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tadpolesonalgae · 10 months

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Feysand x closeted!reader: Drunken Mistakes[*]

A/N: I am committed to writing a Part 2 to this where dark!Feysand come onto reader once she’s sober (Part 3)

Warnings: smut, pussy eating, spitting, kind of exhibitionism, kind of threesome fmf, edging?, not proofread

“Isn’t it pretty?”

You laugh drunkenly as Feyre crawls across the bed to peer down your shirt as you show her your bra. “I saw it while shopping and thought it looked great—” You hiccup, flushing as she gets a full view of your breasts, “—and it was a matching set, so I thought I’d get something nice for myself, for one in my life!”

The door to her bedroom opens, and Rhys enters with a tray. When he sets it on the bedside table, you see it holds a glass of water, some buttered toast, and a pill. “Let me get a better look, I can’t see it with your top on,” Feyre argues, hands already greedily dropping to its hem, pushing it up over your chest. She takes in the blue-grey fabric, violet lace decorating it’s edges.

“And it offers super good support, too,” you slur, eyes squinting at Rhys as you try to figure out why he’s here. “Feyre, darling,” he calls, and her attentions drags away from you, making your shoulders slump. It’s not as if you need her attention, but…you just feel prettier when she’s looking at you. Like you’re worth her time.

“She needs to eat.” His eyes slide to you, while you stare at Feyre with unconcealed adoration. He nods to you, “she’s giving you an opportunity.” Feyre’s eyes return to yours and you flush, having been caught staring—off in your own world. Her eyes flick back to Rhys’s and she looks unsure.

Your body feels cold without her attention.

“She’s drunk, Rhys,” Feyre returns, worrying her lower lip. He shrugs, as if it’s of no matter, but the stiffness betrays him. “Drunk words and sober thoughts and all that.” He turns to you, “isn’t that right, little lynx?”

Your attention drags to him, “sorry, what?”

He laughs, and the sound drags down your spine, making you shiver. His sparkling eyes flick back to his mate, “see?” She bites her lip, looking at you, and you wish she were putting her teeth in your own instead. “She won’t remember a thing in the morning.” The High Lord settles on the bed, beside you, the mattress dipping. “Alcohol be damned, we’re daemati. This whole night will be a blur if you wish it.” He cups her cheeks, looking at her with nothing but love, and you feel the need to look away. Like you’re seeing something private. “We can have our fun, and she’ll be fine, none the wiser.”

Rhysand turns to you, hands leaving Feyre’s cheeks as his hungry violet gaze meets yours, “isn’t that right, little lynx?” You tilt your head as you look at him, “what are you talking about?” A smirk tips his hellish mouth, before he’s leaning forward, enveloping your lips with his own. You squeak, startled as you freeze, not knowing what to do. “Rhys!” Feyre scolds, but he keeps his soft mouth over yours.

He pulls away before you have a chance to figure anything out, hand cupping your jaw as you subconsciously lean into his warmth. “Did you like that, hm?” He asks, and you blink. Then dip your head. Because you did like it, and you don’t want to lie to him. You can’t lie to him. To either of them.

You blink, and your top has been removed, leaving you in your bra and skirt. “What about that?” Rhys asks, a playful lilt to his voice, and his lips are more flushed than before. You feel hotter, and more out of breath than seconds ago. “What about what?” He exchanges glances with his mate, and her hungry eyes settle on you.

She’s taken back to her years in the forest, when she was the huntress in those snowy woods, and remembers the beautiful doe she’d seen on that fateful day.

“You…said you’d bought a matching set…” She swallows, watching you nervously, “…are you wearing it now?” Rhys smirks at his mate, an appreciative gleam in his eyes as he takes in his cunning High Lady. You nod giddily, smiling drunkenly, and she’s not sure she can work up the courage to ask. What if you say no? Or she scares you off? Or what if—

“Would you like me to show you?”

Her head goes quiet, but you’re already lying down, lifting your hips to shimmy out of your skirt. You move to your hands and knees, crawling toward her so she can clearly see the pretty underwear. Rhysand swears under his breath, watching with lustful fascination as you bare your pretty hips, clad in thin blue-grey fabric with the light, deep blue lace neatly edging the hem—so blue it’s violet.

Feyre’s breath catches as you look down at yourself obliviously, fingers playing with the band of the material, tugging lightly at the lace. “It looked so pretty, and the lace reminded me of—… I mean, I liked their colour—”

“Finish that sentence.” Rhys’ voice cuts through your own, strained and demanding and you flinch. You force a laugh, settling down on your knees as you turn to him, Feyre still speechless. “The colour. The bluey-grey goes nicely with the violet—”

“No…” he tuts, hand lightly gripping your jaw as he tilts you to look at him. “What does it remind you of, huh?”

Your breath catches as he looks at you with those eyes.

You feel utterly bare.

You swallow, “I—…”

“I’ll know if you lie to me.” Your cheeks flush with heat and you try to force it down—to no avail. “I—…uh.” Your eyes skim to Feyre, who in turn is staring at you ravenously. Her eyes flick to yours and you nearly reel back at the hunger. The starving hunger in the depth of her gaze. “Your eyes,” you mumble, stammering the words out, “they reminded me of your eyes, High Lord.”

Rhys has to bite back a beastly snarl at the confession, needing to put his teeth in your skin, taste you, have you coming on his tongue—

“You like the feeling of our eyes on you?” Feyre asks, and you shift uncomfortably, raising your knees to cover your body as you lean back on your hands. “When you put it like that…”

She follows, shifting onto her hands and knees as she crawls after you, slowly cornering you at the other end of the bed. Rhys swears he gets hard from just watching the hunt. His huntress. Those years left their mark on her, and the scars are showing. “You liked the feeling of having us covering your most intimate parts? Hidden beneath those pretty clothes?” Your thighs squeeze together at her words, shaking your head.

“It’s not like that…I just—”

“Don’t.” She commands, barely a whisper as you reach the headboard, back pressing flush to the cushioned panel. Your lips seal at her order, following obediently. “Do you want to see mine?” She stops when she’s between your legs, hands pressing behind you.

You swallow, eyes flicking away. “Don’t you—… Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” She gives you a curious look. “You’re my High Lady. And…Rhys is my High Lord. And you’re mates.” Her lips quirk at the edges, “what’s a small peek between girl friends, right?” Her hands settle to the tops of your thighs, fingers dancing along your skin, cresting your curved knees. “You’re always saying I’m the closest friend you have… Besides, you’re already only in your underwear, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable if I was too?”

Her grin turns vulpine, “or do you like the idea of commanding Rhys’ attention?”

Traitorous heat flushes your cheeks. You don’t want to tell them the truth, you love having their eyes on you, love it when they care for you, and talk to you, and touch you— “do you—…do you want me to help you? Undo your dress?” You divert, and Feyre’s eyes spark.

She feels the imploring pressure of Rhys’ gaze upon her, encouraging her to take the opening you’re obliviously giving her. She won’t waste it.

The High Lady shifts on the bed, sweeping her hair over a shoulder, baring the ties of her dress to you. “Be my guest.”

She’s set on her knees, back to you. Your eyes traitorously flick to Rhysand’s, as if he might stop you from touching his mate so intimately, but his eyes are hungry, watching like a predator. He nods his head, and your fingers lift to her dress, pulling the ties free.

Then she’s allowing the gown to flow off her shoulders, crawling out of the constraining material as she kicks it away. Feyre turns to face you, revelling in the way your cheeks heat. “What do you think, birdie?”

“I—…uh, it’s nice. Very nice. Suits you…well.” It’s all an understatement. The fabric is a lighter blue-grey than your own, verging on a creamy navy, with white lace strewn finely across the straps. There are small, floral embellishments dotted across the material in thin, silver thread. Absolutely all of her is beautiful.

“That’s it? It’s just…nice?” She breathes, settling onto her hands and knees as she crawls over you. You swallow, leaning backward as she prowls forward. “I…I’m struggling for words, Fey. It’s…very lovely.” She pushes you beneath her, and you follow willingly, melting into a pliant mess under her guiding palms. “I’m sure you can find a way to articulate yourself…through one way or another.”

She leans closer, and you feel her breath puff over your mouth, eyes dipping down. Her tongue darts out, lapping over her lower lip, making your eyes flick back up to hers hurriedly. She’s caught you.

The High Lady wants to put her mouth over yours, but she’s struggling with that first step that will—hopefully—set all the others into a fluid stream. She needn’t concern herself, as she hears your heart rate increase, how your eyes are quavering, desperate to descend. Then your eyelids are fluttering closed, tipping yourself toward her. Access.

She hesitates. You’re drunk, and she’s not sure she would be able to look you in the eye if she has to wash your memory. But you’re clearly giving her permission…

‘What are you waiting for?’

Her eyes snap to her mate, who’s still sat on the edge of the bed, lower down. She can see the clear evidence of his arousal at the display, and it makes her thighs squeeze together.

‘Take her.’

‘She’s drunk, Rhys… She doesn’t know what she’s doing.’

‘She knows what she wants. Give it to her.’

Feyre returns her eyes to you, your slightly puffy lips, the heat from your cheeks, the open expectation resting on your features.

‘Before she opens her eyes.’

She leans down, lips ghosting over your own, and she feels the shudder that traces down your spine, the soft sigh you release.

‘Take her or I will.’

Her mouth presses against yours firmly, lips opening as she melts across your tongue, heat pounding between your legs. You moan quietly, almost dizzy from relief, feeling weightless. Her hands brush over your sides, grazing your breasts as you arch beneath her deft fingertips.

You yelp when she reaches around to your back, unclasping your bra, pushing the straps over your shoulders. Your arms fly across your chest, breaking the kiss to conceal you from her eyes.

