kind of hussy, honestly Jane) and doffs his cap to her with that little smile that makes you go, "huh."
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At this point I've watched a couple dozen Miss Marple episodes where she goes through detectives like wildfire and this guy's supposed to be a "*guru*" so I'm expecting some battle of the egos or something and like, Stephen Dillane is great! But bleh, I might have to skip this one.
Then my dude asks Miss Marple to SHOW HIM THE BODY, with a pleased little smile at her as she goes "uhhhhhhhh but my knitting?" (He even does that thing where you use someone's honorific and wait for them to give you their name, and that's when I was like "ohhh this bitch knows exactly who she is.") What follows is what I can only describe as a meet-cute in the secret passageway where the viscount was shot (and in fact the body is STILL THERE) and where Miss Marple literally asks the police equivalent of "is there a Mrs Finch" and he looks at her like this:
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At which point I'm like "ohhh my dude not only knows who she is, he deliberately came here without a sergeant so he could draft her," and sure enough he just starts...handing her pieces of evidence like "hey babe can you decipher this note for me thanks love you" while Miss Marple is like, "this approval and camaraderie coming from a cop... not sure if want."
Next is a series of romantic strolls through the gardens while they discuss murder, during which Finch reveals his undying love I mean his research into Miss Marple and the "dozen case files" of her previous exploits that he's collected like some deranged fanboy. Miss Marple responds to this by BLUSHING LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL and stammering about how pish tosh it's nothing really, and I couldn't find a gif of it but he's staring at her like this:
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Yeah I bet u r tempted
He also makes a half-hearted attempt at negging her "amateur sleuth" status, only to then immediately assure her that he makes like, so much money being a big fancy detective and can keep her in all the yarn and garden seed she could ever desire.
There's also a late-night tryst at the compost pile right after Finch has been (mildly) poisoned and Miss Marple is like "men are so weak" as she roots through the garbage for clues.
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Not how he wanted their first date to go D:
The next morning there's another murder which: bummer, but also allows the two of them to read love letters together and for Finch to give Miss Marple the following look as she explains how secret assignations among lovers can "quicken the ardor":
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Miss Marple then goes onto solve the murders and btw hands over the priceless diamond that's been literally missing for two literal decades that she found in her spare time. The entire scene features Finch looking at her like this:
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After the dust settles, Finch and Miss Marple have a lovely moment where he calls himself "another one of your casualties," then super casually mentions that he's probably going to have to go on assignment to use the diamond in a daring international espionage case and I can't decide if he's asking Miss Marple to go with him or simply trying to show her that he is cool and smart and would make an excellent wife, but either way the episode ends with her turning him down and Jane, we need to talk about your priorities.
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Anyway I've already written 2K about the subsequent 10-year epistolary romance these two have following this episode because I make poor choices.
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akumakosuke · 3 months
Text
T.w: Subbot Amab Kento Nanami x Topdom Amab reader. Breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink (kinda), multiple orgasms, creampie, praise, degradation, cock warming, feminization (calling Kento's hole a pussy), fluffy aftercare.
P.s this has been in my drafts forever!! I completely forgot about it until someone reminded me!
I'm actually going feral right now.
I watched the new episode of JJK last night and good lord MAPPA fed me a full course meal drinks included.
Did you see my husband's looking all sexy and oh so fucking breedable?
I'm writing a separate post for Toji, someone sent me a request for breeding Sugar baby Toji and I'm working on it, this is all about my love, my darling, my glorious Nanami Kento. (I still have the Toji one in the works)
Like most men I crave I literally want to marry Nanami and make him my house husband.
I want to just keep him at home (full of my cum) and take care of him, provide for him mind, body and spirit. I want to make him feel safe, loved, cared for, appreciated, needed and genuinely wanted.
I want to come home from a long ass day of running a huge company, completely exhausted and wanting nothing more than my big strong man in my arms.
I would open the door and immediately be woken up by the most amazing smelling dinner and most importantly a fresh loaf of Kento's favourite thing ever, bread.