Her hand settles over your wrist, not tugging, just resting there. “Why are you hiding? There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Her blue-grey eyes stare down at you gently, piercing through your shields with terrifying ease.

Your eyes flicker to where Rhys sits lazily, taking in the show, not making the slightest effort to conceal his arousal. “Don’t worry about him. Focus on me,” she demands softly, stroking your cheek to return your attention to her. “He’s harmless, really.”

“He doesn’t look harmless…”

And you’re completely correct. Being proven so as he prowls up quietly behind his mate, draping himself over her back, arms circling her waist, pressing kisses to her neck as he stares you down.

‘Sit upright.’

You follow the command mindlessly, not focusing on where the urge came from as you move to your knees before them, arms moving to settle between your thighs as they take in your perky nipples.

‘Open your legs.’

Again, you follow obliviously, simply yielding to the inclination. Your thighs part as you set them wider, revealing more of yourself to their hungry eyes.

“See? She just needs some orders to follow, then she’s all set.” Rhys whispers to her ear, fingertips tracing over her stomach as they both look at you with pools of desire in their eyes. “She won’t remember a thing in the morning. So what’s holding you back?”

Feyre shifts in his arms, a predator teaching his lover to hunt like he does. “Do you not want her? We can toss her out if you don’t like her.”

“Rhys,” she snarls. She knows what he’s doing, but falls for it anyway. Stumbling straight into his trap. “Then take her.”

When she hesitates longer, refusing to make another move, Rhysand sighs sharply. His fingers drop to the clasp on her bra, tearing away the offending material. Feyre gasps, wanting to cover herself from you, but he catches her wrists. “Don’t.” She snarls, but it lacks the necessary bite to warn her mate away from you.

You watch almost absently, until your return to the front of your mind, re-inhabiting your body as you flush at the sight. Your eyes latch onto Rhys’, and a dangerous promise dances in his gaze. If you make the first move, everything will follow, slot seamlessly into place. “Go on,” he taunts softly, “have a taste.”

Feyre nearly loses her mind when you hesitantly move forward, one hand placing on her thigh, the other cupping her jaw. Your nose brushes her, and you can feel their eyes on you, as if you’re some rare creature they’re tracking, afraid one move will send you fleeing from their bedroom. Your look down at her lips, so plump and pillowy, but…

You stiffen, the alcohol beginning to ware off. Fey’s your friend. And female. You shouldn’t be doing this. Your eyes worriedly rise to Feyre’s and your breath catches.

Please. The word shines in her gaze, so desperate and pleading it wipes away any previous doubts in your mind. Allowing yourself to live in the moment. Love in the moment.

You lower your mouth to hers, and feel the soft groan in her chest.

And then everything snaps.

She’s pulling off Rhys, her hands gripping your hips, snaking round your back, tangling in your hair as she raises herself onto her knees. Her tongue sweeps in, dominating your mouth with relentless, demanding strokes. All you can do is arch into her as she devours you, pulling you tighter against her body as she indulges herself.

Rhys chuckles softly, pulling back to watch the erotic display unfold. “I think I’ll leave you two to get to know each other, shall I?”

Feyre pulls away at the words, spinning you around so you’re back is to her mate. You stiffen, feeling his hungry gaze lick up your spine, feeling wary of having the devious male out of sight. He could get up to any number of tricks.

“You want a show, Rhys?” She growls lowly, hands brushing down until she’s grabbing your ass possessively. You press your hands to her rib cage, beneath her breasts as you startled at the proprietary handling. “A show would be nice,” he drawls, “I’ve become tired of resorting to fantasy. I’m sure the real thing will be much more satisfying, Feyre, darling.”

She snarls, pushing you down onto the bed, crawling up your body as she lays a dominating hand over your chest. Then she’s dipping down, teeth sinking into your neck as she marks you over and over again, until there are very few patches of skin that she hasn’t bruised. Her hands touch you greedily, cupping your breasts as she rolls the tips of her fingers over your peaked nipples.

Your High Lady pulls away, long enough to glare down at you. “And to think you’ve been keeping this to yourself.” Her eyes run over your body, “keeping yourself away from us.” You flush at the possessive tone, preening beneath her attention as she thumbs your breasts. “Fey…” you pant, desperate and pleading.

“Tell me,” she orders, “tell me what to do. What do you want from me? Say it and it’s yours.”

Your eyes nearly roll at her admission, parting your thighs for her to settle closer. “Your mouth,” you pant, vision blurring, “please, fey. I need you between my legs. Please.” She doesn’t think twice, already shifting down your body until she’s between your thighs, scattering more marks over your skin. The tears spill, “Fey, please. Don’t tease me.”

A hand cups your cheek, large and calloused as you meet violet eyes.

“Why should she, little lynx?” Rhys drawls softly, appearing above you. “You’ve been driving us mad for so long. Why should we reward you for withholding our pleasure for so long, hm?”

Feyre lowers between your thighs, her hot breath fanning over your clothed cunt. Slim fingers brush over the apex of your thighs, a ghost of a touch. It has you preening, raising your hips into her touch. “I’m sorry—… I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to!”

Rhysand laughs, brushing away your tears casually, as if they don’t cloud his mind with arousal at the thought of shoving your head between his legs and just using you until you’re spluttering and choking on his come. “Ohhh, I see. You didn’t know.” Feyre snaps the band of your underwear in response, drawing a whimper from your mouth, hips bucking.

“You want me to believe you’ve never noticed the way Feyre and I look at you? How she often walks you home whenever you’re drunk because you’ll become flushed and carelessly take your clothes off for her? How you’ll get those inappropriate daydreams at the most inopportune moments? Have you never pieced it together, little Lynx?”

Heat warms your cheeks as you shake your head earnestly. “No! Rhys, I swear…” Feyre’s fingers glide over your clit, brushing in light oscillations as you buck your hips toward her. “Fey,” you whimper, beseeching her, “please. Please, I need you so badly.”

“Ah, ah, ah. You want her, you’ll have to convince me.” Rhys stares down at you, upside down to one another. “What do you want?” You plead, feeling as her tongue lolls out, lapping over the material. You whine at the wetness, but it’s dulled by that damned fabric—

Rhysand laughs, appreciating his cunning mate for her quick-thinking.

“It’s quite simple really,” he begins, giving you a coy smile that has slick dampening your underwear. “What is it?” You try to hurry him, eyes nearly rolling as her tongue laps lower, pressing over your entrance. You need her inside.

He tuts, hand gripping your jaw as he tilts your head upward, pressing you into the mattress to look at him. “You’re ours,” he drawls. “Whenever we want, whenever we need. You’re ours.” You nod desperately, just needing Feyre to give you her pleasuring mouth. “Promise it.” He drawls. “Make that bargain with us. Submit yourself to your High Lord and Lady, and we’ll give everything to you.”

Feyre thumbs at your clit, tongue following soon after as it swipes over the wet fabric, a mix of saliva and arousal. “I’m yours. I swear it! Promise it. Whenever you want, for whatever you need. I’m yours. Just—… Please!”

Dark delights rushes those violet eyes, the pads of his fingers brushing against your lower lip as you feel something sting down your chest—along your sternum. The bargain mark.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing the muscles of your jaw as he leans closer to you, “so good for us.” He spits into your mouth, scenting the wave of arousal that overwhelms his senses. You moan at the action, Feyre pulling your underwear from your heat, strands of slick connecting from the fabric to your cunt.

Your tongue moves in your mouth, playing with his spit, preening as her mouth envelops you. It’s the best paradise you’ve ever known, the wet heat of her tongue lapping over your pussy, playing with your clit. You nearly scream when she slides two fingers into you, easing her way in. Your mind goes blank, gripping Rhys’ hand as you open your mouth wider, curving your back and lapping at his fingers, asking for more.

He forgets how powerful arousal is sometimes. How it sinks it’s claws into one’s mind, until you can hardly tell up from down, or whether you’re truly acting of your own volition. Right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were controlling him, with the way his lips seal shut, gathering the saliva on his tongue, before he spits down.

You shatter in response, Feyre suckling on your clit so intently as her fingers pump and curl, stimulating you in ways you’d never imagined.

This time, you do scream.

Your world collapses as wave after wave crests over your body, soaking you in arousal as pleasure crashes down, coursing through your skin like a second life force. Your eyes squeeze shut, pushing tears over their edge with you as you free fall through the pleasure.

“So good for us,” Rhys drawls, “so marvellously perfect, aren’t you, little lynx?” You nod desperately, swallowing down his praise, tasting him on your tongue because you’re so good and so perfect and so delightfully theirs.

Feyre pulls up from between your thighs, fingers withdrawing and you take in how her mouth glistens. Then she’s hauling you to her, and your thighs are wrapped around her hips, and you’re clawing at one another, already desperate for round two.

Your High Lady lifts you from the bed, turning you around so you’re on your hands and knees before her mate. He’s settled down, hands bracing himself on the mattress, long legs either side of you. He’s giving you a perfect view of his prominent arousal.

“Go on,” he taunts, softly, a hint of overpowering lust and affection twining in his lover’s voice, “set to work.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Feysand #Feysand x reader #Feysand smut #feysand x reader smut #Feysand x f!reader #Feysand x f!reader smut #x f!reader #June

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toomanywordsnllines · 11 months

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Some would think that the hardest person to put into some formal wear would be Ghost.

He uses the comfiest clothing he has, soft and big enough for easy movement and with as many pockets as humanly possible. The man's practicality in his dressing style is what tends to make people think this way. (Also the fact the man just seems to rotate the same.... four pair of.... everything for weeks on end)

But no not really. When time does come, Ghost is someone that cleans up well. He makes sure his suits fit him like a glove, no unecessary bunching or tightness that would make the whole ordeal be hellish. Always making sure he has spots to hide his weapons "just in case". His hair might be the only issue in everything - but it's not from a lack of trying. The thing has life for itself.

He even makes sure to treat the little invisible parts of his face with care (though that's mostly with someone's else's help).

He's a sight to see when formal wear comes into play. Layering being his best friend even in this situations. Shirts. Jackets. And the vests he uses, usually subtly decorated, hug his chest and middle tight but elegantly. It's both mouth watering and knee weakening.

And does Soap want to kneel

It's rare, but god is it a devine look. Ghost's elegance and confidence always radiate brighter, putting the sun to shame, when he leaves the bathroom.

Dressed and ready to go. Smelling phenomenally like a fresh shower and soft cologne.

Soap always has to count to ten before he even approaches the man. Controlling himself to not do.... something that would get them all late.

But no it's not Ghost who's a pain in the ass to get dressed to the nines. (Soap would even go as far and say the man always looks forward to putting on a nice suit)

And it's not Soap either.

You see being raised with an.... arrangement of sister's makes you a little more preoccupied in your appearance. God forbid he goes out with them in just a plain pair of sweatpants. (He did it once, and wore dress shoes on purpose to see the vein in his twin sister pop and his youngest eye twitch. His mom just shook her head with laughter)

But, no. Johnny takes great pride in getting dressed nicely. Always making sure his accessories go well with the vests and shirts he puts on. From rings to earrings and necklaces. Never too much. Just to pop attention to where he wants people to look

There's this....."necklace" that he loves wearing. For no reason in specific, of course, it's not like Johnny hasn't seen Simon look at him hungrily when he uses it or anything... It's also not because he always leaves some buttons undone when he uses it.... He finds it pretty, is all.

His style is marginally different from Ghost's, of course. While the man likes to go more monochromatic with it. Johnny takes pleasure in mixing blues and golds. Red's, Green's. He has either shirts decorated subtly. Or vests that are the center of attention in different graceful shapes.

He has fun in it. Gets a little boost of euphoria in putting some nice pants that hug his ass nice just right and a vest that flatters his chest correctly. He always forgoes a jacket though. Having the tendencie to roll the sleeves up his arms and leaving his arms exposed. (Price has told him multiple times to not do that since it's not "formal enough"....

"But sleeves are so itchy, Price." He whines, making the most miserable face he can.

Price sighs, pitching the bridge of his nose

"You know what? I'm too tired for this." "Do whatever you want, but make sure to cover your tattoo.")

The perfect image on causally put together - as his sister would tell him.

He also takes pleasure in stealing Ghost's nice colognes and using them on himself. Going sometimes for Gaz to help him fix his hair and eyebrows, making sure everything is in place.

So as you can tell. It's not Ghost nor Johnny. Gaz is of course not even close to that list. And price may grumble (because of the loss of his dear hat) but he gets the job done.

No, the person who is a fucking pain in the ass to get ready. And to pry out of the bed with a hammer so he puts on a fucking pair of nice pants is no one else but local Cockroach Gary, pain in Soap's ass, Sanderson.

Who see's anything besides t-shirts, jumpers and tank tops as a straight jacket. It's like getting a five year old dressed for the cousins wedding. Fighting tooth and nail to get the bastard in nice pants.

"It's tight," he whines, feeling talkative on this day where things don't really go his way.

Soap eye twitches.

Ghost chuckles from where he's shaving by the sink.

Soap is very close to throwing a bottle of shampoo at his head

Johnny has been fighting him, physically, for over an hour to get him in the vest. He could forgoe it. It's not necessary. But he knows Roach likes layers, feels more protected with it, so it would make him the most comfortable to go with it.

"Ah dinnae see ye complainin' when ye put on yer tactical vest-" he tightens his hands on the buttons when Roach squirms again "- stop squirmin', bloody Jesus- I'll go get the fuckin' pesticide, Gary dinnae tempt me."

At that Ghost let's out a breathless little laughter and when Soap looks up furiously at him in the mirror the man has his head hanging low, shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Ye think, this's funny? Come dae the job yourself then," he grumbles, giving up with hands towards the air.

"Take care of yer man."

Roach huffs up at him, crossing his arms over an half buttoned vest and an messed up shirt. Johnny doesn't even want to look at his hair, least him have a stroke right there and then. Good thing they decided to start dressing a good length of time before they need to get out.

Him and Ghost trade spots, Johnny finally getting in front of the mirror to get himself ready. His eyes don't get the idea though, straying constantly to the reflection on the two men standing behind him.

Roach refuses to look up as Ghost gets in front of him, posture relaxed and mirth rolling out of him in waves. A hand flutters through his hair gently but he stays looking at the floor until Simon rests his hands on each side of his face and lifts it to look at him. Ghost lifts an eyebrow

"What's all this, then," he says in an exaggerated accent. He does it softly, getting a huff of laughter from Johnny.

His eyes don't leave Gary's tho.

"Tight," he hisses through gritted teeth.

Simon hums as his eyes gaze down slowly his body. Analizing. Roach supresses a shiver.

"This was tailored for you." Ghost puts two fingers between the vest and Roach's chest, pulling gently the fabric towards himself, observing the give and leeway of the cloth in question. "It's impossible to be tight," he points out, head still sucked down, looking through his lashes at Roach, through Roach.

They stand in silence, staring.

Gary is the first to yield.

'It's...it presses...wrong.' He signs, 'Uncomfortable.'

Simon's hand presses gently over Gary's left side, right over his ribs. An acknowledge of what exactly is getting pressed...wrong. Roach let's out a sigh before Ghost pulls away to stand in front of him, head turned to the side and eyes fixated - thinking.

"Johnny." The man in question stops fussing with his hair, eyes already fixed on the ones that stare at him from the reflection. "Do you have your black suit at hand?"

He pauses for a second. "Ah think so, yeah."

So they all stop what they're currently doing and scavenger Soap's side of the wardrobe until he comes out with a triumphant yell.

"Ah asked him an hour ago if he wanted to wear somethin' of mine and he said nae", he says deadpanned as he watches Ghost take the pieces carefully out of the protective bag. He then glares directly at Roach.

Who was fluttering his lashes innocently at him.

He rolls his eyes passing the two to get back to the bathroom and finish getting ready. Gary catches him by the waist. Pulling him in and kissing him on the corner of his mouth. An apology.

Soap hums, turning more fully and pecking him on the lips.

"Sweet talk me all ye want, love. It ain't gonna work." And then he leaves, slapping Roach's backside and booking it for the bathroom in giggles at the man's indignant yelp.

Thirty minutes later and John is up and ready to go sitting on the couch waiting for the other two. It's all quiet besides the occasional muffled sound of Ghost's voice.

It takes thirty more for the bedroom door to open. And when it does Soap is up and looking up eagerly, holding his breath.

Simon is the first one to leave the room. Dressed in all blacks. Hair slicked back nicely, a single rouge strand falling gently over his forehead. Shirt hugging his biceps deliciously and tidied up to perfection. Little gold brooches rest on the collar of his shirt harmonizing everything.

Enticing Soap to kiss his neck

He decided to wear the vest that Soap has dubbed his favorite. Completely black save for the gold accented flowers that frame the whole thing. It accentuates his waist and makes Simon's pale skin and hair shine even under the god awful lights of the livingroom.

The slacks sit comfortably on his legs and God do they make them look like miles longer than they actually are. Fighting for their lives at his thighs and ending just under the ankle. Just missing the shoes and jacket that are by the door.

Soap has to bite his lip and exhale through his nose.

Breathtakingly, drop dead fucking gorgeous is what he is.

He kills for that man.

Ghost saunters closer to him and rests both of his hands on Soap's waist, leaning closer to nuzzle against his freshly groomed stubble. Cologne fills Soap's nose, leaving him dizzy.

He notices familiar earrings resting prettly on Simon's ears. And his knees almost buckles when he realizes they're his.

Dark blue, almost black, just like the vest he's wearing.

"Gorgeous" his voice leaves him in a rough rumble, vibrating in his chest and leaving close to Simon's ear.

The taller man's hand snake to his chin, and heavy eyes look down on him.

"You're not too bad yourself," he mutters, bending slightly to kiss him. It's soft and sweet. Long. And doesn't go any father than that before he's pulling away with a peck on the corner of Soap's lips.

He smacks Soap's ass before going to the door.

"Cheeky." Johnny laughs before he turns back to the bedroom door and his breath catches on his chest once more.

Roach stands by the bedroom door, hands in his pockets. He looks.... Well not self conscious. That's not a word for someone like Gary-

Shy.

Timidly looking at Soap with a soft blush covering his cheeks. And Johnny is stunned into silence.

While Ghost looks sharp and downright sexy in his suit, Roach looks softer. Perhaps it's because of how the clothing sits a little more baggy on him. Jacket longer for his slightly shorter frame. Shirt buttoned with a loose short tie.

His hair is a mixture of slicked back and ruffled. Arranged so the longer pieces curl beautifully behind his face. There's a little golden hairpin close to his ear holding some of his fringe back. Framing it and bringing the green of his eyes forward. Shining with their specks of brown.

All Soap can think is that he looks God-like.

And that he looks his.

Wearing his suit, his jacket, his slacks, his shirt and as John gets closer and wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him flush against his own chest, nuzzling along the curve of his neck. His cologne.

His his his his his-

Possessiveness fills his chest and he can't help but pull him closer, kissing behind his ear and growling.

"My pretty boy."

Roach hums low in his chest, content with tilting his neck barring his throat further for Soap to keep smothering kisses all over.

"Fuck, doll. Ye look so pretty in my suit."