I would feel all the tension, anger and tiredness melt away as I closed the door, finally got to take off my shoes and coat.
I would place my bag down and when I look up it would be as if God themselves came down to this meaningless float rock we call Earth and blessed me, a nobody with an Angel of my own.
He would stand there in all his glory, his broad shoulders that seem to relax in my presence, those huge pecs that always seem to fit perfectly in my hands, that slim waist that I know for a fact is still bruised from last night, those muscular thighs that could definitely crush my skull, those veiny hands that used to be so dangerous, he hated that, hold me with such gentle touches.
I would smile and he would try not to, as usual keeping up with his ‘i'm always serious because I'm mature’ act that he puts on as a facade, he and I both know he's just a big softie that genuinely cares about his friends and will do anything to protect them.
I would say something cheesy like “Honey I'm home.” with a smirk because I know he hates those dumb romantic comedies.
His smile would instantly fade and he would roll his eyes and mumble “Idiot.” and walk away.
I would laugh and follow him inside, then with a teasing tone say something like “You're supposed to say ‘Welcome back Dear.’ and then kiss me.”
He would ignore me as usual and change the subject “Go wash your hands they're filthy and I baked a new type of bread, the lady at the bakery gave me the recipe.”
I would come out of the bathroom with freshly washed hands and take a seat at the dinner table and say something like “Yeah, smells good hun.”
He would hum in acknowledgement he's listening and bring over the delicious food he cooked and his new bread then place them on the table.
Then he would stand over me with his hands on his hips causing me to -on not normally casual settings- look up at him in confusion.
He would then place an arm on my chair and turn it, making me fully face him and I would happily admire the view.
He's wearing grey sweatpants and a black swear shirt with that cute pink apron I bought him that says kiss the cook.
I would smirk knowing he only wore that because his normal plain black aprons mysteriously disappeared when the pink one showed up.
He would then tangle his thick hands in my hair, suddenly tugging on it and making me groan in pain, the action immediately makes blood rush to my dick.
He would force me to look up at him and with that ever so stern expression say something fucking hot like “Now that you've washed your hands, didn't you read the apron?”
Then he would give me no time to respond as he leans forward and roughly captures my lips in a heated kiss.
I would easily give in and let him do what he wants, this always happens. In the beginning Kento takes charge, he knows exactly what to do to get me hard enough to fuck his pretty brain dumb.
Kento is a smart man, he knows how to get what he wants. He knows what he's doing when he straddle my lap.
Those thick thighs would flex around mine, squeezing me as his crotch 'accidently' grinds against mine.
He would tighten his grip on my hair, bringing his other arm around my shoulders and deepen the kiss, mumbling a fake apology, as if he doesn't want me to fuck him.
My hands would instinctively find his waist, I would say something like “Don't apologize love, take responsibility Kento.” then I would squeeze his waist and grind his plump ass on my fully hard dick.
He would moan and kiss me deeper, then he would start to roll his hips without my help. The friction from the fabric against our hard length sends shocks of pleasure through our entire bodies but it's not enough.
Then while Kento would be kissing me, his hand around my shoulder would travel down my chest and tug at my belt. Kento would let out a needy and frustrated grunt when my belt doesn't come off instantly.
He's not fucked out enough to be whining in desperation, no I'll have to work hard and drain those beautiful sounds out of him.
One of my hands would quickly travel to my belt, undoing it with ease. Then I would undo his belt, neither of us breaking the ruthless kiss or grinding.
We would unzip each others pants and I would easily lift both of our weights and slip my pants and boxers off, Kento would stand and take off his pants and boxers.
We would groan into the kiss as the cold air of our house brushes against both our erections, both our lengths hard already leaking bits of precum.
Both of us are still sensitive from last night/ this morning but we can't get enough of each other, it's like a drug it turned into an addiction..
It's not just fucking, it's the intimate act of sex, exposing yourself, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and connect on a level more than just our bodies.
He would straddle my lap again and his hand would waste no time and start pumping our lengths against each other.
The only sounds would be our aggressive kiss and the slick sound of Kento fisting both our lengths together with the aid of our pre.