The chuckle he feels against his lips feels like dripping honey, coating his tongue as he licks a long strip just under Roach's jaw. The man gasps, hand tightening where it rests on Soap's shoulder playing with his earring.

His own hand tightens on the expanse of waist he's grabbing. The things he wants do for him-

"Boys."

Ghost heavy rumbly voice calls from the door. A shiver goes down Soap's spine at his tone. Detaching himself from Roach is painful but the kiss he gets on his lips is salve for his wounds.

Gary cuts it short, however and he has to keep himself in check and not whine at the loss. They both turn to look at where Ghost is standing gazing at them.

The self control Johnny has almost gets thrown out of the window at the look Simon fixes them. It's Hot, heavy, eyes so dark he can barely see the chocolate that rests behind the black of his pupils. He realizes that Ghost and Roach had full eye contact when Soap got a little lost in his own mind. He shifts in his spot a little.

"Let's go then, aye." He says cheery as ever.

Ghost turns with a huff and a roll of his eyes, one that makes Soap's grin widen. He's about to follow right after when Roach suddenly grabs his waist and gets incredibly closer to his ear.

"Be a good boy tonight."

'And you'll get your reward' is left unspoken but Soap heard it loud and clear, so much that he's left a blushing stunned mess in the middle of their hall as Roach follows just right behind Ghost.

He wills his heart to stop hammering in his chest (and his blush to stop being embarrassingly hot) before he follows after them, picking up the car keys and closing the door after himself.

Maybe Roach's fuss for fancy clothes wasn't so bad after all... His heart flutters, giddy.

"Bleeding Jesus."

It's gonna be a fun night.

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peach-teea · 9 months

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ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ: ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇɢɪɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴇᴀɴ ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴀɴ ꜱᴘᴏᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ

i hope the story is to your liking! @adalia-world

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏ/ɴ?, ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

The coming of age ball. Some girls were looking forward to it. Some were dreading it. Mostly because it was expected to find a husband. Which you weren't exactly... comfortable with. You felt happy the way you were. You don't need a man. You can hear your mothers sigh at that.

The preparations for the ball were... quite exhausting to say. The dress you've chosen was beautiful, your favorite color too. However the tailor was quite snappy so the fittings were hellish. The ballroom looked amazing. Decorated with flowers and other decorum, however your mothers snapping at every servant was... also quite exhausting.

As your mother says, this is one of the most important nights of your life. Your job is to look pretty and find a husband, nothing else. The thought brought nausea to your stomach though. You're not able to imagine a life with someone just because of money. Especially with the way those wealthy men treat their wives. It's still better than being on the streets but, if you can you'll marry out of love. You already have your eyes on your childhood best friend. But there's no way he reciprocates your feelings...

Your neck adorned with precious gems, dress made out of the finest fabrics, shoes from the best shoemaker and hair decorated with pins. Your beauty made even the more.... uninterested suitors as to say, interested.

They all came here for you, problem is, all they saw until now was a picture. That was from when you were 13 so you weren't blaming them for their shock as you entered the ballroom.

Your target was clear though. Sean. You have to find your best friend. Looking around didn't bring any fruit though. You've decided to walk to the table with drinks. Maybe you'll find him there. And taking a sip of something wouldn't hurt either, would it now.

You stood by the table still as you were sipping on your wine. As you lower the glass your eyes finally catch Sean. But just as you have your eyes set on him your view gets blocked. What in the-

"My lady" an older looking man says, as he bents down and grabs your hand slowly kissing it. He looked and smelled as if he already had more than his share of the wine...

"My lord, what do I owe the pleasure?"

He smiles, his touch now feeling slimey "My lady, I was blown away by your beauty, would be shame if you didnt dance with me,... maybe even take me to your rooms after" his hand was sliding up your arm, this was highly innapropriate, looking for your mother was useless though as she was probably just talking with some wealthy folks

The way his eyes were slipping to your cleavage every few moments was very uncomfortable. And also. He was old. At first you thought he could be your father but honestly up close more like your grandfather. Beard and hair with white streaks with crows feet near his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead... You didn't know what to do. Denying a dance was impolite, especially when you were looking for a husband. But honestly you couldn't even imagine this man as your husband. Your thoughts spiralling into the worst scenarios. When a familiar voice interrupted your conundrum.

"I'm very sorry, but Lady y/n already promised me the first dance. Isn't that right?" Sean, always coming to your rescue was looking at you with his usual smile.

"Yes, yes I did. I'm sorry but Ill have to decline your request." The dukes mouth opened again as if he wanted to say something but you couldn't catch any words as Sean took your hand and led you away.

"Are you alright?" Sean asked as he was taking you to the dance floor as you assumed the positions to dance.

"Yes, I mean I wasn't, but I am now."

"I'm glad. You looked like a spooked doe back there with him. Had to go save you." You couldn't read his face, it was his usual smirk but... with a hint of softness. Something that's quite rare on his face.

"I could've dealt with him. I just needed a little bit more time-"

"I know you could little doe. Maybe i just wanted to save you to feel like the prince charming. Saving his princess. Just like in the fairytales."

"You're quite cheesy today." You retort, suspicious of his sweet words.

"Maybe i just don't want you to get married to these dense lords. They wouldn't... they wouldn't see you the way I do." You wanted him to say more. To explain himself. What did he mean. How does he see you? Does he reciprocate your feelings? But the dance ended. And you had to dance with other men too.

Your mother was pushing you to dance with more estabilished and wealthy men. After dancing the night away though you had enough. The conversation you had with Sean laying heavy on your mind.

The ball hadn't ended yet, but you excused yourself and went to get some air in the gardens. Walking around the rose bushes was your favorite. They looked radiant red under the moonlight. You could feel warmth on your shoulder. You'd swear you almost had a heartattack when you looked and saw it was actually Sean touching it.

"Are you still alright? My lady," asking once again, this time you didn't know what to answer

"Of course" lie. You could see on his face that he knows. His eyebrows furrowed and then raised questionably.

You sigh, "alright alright, I'm not doing the best but I'm ok alright?"

"Is something bothering you, little doe?" He finally tooks his hand off your shoulder, damn you actually miss it now, hoping he'd maybe offer his arm to hold

"I just, I don't know. My mother hoped to find me a wealthy, succesful husband. But none of the men i danced with today seem like good choices for me. For my mother yes, but not for me." He frowned at that.

"Not even me?" You could feel your heart almost stopping. He's really going to give you a heartattack this way.

"I mean- you. We..." ... "did you just- offer yourself to be my husband? Did you just propose?"

"Why did you think I came here for, y/n?"

"I don't know, moral support?" At least you made him smile

"My little doe, you know everything about me. Ive told you my deepest secrets. My hopes and dreams. My plans. And yet you're blind to see how I feel towards you. How could I take any other woman for a wife other than you?" Seans voice slowly went out into the night. Stepping closer towards you as he places his hand on your cheek and lays his forehead on yours.

"Y/n, can I kiss you?" the request was quiet, almost as if he was afraid of the rejection

"Yes" whispering into his lips as you connect yours with them. The kiss was soft. Your first. It felt calming. He was here. And not going anywhere. He was yours, and you were his.

A/N- Im gonna be honest- i havent written anything in AGES. Was struggling with school and after all the studying felt very burnt out. Then went through some family crisis and was contemplating dropping out 🫠BUT. Im going to try to do all the requests now.

Hope you enjoyed!

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on-stardust-wings · 11 months

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Findings from watching the season two opening. Here be spoilers if you haven’t seen it, begone all who seek to avoid those.

Crowley climbs up the rock (and does not look like he enjoys climbing much). Does that mean demons can’t fly? Crowley in particular can’t fly?

There is a moth (butterfly) that starts flying with Crowley and Aziraphale when Crowley lights the match. It’s the first creature that accompanies them. Is it important?

The fuck is this thing. I thought it’s an elephant first? With a trunk? But it’s on fire. Could just be a rock? Whatever it is, the angel with the box (Gabriel?) spawns right behind it. I would say portal to Hell, but angels don’t commonly come out of those. Or do they now? Anyway mysterious fiery thing.

There’s also a bunch of animals in the background of this setting. They seem to be mostly sheep and goats. And there’s huge bones/skeletons. Dinosaurs are fictional in the Good Omens verse, though. (Something about the dinosaurs are a joke thing? Please let it be something about dinosaurs being a joke, I love this bit.)

It’s raining fire and the poor goats and sheep get torched. :( Looking pretty apocalyptic for a season that (maybe) isn’t about the end of the world this time!

There’s the pickled herring from the spoiler/bts pics! And this person looks like Hastur IMO. “Everyday” apparently already died; it’s on a tombstone. What is the person in the back (behind the herring barrel) carrying? A miniature airplane? A rocket launcher? A big camera?

And THEN there’s the lamp with a face and feet guy, walking in front of the person with the headscarf. WTF is with lamp with a face guy. Lamp with a face guy even has a smaller lamp attached to his arm. I do not want to meet lamp with a face on a dark graveyard!

There are some more spooky characters joining the procession as it goes underground. What’s up with red head and a lamp on a stick guy for example?

Lovelovelove Hell with the magma and the giant spider and the office chairs on rocks (some of them upside down). Giant pentagram in the background that seems to be spinning! I loved the basement office hell vibe they used for Hell in S1, but this fiery Hell looks so cool. Creature with bat wings perching on top of a rock! Great vibes, very hellish.

London during the airstrike has a cool blimb, a tank, lots of wreckage, is apparantly a 30 zone, so no speeding, and there’s an ad for Stairway to Heaven. Seems like a play or a movie maybe?

Aziraphale and Crowley with their wings out walk in front of a bus with “wings for victory” written on the side. And then an aircraft throws a bomb on them.

It is raining rabbits in the entryway to the magic show theatre, and there’s person sized and shaped rabbit in the audience. Is it Harry the Rabbit?

Lots of interesting head dresses in the people following after Crowley here, and there’s Beelzebub. They’re being led to meet Aziraphale in his magic uniform, now upgraded with a cape! (He should have worn the cape to Adam’s party, capes are cool.)

Space! Spacespacespace! Look at the planets and stars! Also the tank, it’s still here. And there’s... a rabbit astronaut? With glowing eyes?

Little UFO crossing in front of that moon/planet! Looks a bit like the flying saucer from season 1.

Thy kingdom airways lol! And it’s raining hearts! On Aziraphale and Crowley on the bookshop roof.

“Give me coffee or give me death” is a very metal slogan for a coffee shop. And there’s lots of music themed stuff in the street. There’s a jukebox, a pile of records behind it, that decoration between the street lamps looks like vinyl records cut in half strung up? And the Bentley is there, probably blasting Queen. :D

The skycrapers are elevator shafts. The one in the middle has an angel in it, riding down. Down to Hell? Ding!

It’s the Dirty Donkey! And the movie theatre is called “The Arrival”. It’s screening today! That’s very clever, wonder if the opening will change with the different episode titles? :) Also, there’s the image from the box the angel is carrying again, on the film posters for The Arrival. Can’t tell what it is.

Look at them all walking into the light! They’re going to be enlightened! Or something. But it is a very bright light! Lighthouse! It’s also covered in scrap and junk nearly to the top. Whatever that may mean. (Guys don't walk into the light, no!)

My friends, I am really looking forward to stop waiting and see what this is all about!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #s2 opening title #in which I definitely watched this too often #should probably go to bed #but there's so much to see!#what's the mystery light they all walk into #p+a

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deadpuppetboi · 3 months

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How do you think manhunt 1 gangs celebrate their member's birthday? (Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!)

Wrote a lot about this specific topic, pretty proud of myself for this one.

The Hoodz - Late Night Bar

There are plenty of bars within Carcer City that are relatively bland as they are decent.

Plenty of times The Hoodz have had their chance to visit and usually mark their territory. But there were plenty of other bars far from Carcer’s cold and decrepit claws without the sign of a gang in sight. Bars they only go to at a member’s birthday, late into the night, drinking cold beers and watching the game to pass the time. Forget their lives, forget their secret lives, and forget Starkweather’s hellish demands for another film.

They have a game to catch up on.

The Innocentz - CARNE ASADAS BABYYY‼️‼️‼️

Stay up till dawn, drink until they pass out, music blasting, drugs galore, and that one member sleeping on top of five chairs.

To Hell with what the neighbors have to say, they were all going to party until they die. Singing their favorite songs in their drunken haze while they grill and eat to their heart’s content. They broke property, they screamed until their voices gave out, they danced until they dropped, and they laughed about the good times and bad. It shouldn't be a surprise that a huge mess would come by morning, but no one cared, they had the time of their lives.

Hangovers aside, they slept well throughout the day.

The Smileys - Makeshift birthday party

If there are two things a Smiley knows best, it would be screaming about what’s in their mind and knowing the very day they were born.

Everyone the most deranged Smiley knew their birthday and did everything in their power to make sure everyone knew that. With their handmade party decorations, their haphazard table arrangements, and their shockingly decent cooking skills; A birthday party is made. Besides the constant harassment of every other member BEGGING to have a slice of the cake or to tear open a present, they all anxiously stood around for the birthday kid to show up and finally indulge. And while their rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ could make The Hill Sisters themselves turn in their graves, it was pleasing enough for the birthday kid to blow out their candles and celebrate another year of madness and chaos alike.

And while they might as well have given themselves food poisoning, they enjoyed the gesture.

The Wardogs - Campfire

Far from the constant bustling crime-ridden Carcer City lay the woods.

There's a specific spot neither empty nor filled with trees, the ground dug out with use with one spot in particular surrounded by large rocks. Chopped wood is thrown in, and carefully lit, a fire burns, chairs are set up, whiskey is shared around, and they start to talk. Birthday Boy talks of good and bad times spent during his service, same with the gang, explaining how beforehand he didn't have much of a purpose until Ramírez came over to put him in the right direction. Put him out of the constant cycle of regret, give him a real reason to get up in the morning, and show him there's more to life than sticking a needle up his arm for a quick high.

He wouldn't have anyone to talk to if it weren't for The Wardogs, but he prefers it that way.

Cerberus - The Big Game

Away from Carcer City, stood a stadium that hoisted a big game that stood the test of time.

He wouldn't know how they did it, but they did, they managed to get the tickets themselves. Whether they bribed or killed the men who paid for those tickets, it didn't matter, they had front-row seats to watch everything go down. The screams from fans alike, the consumption of cheap greasy junk food, and the cheers of announcers brought the gang to their feet as they cried out for their team to win and the other to go home. Birthday boy is the loudest as he sees his favorite player run and dodge each of the opposing team’s players and quickly make it to the goal.

Away from the stress of their job, the men cheered once more as they finally saw their team win.

CCPD - Good Cop Bad Cop

Usually, the men in blue of Carcer City would get away with everything.

And it's true, they do get away with everything, most of the time that is. But there are specific days that are special and held dear to the hearts of the men in blue. A birthday party is held within the precinct, cheers are said and cold drinks are shared amongst everyone. A cake is cut and pieces are shared all around, talking about the individual’s past achievements and future goals.

And the criminal is set up, likely a gang member of whatever variety, sitting in the room for however long to bore them. The door is open, the man of the hour walks in and locks the door behind him.

There's a tense silence.

“I don't think you’re telling me the truth.”

Whether or not the accused is telling the truth or not doesn't matter, the man in blue takes out his baton and demonstrates it to the accuser. The ‘guilty’ looks on with worry, unsure of what's to be done and before they can speak, the baton swings and connects to their face.

They fall over their chair, still handcuffed and without warning another swing is made and hits them hard and fast. The other men in blue watch on through the camera, laughing as the accuser puts up their hands to try to protect themselves. No matter if they confess or not, the man of the hour keeps on beating, screaming out with authority, and demanding for any kind of evidence to be presented to him.

It's a good day to be a good cop, but it's a great day to be a bad one.

SWAT - Grilling

A nice old grill can take the ease off of anything for these guys.

Cool beers being shared, wives inside talking gossip, kids running inside and out playing games, and just overall a good time.

Families joined together, sharing a pleasant and normal day in celebration of one of the member’s birthdays. Cheesy singing, classic talks about their past endeavors, bragging about their kid’s accomplishments, and a loving kiss from their wives. Just one day to forget the troubles of their jobs and enjoy a day out with their families like a typical American outing.

That's all they ever wanted.

The Skinz - Hunting

A weekend off into the woods does great things for a man, especially for a hunter.

Guns of various types, deep talks about the political climate and how this generation has become ‘soft,’ alcohol bought and shared, and laughs all around. The beauty of hunting is that the targets don't know what's coming to them. To have to wait hours on end, dressed in full camouflage, guns drawn, eye through the scope, and finger on the trigger.

Eye right on target.

They could be stalking, sleeping, speaking, or having the time of their lives, but they would never expect a bullet to get shot right through them.

They scatter, of course, screaming out in fear over the sudden burst of blood and innards from their friend. Their body falls, hitting the campfire and scorching their corpse upon impact, and the birthday boy yelps in joy as do the other members.

What a hunt this’ll be!

Bonus!!!

The Camheadz - Movies

Each member has a movie.

They have a specific routine when it's a member’s special day. The birthday boy gets the message that his gift is ready, and he prepares himself, saying his excuses to his loved ones before he makes his way to his car to drive off. His once pleasant smile slowly turned down and blank, his mind running with many possibilities as he drove from the once bustling city into the damp and cold city that was Carcer.

It was a run-down building where they parked behind, stepped out, and looked at the broken sign of what used to be. He walks over toward the rusty door, carrying a large bag, and nonchalantly knocks on the door at a certain pace.

Knock-knockknockknock-knock-knock-knock.

It took a few seconds before another round of knocks came through.

Knock-knock-knock-knockknockknock-knock.

The man knocks back once again and the door opens, letting him inside. He walks without much of a problem, keeping his face calm as he sets everything together within a blank room with nothing but a table in the middle. He set his bag on top of the table and took out his things, changing his regular clothes for the black suit within. Once done, he dawns on the one important thing that will guarantee his entrance and see his gift.

The mask is simple yet extravagant in a way that differs from all the other gangs.

Wires accompany the black box inside and out, the lenses capturing the front view as the screws kept the mask altogether.Putting it on was a difficult but pleasing task, not only covering his face but his identity as a whole. No one will see who he is as he wouldn't see the others for who they are.

It was simple, it was perfect, and as soon as he became his true self the door from afar opened.

A familiar figure stood within the doorway, his head being of another camera similar to his own. He walked back to let the birthday boy inside, their steps cold and calculated as the sounds of a film being played were overheard. At the end of the hallway stood a single steel door that upon opening showcased everyone else.

The room was like a makeshift theatre, fold-up chairs held up and many members sitting down upon them, every one of them looked upon the wall where a movie was played on a projector upon a white sheet of fabric. Walking over towards the projector, the birthday boy looks on as the ‘movie’ played.

It was beautiful.

A story played out by a normal citizen minding their business, likely living their mundane life without noticing that they were being followed. The film goes on without much change other than the fact that the individual’s behavior seems to change over time. At the start, they seemed normal (almost boring) before it continued with them getting worried, their anxieties getting to them as their movements become rushed and erratic.