My hands would dig into his fleshy ships, god the muscle will feel hard like marble but his skin would be soft like a fucking cloud.
He would moan into the sloppy, open mouth kiss and I would devour each and every honey dipped noise that falls out of his pretty little mouth.
My huge dick would be throbbing against his, his own length is an impressive 7 inches mine about 3 inches bigger.
It's not a big difference but my baby Kento is a big boy, I would just be a bit bigger but strong enough to pick him up and fuck him till he can't walk anymore.
Then Kento would lift himself off my hips and align my dick with his already prepped hole, then he would waste no time and slam himself back down on my entire length.
Fuck, his hands would instinctively latch onto my hair for some stability, loud moans and pretty whimpers would fall out of his mouth like a waterfall straight from heaven.
My hard length would twitch in pure bliss, surrounded by his soft, velvety walls, sucking me in and holding me hostage with a vice like grip, no matter how many times we fuck he's still as tight as a fucking virgin.
My tip would be poking and prodding at Kento's prostate dead on causing him to cum just from impaling himself on my dick.
Kento's thighs would flex around mine, his hole would tighten and he would pull my hair back, detaching from my lips just for his jaw to go slack and his toes curl as thick ropes of cum spurt out of his red rip, onto both our chests.
Kento would have a fucked out expression, his brain already fuzzy from cumming just once, his eyes would glaze over with tears, he's always been a cryer during sex, not that I'm complaining fuck I love it when he cries.
Kento doesn't cry about anything, he hates crying, the only time he cries is when he's too fucked out to think straight.
The pride of a cumming, crying Kento would straight to my dick as my grip on his hips tighten, bringing him back to reality.
Kento's vision would start to focus on me and he would see a devious smile, to anyone it would look sweet, loving almost but Kento knows it's anything but.
“Did you just cum?” I would ask in a mocking tone, bucking my hips up suddenly sending shocks of pleasure through Kento's body as more pathetic ropes of cum would spurt out from his still hard dick.
He would moan and try to shake his head, his grip on my hair would loosen and his hands would drop to my shoulders, fat tears would stream down his face as he would attempt to apologize “N–No! Fuc-k ’m s-sorry! Sorry~ AHH ah~ nghh~ s-sorr– ah ah ah– sorry.. ’m sorry~ ngh~”
He would mumble out his thoughtless apology, leaning down and kissing my neck, sucking, licking and biting as an attempt to make up for his transgressions.
I would scoff knowing his apology means nothing and let him keep mouthing at my neck, I would ignore my aching dick, it feels like my dick is gonna melt, it's so good.
I would lean in a pepper Kento's neck with gentle kisses, giving him a false sense that i'm not going to punish him then I would say something reassuring like “It's okay love, you don't have to apologize.”
He would continue sobbing and marking my neck, switching to 'thank you's' instead of 'sorry', his eyes would widen when he feels my smirk against his neck and my hands lifting his hips, slowly pulling out my dick inch by inch making him whine.
I would press my lips just below his ear and whisper “Just be a good husband and take your punishment~.” then without warning slam him back down on my length making both of us moan.
Kento would let out a high pitch moan, his body slumping forward, his head resting against my shoulder, his fingers tangling in my hair as tears streaming down his pretty face, his toes curling as incoherent and broken moans fall out of his mouth as I lift him up and slam him back down on my length over and over again.
I would groan as his hole suck's my entire length in every time I pull out till just the tip and slam him back, his warm, wet gummy walls would fit my entire length perfectly, the perfect cock sleeve and he's all mine.
That very thought would make me go crazy as I tighten my grip on his hips and slam him down once more, my tip prodding his prostrate dead on making his head fall back as his jaw falls slack and a strangled moan tries to escape his lips but no sound comes out. Fucking glorious.
“Fuck– such a good slut- taking all of me without complaining, such a whore, my whore~.” I would groan out, rutting my hips upwards so the tip of my cock massages Kentos prostrate, making his brain completely switch off.