Before long their heads snap from one corner to the next before they eventually match up to the viewer, their conflicted looks then turned horrified. And without warning, the viewer (or the cameraman actually) runs straight towards them, the scene changing to a sudden chase. There are rushed footsteps, screaming, items thrown and broken, and even distorted images of the individual raising their hands for protection.

The film stops, another figure comes up and takes out the tape, and gives it to the birthday boy.

The birthday boy takes it and inserts it into their mask, pressing the correct buttons known by pure reflex and allowing the tape to be connected to him. He was then led to another room, a door opening to showcase a particular situation, one all too familiar but all too pleasurable.

The same individual in the film was in the room, tied up and screaming to be let go and that they swear to God Himself they wouldn't tell anyone. They were oddly dressed properly with bandages wrapped around their wounds then messed up with their constant moving around. Tears streamed down their face as they kept begging, their screams echoing throughout the room as they watched the birthday boy come close, brandishing their weapon.

A nailed bat.

The others watch the screen, looking on with eagerness as they watch in real-time as the birthday boy lands one of many beatings upon the individual. Their screams add to the film, the blood contrasts with the white of the room, and the camerawork is a phenomenon.

It's such a beautiful film, a classic in the making, truly.

The Jury - Racing

There are plenty of members who have interests that differentiate them, but a large majority of them love cars.

They brag about them, clean them, update them, and even treat them like they are an actual person. Pure beauty and love are poured into the large metal boxes as well as racing down the empty and tattered roads that were Carcer City. And as ‘law-abiding’ as they are they can see how much fun it can be to bend or even break the rules ever now and then.

They zoom past, screaming and yelling out cheers as the birthday boy calls out in excitement. Cheering out as they step on the gas and go way past the speed limit, feeling the car buckle harshly in contact with someone. The body breaking apart and crumbles under the pressure, bones snapping and skin tearing as they lie in a complete heap. They moan, groan, and hiss in agony, their adrenaline on overdrive as their mind struggled to get themselves off the ground.

They were in pain but at the same time, they weren't.

The birthday boy turns their car over, yelling out with joy as the others cheer him on to keep going. ‘The bastard is still breathing, get him, dammit, you're almost there!’ The car rumbled in response to the cheers, the engine jumping and revving up before the wheels churned and rushed over in a rage.

The figure, the criminal, the bastard cried out as the front of the car zoomed in and got closer by each second.

Despite the blood and guts, this birthday couldn't have been any better for the birthday boy because of the durability and beauty of their car.

The Lost - Feast

They don't have enough money.

They wear tattered overlayered clothes, brush back their oily hair, build uneven shelters, and eat uneaten food thrown in the garbage. It wasn't a proper lifestyle, a disgusting one in fact, but it was enough for them to survive. And even with those disgusting films, The Director sets them up with they just trudge on and get some sense of normality by being paid.

So when it's one of the members’ birthdays, one they kept track of through an overused calendar, they try their best to make due.

They set up a comfy setting, bring out a wine bottle, take out a bit of their money to spend on a great present, and have a good time. It's not perfect, even their boss BinBag complains about it before he takes a swing at his bottle and laughs at how cheap it tastes. Nonetheless, he makes a toast, not just for their need to survive but the fact that they’re one more year closer to death.

He was always strange but the others accepted it, just for the sake of taking in their drink to get through the cold night.

They don't have that much at all but they have enough.

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motts-erella · 1 year

Text

An Amateur Cartomancy Reading of The Hazbin Hotel Deck

Looking into the possible meanings (if they exist) behind the character choices of the Official Hazbin Hotel Playing Card Deck This is just for fun, I have an interest in Tarot and Cartomancy, but am not a practitioner myself, if you see this and are a practitioner, feel free to comment or even tag me in your own posts on the subject. It's something that I've always had an interest in since I was teenager and I’d love to hear what you have to say!

Also this is just as a fun exercise, and in truth it's difficult to make accurate readings when much of cartomancy has to do with how the cards are drawn, what cards are drawn next to them, and the context of the question being asked So we're taking this already from only a partial read of the cards themselves.

Alright? Alright let’s go!!!

As you can see the Exorcists here are Jokers, the Trump card to beat all cards, a black and red Joker card also represent the Beginning of a Journey in cartomancy. I think the symbolism is pretty obvious here, not just as a Trump card, but as the Exterminations are what kicks off Charlie’s Story.

Now the deck comes with 3 unique suits, and one classic: Pentagrams, Keys (or Keekees), Hearts and Apples

Now interesting is the Hearts are normal suit so we can directly make comparisons. And since the other red suit is Pentagrams we can slot that in to represent

As for The Clubs and The Spades:

After reviewing both Apple and Keys I am 90% sure that if they're meant to sync up well with their characters then I believe that Apples are The Clubs and Keys are The Spades and this will be my assumption moving forward

Now moving forward this Hellish deck also wouldn't be complete without a special something for its 6s Each 6 has a special lil graphic that gives a small hint for who the king of each suit is. (Except for Pentagrams....maybe...)

Let's start with 6 of Pentagrams. Decorated with hellish eyes. Compared with The Diamonds which often represents money. The 6 of Diamonds represents "what goes around comes around", that you might be being misled by others or even yourself.

The Heart Suit represents Relationships and social aspects of Society The 6 of Hearts is the "Law of Love", a knack for big business that doesn't believe in luck As you can see it looks insectid, with a shiny glassy heart in the middle

The Keys have a familiar looking upside-down cross. The Spades are a Trump suit and the considered most valuable suit. They represent partnership and noble soldiers The 6 of Spades Represents tremendous potential is here if you're willing to accept the responsibility

Side note look at the Worm-Snake taking a bite outta the apple! So cute!!

The Clubs suit represents achievement through work, as well as evoking positive futures The 6 of Clubs is the Messengers Card, a call to duty, temptation of lethargy will tempt this person, but if they overcome it triumph over a great foe will be achieved

Charlie here is our Ace of Apples

Ace of Clubs - Positivity, love, fosters learning, it also can represent an important location (like a hotel?) Which need I say more? That’s pretty on the nose there

Next up is the Jack of Apples Razzle and Dazzle!

Fun Fact about these guys is that they aren't printed twice flipped, they legit Razzle and Dazzle

Jack of The Clubs is known as the Lucky Card! Supposedly it brings happiness and good fortune. It often heralds in a new opportunity

The Queen of Apples is the Queen of Hell Lilith

The Queen of The Clubs is a woman who stands for justice, truth and change. She is a symbol of the need to take action.

Which...is interesting if you look at a blink and you miss it poster in the pilot...hmmm

The King of Apples is of course Lucifer

The King of Clubs is a symbol of taking charge, of determination, and of attracting the attention of someone influential in the world. In cartomancy drawing a King of Clubs means Be Assertive and your goal is within reach which is and interesting possibility for Charlie, that she might need to be Assertive to her father to allow her goal to succeed It's also interesting considering how Lucifer became ruler of hell in the first place, by being Assertive to his father.

Next up Hearts Suit

Ace of Hearts is Cherri Bomb!

As an Ace of Hearts this card represents new love or the start of an emotional journey. This card represents love, happiness and celebration and a strong foundation

(Also there's a tiny Cherri on the bomb and I think that's adorable)

The Jack of Hearts is our dear Spider Boi

The Jack of Hearts represents a person who's going through a difficult time, but will overcome it and start fresh. It is also said that this card represents a man pining for an unobtainable lover or an unrequited love.

The Queen of Hearts is our lovely Velvet of the triple Vs

Interestingly she has her phone as the centerpiece with a little like heart popping off it. Culturally the Queen of Hearts is associated with a chop happy character from Wonderland. Which might be some inspiration here.

But what does it mean? The Queen of Hearts indicates someone with a magnetic personality, the sweetheart, the adored daughter, the favorite sister, the beloved mother. Drawing this card usually is an indication that you are loved, but perhaps require self care yourself

Leaving us with our King of Hearts, Valentino himself

Also known as the Suicide King the King of Hearts is always shown with their weapon (usually a sword) going through their head. Interestingly no weapon is seen, but! -he is holding his signature cigarette whose smoke is implied have some sort of control over Angel Dust.

We'll see when the series comes out, but if his use of this smoke ends up being his undoing I get to say I called it...sorta

That's lovely but what does the King of Hearts MEAN? Well in Cartomancy this King often represents a loyal romantic partner. Which....yeah, who knows I guess.

But it also is an omen that BIG change is coming, could be good or bad, but it is coming and there's no stopping it

Now onto the Key Suit which again we’re using Spades for

Ace of Keys is best girl Vaggie

Vaggie is our Ace of Spades and she looks amazing! Now the Ace of being one of the most important cards in the card is often more elaborate looking, and you can definitely see more attention placed on the colors and defined shape then with the other cards

Ace of Spades is known as the semi mythological Black Spot (no really this was used as the black spot in Caribbean piracy) also known as the Death Card And if your wondering why called it a semi myth, it's because the Black Spot as we know it was invented by the book Treasure Island

Feel free to Google that if you don't believe me, fun little trivia fact for the day

In Cartomancy tho the Card is not a reference to Death, but instead Loyalty. Many Spades Cards represent hardships of some sort. With the Ace representing deep personal troubles.

Jack of Keys belongs to our grumpy boi Husk

Ofcourse he's got card in the center, interestingly it appears to be a 2 of Hearts which means romantic love between 2 people I'm also 90% sure this isn't the first time he's been seen with the 2 of Heart's either..can't confirm tho

In cartomancy the well positioned Jack of Spades is kind of an unstoppable force; primed for success, but that itself is primed to be their downfall The Jack of Spades is often described as a con man, they are sharp and clever, but if they're not careful they will play themselves

Time for the Queen of Keys! Nifty!

Look she's even stabbing the bug from the pilot!