“AH~! FUCK- NGH~ MMMHM~ C-CAN'T~! T-too mUch~! S-So gooood~! Ah~ FUCK- P-please~! Wanna CUM! P-PLEASE GOD! LeMme cUm~! WAnNa cuM~ PLEASE SIR~! F-fill me up~! FUCK PLEASE FILL ME UP~!” Kento would mindlessly whine, desperately pleading for release, his large hands clawing at my back as he rock his hips against mine, trying to push himself over the edge but because I'm a cruel bastard I wouldn't let him cum so easily, especially after he came the first time without permission.
Besides cock sleeves don't get to make requests, even if he did ask nicely.
I would snicker, looking at his flushed, desperate fucked out face, eyes rolling to the back of his head, face flushed dark shades of red, sweat glistening across his beautifully bruised skin, his mouth moving spilling an endless stream of pleas for release.
He would be too fucked out to notice one of my hands leaving his hips, only registering the movement when my big, rough hand takes ahold of his leaking shaft, the calloused feeling of my hand on his rock hard, oversensitive dick would send a jolt of electricity down his spine and his eyes with snap open.
He would have cum right then and there if it weren't for the fact my hand is squeezing the base of his dick, hard, making it impossible to actually cum but that doesn't dampen the sheer shocks of pleasure from racking his brain, causing a pathetic whimper as his dick twitches and he has a brain melting dry orgasm.
“Ah~ fuck! Look at you! You're squeezing my dick so fucking tight! Mhm~ good fucking boy! So desperate to milk my cock dry huh? Fuck~! You want it? You want my seed deep inside you-? Fuck, gonna be my cum dump? Yeah, yeah you're my fucking cum dump~! M’ gonna breed you full~! Gonna let daddy take care of you hmm? Let me fuck my cum so deep in that tight pussy~? Imagine how fucking good you'd look stuffed full of my cum~! Gonna get you fucking pregnant~ Stuff you full and plug you up so none of my cum gets wasted~! Ah~ yes-! Fuck fuck fuck~! So good~ So fucking good for me Kento~! Want me to fill you up~? THEN TAKE IT-!”
I would moan out as his hole spasms around my dick, like he actively trying to milk me for everything I'm worth and who am I to deny my glorious husband's request. I would feel my dick twitching, the white hot coil in my stomach ready to burst.
I would wrap my hands around his waist picking him up so just the tip of my dick is still inside his velvety walls before slamming him back down, shoving my entire length inside his perfect pussy, my dick twitching in pure bliss as ropes of sticky cum paint his insides white, spitting ropes of hot cum so deep inside him.
I would be mercifully and release his dick, pathetic ropes of hot, white and clear cum dripping down his softening dick as a powerful orgasm leaves him completely limp in my lap, my throbbing dick still nestled deep within him.
He would nuzzle his face against my neck, tears streaming down his face, his legs shaking as he wraps his arms around me, trying to ground himself as he babbles out a multitude of 'thank yous', still trying to catch his breath as sweat drips down his body.
I would wrap my hands around his trembling frame, fingers delicately tracing the bruises on his hips, my face also nuzzled against his neck as I place soft kisses against his burning skin, slowly bringing him out of the clouds while whispering how good he was, how perfect he is and how lucky I am to have him.
We would sit like that for a while, my soft dick buried deep inside his abused hole, wrapped in each other's arms, softly muttering praises to each other as we got out breathing under control and came down from our highs.
“You did so well my love, so good for me. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” I would suggest after we've been sitting there for about half an hour, he would have stopped trembling and gotten comfortable, slumped against me while he cock warms me.
He would tiredly nod, not having any strength to speak and I would put my hands under his thighs, slowly lifting him off my soft cock, he would groan at the feeling of my dick leaving his tight hole, my cum leaking out and dripping down his thighs.
I would get up and pick him up, his legs wrapping around my waist and his hands wrapped around my neck, his head resting on my shoulder as I carried him to the bathroom, still muttering soft praises in his ear.
We would get to the bathroom and I would put him down on the toilet seat, being gentle as I do so because I know hes sore, he would hiss as the cold lid of the toilet seat touches his bare ass but the cold feeling would be welcomed.