The Queen of Spades is intelligent and clever, using her creativity and organization to outsmart her opponent

The Queen of Spades however is also considered an unlucky card that represents death & change

Also fun fact the Queen of Spades considered the dark mirror of the Queen of Hearts So these two crazy gremlins might be foils to each other

Lastly is The King of Keys, Alastor

The King of Spades is the 'Top Card of the Deck' and represents Power and Self Mastery, Mind over Matter, Head over Heart, and how these powers can be used for creation or destruction

Also ironically depending on how it's drawn The King of Spades can also represent an obstacle or problem in the work place and if that's not a little on the nose I don't know what is

Onto the Pentagrams which we’re again using Diamonds for

Ace of Pentagrams is Helsa Von Eldritch, an apparent rival to Charlie, who is Ace of Apples

Diamonds itself represents money and the Ace of Diamonds is all about Value and Wealth. It is a warning about when money becomes more important than people

The Jack of Pentagramssss issss our dear Sssir Pentiousssss

Jack of Diamonds typically represent someone who is always fidgeting and working with their hands. Very smart and productive.

It's a card that often flip flops on whether it means good or bad luck. And it sometimes represents crime and even deception! Generally tho the Jack of Diamonds is potential just waiting to be realized

Queen of Pentagrams is my gurl Rosie

Queen of Diamonds typically represent a philanthropist contributing their wealth to the arts. They typically are used to mean your relationship between yourself and a wealthy benefactor

And lastly drum roll everyone, the King of Pentagrams Vox

The King of Diamonds is a shrewd cunning business man. A "wheeler dealer" type. The King cards represent Power and Diamonds represent money and that's what the King has in spades. The King of Diamond's is willing to gamble cause they have all the money in the world, and they rarely ever lose.

With that I close off this reading. Like I said on my first post this is coming from someone who's not a professional at this sort of thing, and this was more or less for fun.

Did they line them up like this on purpose?

Can the reads be all just coincidence?

Absolutely!

We won't know until the show comes out if the reads or cards are accurate, but it was a lot of fun to dive down this rabbit hole and find some possible connections!

Anyway have a wonderful day everyone! Hope you had some fun!

#long post #like loooooong post #Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel theory #come along with me on my madness #Charlie Morningstar #Alastor #Angel Dust #Vagatha #Hazbin Hotel Husk #The Triple Vs #sir pentious

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deadal3x · 1 year

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Seeing Double

Based loosely on this art made by @doberart! If you see this, I hope you enjoy!

Henry sighed happily, watching as his two boys played excitedly in the summer sun. they giggled and laughed as they tossed a football back and forth.

The ex-animator was pulled from his thoughts when his wife Linda walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “there’s a letter for you,” she said, handing it to him. “it’s from a place called Archgate studios.” Henry frowned for a moment, inspecting the letter.

He knew they had just recently acquired the rights to all the cartoons and characters from his old friend, Joey’s studio, but he didn’t know that Joey had said anything about him. carefully opening it, Henry read the letter.

Dear Mr. Stein,

you may not know me, but I feel as if I know you pretty well. My name is Audrey, and well.. I’m Joey’s daughter. There’s a lot I’d love to explain to you, but it won’t all fit in one letter. if you can, come by Archgate studios.

there’s a lot I’d like to show you.

your new pal,

Audrey Drew

Henry frowned, re-reading the letter. Glancing over to his wife, he sighed. She had stared at him, waiting patiently for an explanation. “It’s Joey’s daughter. She wants me to meet her at Archgate studios.” He explained, watching as she frowned.

“I thought moving to Pasadena, we’d get away from all that.” She said softly, looking out at their kids still shrieking with excitement in the yard. “are you going?” She asked, a hint of sadness in her tone. Henry looked at the letter, reading it again; after a moment, he looked back up at his wife, nodding.

“be safe, Henry. and come home to me.” she said, placing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll tell the boys where you’ve gone. I love you.” Henry smiled, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll be okay, I love you too.”

-~-

When Henry arrived at Archgate studios, he was honestly expecting a more lively place. instead, it held the same sense of dread and dreariness Joey Drew Studios held before he left, all those years ago. he sighed, and walked into the studio.

“Hello?” he said into the empty reception hall. “Audrey?” he frowned, slowly turning in a circle as he inspected the many poster that decorated the walls. “Audrey?” he called again, looking around some more

“Oh, Mr. Stein!” A voice came from his right, he realized, as he turned to face it. a woman stood in front of him, short, curly black hair done up nicely. he smiled and stuck out a hand.

“you can call me Henry, no need for formalities.” he said, shaking her hand. “So, your letter mentioned Joey?” he decided to cut to the chase, not wanting to spend too much time away from his family. “you also said you had something to show me?”

“oh right.” Audrey sighed, and led Henry down further into the studio. “before I show you what’s in this room, you have to promise me,” She said, standing in front of an office door. “that you won’t tell another soul.” Henry stepped back for a moment, his expression changing to one more serious.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said, watching as she relaxed for a moment. “What is it?” he asked, as Audrey moved to open the door.

what was on the other side shocked the old animator to his core.

“Bendy..?” he breathed, kneeling down. the small toon hid behind Audrey’s leg, looking up at her. “hey, kiddo, I won’t hurt you.” he said, finding himself offering a hand to this creature.

“He’s scared…you look like someone we know, but you aren’t him.” Audrey said, as Henry stood. “That’s the other thing.” Audrey and Henry entered the room, and Henry froze.

He was staring at himself.

except this version of him was Sepia-toned, ink stained his clothes and his face. did henry really look that old?

That Tired?

The animator lifted a hand, waving cautiously. The sepia-tone version of him waved back- in the exact same manor.

“What the-”

-~-

“Ok, so..” Henry said, sitting with Audrey, and the other Henry; a cup of coffee in hand. “Joey created a hellish world to torment this version of me, and you inherited it?” He asked, watching as they glanced at each other before nodding. “And he wanted a kid so he used the ink machine to create you?” Audrey nodded, holding up her hand.

“I’m made of ink,” she said, bending her finger back like it was nothing. “but living flesh and blood.” She explained. “Somehow, his creations are escaping into this world.” Henry- the real world one, nodded, sipping on his coffee.

“I don’t understand why this place is hellish. its a cartoon.” Henry said, “shouldn’t it be funny?” Ink Henry sighed, shaking his head sadly. “why can’t you explain it?”

“Because you’re better off not knowing the horrors I faced. the horrors Allison and Sammy and-” Ink Henry cut himself off, staring at the real world version of himself. “Do you really want to know what I went through?”

Henry nodded. the ink world version of him grabbed his arm, his eyes glowing a brilliant gold. “Then see.”

Suddenly, he was within a sepia toned world, echos of memories played on repeat within his head.

“Have you seen him? the Ink Demon?” A disfigured Alice angel laughed as Henry ran from a beast that sported Bendy’s smile. his head ached as he fell forward, suddenly a man sporting a mask that resembled Bendy’s face stood in front of him, preaching the Ink demon. “come my lord, and take this sheep!” He cried.

Henry wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. he sat up suddenly, a perfect Boris in front of him. for a moment he felt calm- but that was ripped from him as he watched that perfect dog get ripped from him- a disfigured and ruined beast that held Boris’s face attacking him. Henry felt guilty, watching as his old pal died. thousands of names whispered throughout the studio as he marched on, an Alice wielding a sword walking with a Boris that sported a mechanical arm by his sides. The scenery changed and he was facing a large terrifying beast, his smile and teeth threatening as Henry dived- placing a reel of film into a protector. Suddenly the protector stood, its inky arms grabbing Henry. the animator screamed, flailing to get the new monster off of him. he fell from the arms of the creature, into Joey’s apartment.

He ran for the door, only to open it and reenter the studio- to repeat the cycle again. Henry could hear screaming, and he quickly realized it was himself. he threw things across the main studio floor, anger and fear bubbling up inside him.

“Am I real?!” he shouted to no one in particular. “Am I really Henry Stein?! Where’s my wife?! Joey WHERE IS SHE?!”

The yelling stopped as he entered a room, staring into a mirror. golden tears fell from his eyes, as realization filled his senses. He’s not really Henry. he has no Linda to return home to. he’s stuck here, suffering, dying over and over and over and over-

“HENRY!” Audrey shouted, grabbing the animator. he was on the floor, yelling in pain. he gasped, forcing himself up. he stared at his twin, eyes full of tears.

“You..” he gasped, his head aching with pain. “all of that?”

“all of that. on repeat.” Henry nodded, noticing how his counterparts eyes faded back to normal. “We can’t let people like Alice or the ink demon out. Audrey was able to stop the-” he sighed, looking serious. “leak- for lack of a better word; for now but we think you can help.”

Henry nodded, finally understanding what his other self was explaining. “I have one request. I have to tell Linda.” Audrey shook her head, eyes widen with fear.

“No! you promised!”

“Audrey, I can’t help you and be with her at the same time,” He said calmly. “Not with the two boys that is.” He heard ink henry gasp, his expression softening.

“two boys?” Henry smiled and pulled out his wallet, showing off a picture of the two teenagers.

“Benjamin and Michael. absolute rascals but I love em so much.” he said, a sense of pride rising in his chest. “now, can I tell Linda?”

“alright alright. but we have to get started soon; I don’t know how long my patch will hold.”

#henry and henry meet #BATIM #BATDR #BATIM writings #DeadAlex writes #Doberart inspired this #I got inspired when scrolling tumblr this morning #as one does #Bendy and the ink machine #Bendy and the dark revival #Bendy Fanfic #Henry fanfic #audrey batdr #Alice angel #Allison angel #Tom boris #boris #cyclebreakers

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toofasttoocool · 5 months

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Hajime the Stud (Money Universe)

Some of you seem very interested in the story of Trophy wife Hiyoko and Housewife Mikan, so I decided to elaborate on the three different protagonists of this story.