I would quickly start filling the tub with warm water, getting some bubbles and rose petals to make it even better because Kento deserves it.
Once the tub is full I would gently pick up Kento and deposit him in the tub, his no doubt exhausted body immediately sinking into the warm water, letting it loosen all his muscles.
I wouldn't smile as I get in behind him, putting both my legs on either side of his waist as he rests his back against my chest, my arms wrapping around his chest as I hold him close, once again muttering small praises into his ear.
Kentos body would go completely limp in the warm water, resting his head back against my shoulder, his eyes closed as he relaxes in my hold and lets me take care of him after fucking his brains out.
After a few minutes of simply soaking in the water and basking in each others presence I would start washing him, then wash his hair and gently finger all my cum out of his puffy hole, making sure not to overstimulate him too much.
Once we're both done bathing I would once again carry him to our room and gently lay him on the bed as I grab out matching pajamas.
Once we're both changed I'd climb into bed with him, our automatic position would be us spooning, me being the big spoon with my arm wrapped around his waist, holding his back flush against my chest as he curls up against me.
“You were such a good boy today Kento, you did so well. You deserve to rest now, Darling. I love you baby, get some sleep.” I would whisper in his ear, my voice filled with genuine love and admiration as I kiss the back of his neck, resulting in a pleased sigh from Kento.
“Mhm, I love you too daddy~ Goodnight.” he would mumble as he yawns, closing his eyes as he drifts off to sleep, his mind having been fucked free of any thoughts then slowly brought back down leaving him completely and utterly satisfied.
We would sleep soundly in each other's arms, knowing only safety and comfort in each other's embrace. I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, knowing I have my soulmate wrapped in my arms.
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an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months
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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario
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warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.
Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.
If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)
Reblog to support content creators!
Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.
 Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way. 
So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around. 
Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you. 
You, who believed in Charlie’s work.
You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.
You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it. 
He lost the ability to feel anything years ago. 
Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others. 
You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much. 
In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner.  They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk. 
When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess. 
Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do. 
Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day. 
When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out. 
He saw you cook  finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish  even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands. 
He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War. 
Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit. 
A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day. 
Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it. 
Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake  whiny bitch. 
As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that. 
And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.
It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong. 
One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel. 
Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them. 
Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore. 
Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no. 
That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a  shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle. 
THUD.
Shnk.
THUD.
C-crack.
THUD.
“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!” 
“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other. 
He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army.  When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck. 
He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply. 
Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around  scratching, kicking,  and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.
The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off  him and inhaling deep gulps of  precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands. 
“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting. 
Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right. 
“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?” 
“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed  your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character. 
You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked. 
“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”
“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.
“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.
“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”
“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”
“Yes.”
“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”
“Yes.”
“Food for plants.”
“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones. 
Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin. 
“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?” 
Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?
You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts. 
You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a  block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too. 
Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass. 
Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it. 
Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards. 
They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.
You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. 
“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone. 
“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest. 
“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.” 
Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right.  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering. 
He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse. 
Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck. 
He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”
Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit. 
You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”
Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw  before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.
“What-”
“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there? 
So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below,  your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.
You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places. 
It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination. 
Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his. 
He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.” 
A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”
You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.
“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”
You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”
“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special. 
You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight. 
“It’s done.”
“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”
You faltered. “But -”
“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.
Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking. 
But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight. 
As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms. 
“Husk?”
“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass. 
“Thank you…for everything.”
His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome." 
He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory? 
And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens. 
What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter. 
Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats
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stromblessed · 5 months
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Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise
In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.
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Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.
I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!
Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.
In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:
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I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."
Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.
I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.
This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.
There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:
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When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!
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By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.
It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:
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(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)
If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.
Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:
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Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:
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No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol
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So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.
And yet no one spots that she's female.
Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.
Let me explain.
She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.
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But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:
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I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."
Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.
Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.
One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:
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Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)
And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:
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Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.
Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol
There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:
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After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.
So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.
May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.
Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."
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