Hajime:

The ultimate stud, the man, the machine.

If Catichi and Makostud are still moderate in their alphaness, Chajime just sweats testosterone. At 6'8 tall and with the muscles to go with it, Hajime is the only of the main trio who doesn't share his wealth origins with his wife (or wives in his case). No, he is a self-made man, the biggest (both literally and figuratively) man of all Japan,he is always either working or pumping some weights. Despite being by far the strongest man of all time, he never neglects his training,but that would be forgetting that Hajime is also the biggest stud.

Even compared to the already impressive, rich and pretty boys that compose the main trio,Hajime stands out, being way more "rugged and handsome" than "cute and huggable", contrary to the others, who are more passive, Hajime is a man of action, way more of a "Bullrusher" than the forever "safe bet" Makoto and the socialist*Shuichi,he has the intuition to succed, and it paid off with a fortune of 273 billions, Hajime is always on the search for a new opportunity.

And of course, no stud wouldn't be complete without sex.

Hajime is basically the ultimate sex machine. Always ready, always ready, always full and always at least half hard,he beat the impressive Catichi 35 inches and Makoto 34 by being 39,he got almost no withdrawal period and cannot be fully empty,a beast.

He is also the biggest anal and ass lover of the bunch,and his wives know it,speaking about them...

Hiyoko

The first wife of Hajime.

All started when she was 21 and started to get tired of doing loli fanservice to pay the bills. Sure, "traditional dancing." sounds good on paper, but in reality it was more of providing soft core porn for degenerate (males), and knowing she would be fired very soon due to her advancing age,ever the proud woman, she preferred to quit this idol business.

One would not expect someone like Hiyoko to work a full time job and that was the case,she quickly got relegated to doing a wage cuck job serving fries.

That was until she was reminded, catching on TV on that rising superstar of politics:Hajime Hinata.

How could that fucking low blood have succeeded when she failed?It was unbearable. Ready to kick out the client who had been waiting for his fries and burger for 10 minutes, she reminded herself that he always found her attractive, and let's be honest...;for a low blood, he was...kinda of cool,and sexy...and had a big chest...and was smart.

Trying her luck, she went for him and "seduce" him (read: bow at his feet to take her whatever way she wanted, which Hajime despite the absolute cringe of that demand, accepted willingly.

The first night together was hellish for Hiyoko as she had to play Onahole for this beast,but she was ready to endure anything to not go back to being a worker.

1 month after her relationship, thanks to hormones and surgery, her ass was already getting bigger, but to her dismay, her size didn't increase, she would stay a 4'2 shortstack all her life,to compensate for that she started to take more of those growing hormones and multiples implants, as well as wearing flashy kimonos and platform geta.

Hiyoko the trophy wife was born,and she would profit of that.

More bratty and arrogant than ever, she loves to step on people and flaunt her husband's money everywhere, she calls him "daddy" both on the street and in the sheets, with injected lips always decorated of her trademark yellow lipstick and a body made of 85 percent ass, she twerks her way through high society.

She has sex with her beloved daddy at least 10 times a day, as he uses his giant twintails as handles for rough riding.

She also developed a taste for spanking due to her bratty personality being corrected that way by her hubby.

She wouldn't fuck any other man,as none deserve her.

With her status not only back, but even better, Hiyoko is ready to be bratty until the end of her life, bathing in gold and jealousy.

Mikan

The second wife of Hajime.

Mikan made her career as a nurse, and the best one with that, until that day,a cold day of september.

People in her hospital found out about her experiment on patients, she injected them with all kinds of different products, as a way to find out how to eradicate disease.

That affair was heavily featured on TV and social media, as Mikan was convicted of the murder of 15 peoples and illegal exercise of medicine.

The whole thing was a parody of justice, as all the other nurses, doctors were dropping on the poor nurse charges that never were in question.

Neither the judge or the mass media would accept the girl crying and justification, despite her best efforts, she was truly alone on this one.

Except for one man.

Appearing with his famous kimono wearing wife under his arm, he took on the role of the defense in this trial, bringing two of the best lawyers of his generation that money can buy:Wolvang Akire and Kakeru Yamaguchi.

Against all odds, the charge of murder was dropped justifiy to an "possible accident link to medical malpractice and uncaring behaviors from the responsible for the hospitals"Mikan ended up only serving for her medical charge,and despite the 2 year sentence, she only ended up serving 1 month, thanks to...some help from a mysterious benefactor.

Mikan fell in love with Hajime at that moment, madly in love with him.

Unable to do anything related to medicine anymore, she settles for being a housewife, rarely leaving the house, she enjoys the comfort of life with her Husband.

She love him,so much, and she will protect him no matter what.

She will do anything for him, including modify her own body to grow a hyper ass to serve him well, and she did, having the biggest butt of all the dr girls,Hiyoko being 10 cm behind (a thing she never accepted).Contrary to most of them,the only thing to blame is the hormones,all of her body is 100 percent natural.

When she is not taking care of the house, she sends pornographic videos of herself to her husband, when she is not, she is rewatching their sex tape and masturbating for up to 5 hours a day.

Mikan became the perfect Yandere wife, teaming up with her rival Hiyoko to make sure no girls would steal Hajime away.

She has sex with Hajime at least 12 times a day, is completely and utterly submissive to her husband, and sees herself as the princess being saved from the dragon by the knight in shining armor.

She is excellent at domestic task, when Hiyoko is awful at it.

She has no interest in money or fancy objects, the only object she finds value in is her wedding ring, who is her treasure.

*Here to be taken in the opposite of economic liberalism.

#Money universe #hajimexhiyoko #HajimeXMikan #NsfwLight #Hajime the chad

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skzfairyy · 1 year

Text

District 9: Chapter 1

Mafia!AU || skz x OC’s || PG-17 ||

Pairings: Bangchan x oc, Minsung x oc, other pairings to come!

Genre: Angst, Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Humor, AU (& so much more lol)

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, weapons, language

Status: Ongoing

Wc: 2.4k words

AN: You’ll see a lot of “FB” and “EOF” within this series, it simply means “flashback” and “end of flashback” we figured we should clear that up pretty early, and since Chapter 1 was already pretty long, we decided to split it up haha. See you in two weeks! ~ Y2K

*(AGE 19)- THE SHIFT:

Graduating from these hellish academies may seem like a joyous occasion for some. But for Stray Kids and the Choi’s? Their hell was just beginning.

Yura and Rina were placed in quarters with their guardians, Hwasa and Moonbyul as they took on teaching positions during the day, and became the perfect deadly agents they were trained to be at night. As each girl skillfully completed each of their missions, racking up an impressive body count, they became the most prized possessions of 2ne1 Academy, and their reputations garnered respect throughout all of District 9.

Their duties behind closed doors were always impeccable, which is why they were chosen along with a few other agents to watch over tournament day for the trainees under their care. Seeing as their version of field day was held at 2ne1’s advanced outdoor training arena behind the academy, the girls didn’t have to go far to help make sure things run smoothly.

Moonbyul was the head professor and trainer in charge of the event ever since she started it with headmaster Taecyeon of the 2pm School all those years ago. And this year would be the girls' first time not participating.

As bittersweet as it sounds, Choi Yura is a fresh graduate of her academy with the highest position in combat, as well as Moonbyul’s personal trainee. Her attendance would be just as important today as her mother's and she planned to not be late.

In true Yura fashion, she chose one of her favorite black mini dresses to wear, this one was a high neckline dress with short sleeves, and a simple cutout atop her breast area. It was made completely of her usual spandex-like training material. Making her outfit flexible if she was needed to handle anything that got out of hand. No longer a student, she was finally able to wear her new combat heeled boots that she says “gives me an advantage in height and in battle”.

She displayed her weapons proudly on her body as she placed her dual blades into a new position, a secured harness crossing them in the middle of her back. The curly bob she once had as a teenager had grown out reaching her shoulders. Since she wasn’t fighting today she decided to just wear her black hair naturally with two braids going back into a simple half up half down hairstyle. Too distracted by everything else in the works. Her final touch was the one silver dangle earring paired with a small hoop she always wore, and the golden emblem of her school pinned to her shirt, indicating that she was no longer a student but an administrator for today's events.

With much to get done, Yura would find her sister somewhere on the field later. Byul and Yura were needed in the early morning so they left before Hwasa or Rina could wake.

The latter would be put in charge of the students competing today versus the entire event. Rina would be in charge of the sixth-year students this year since their rounds would be the most intense. Her outfit this morning was similar but different from her younger counterpart. Always opting for a pair of shorts, especially during an outdoor event like this, she chose her black combat shorts and paired them with a simple cropped black t-shirt made of similar material as her sister's dress. Her blades and pistol were secured on her sides as she wore her usual combat boots. Her ears are decorated with studded earrings and they’re on display as she opted for a high ponytail for today's events, leaving her black curls falling beautifully behind her. Also securing her golden pin to her shirt, Rina and Hwasa move to gather their students for the day and lead them outside where many competitors have already arrived and are walking about the campus.

Located at the grand entrance of the academy, were the buses full of students from the neighboring schools, as well as their own chaperones. Coming off of the bus in matching uniforms of dark camouflage pants with black short-sleeved muscle training shirts, and matching boots were the members of Stray Kids. Their silver emblem was pinned to their shirts as all four of them moved to get their boys lined up and sent to the arena for the morning ceremony.

Bangchan was in strict teacher mode for the unit of students he was in charge of, running through the rules and expectations of their own school before allowing them to leave from his view. He was not a student anymore, now that he works for the academy their eyes aren’t on him or his friends. Yet he still felt a need to be on his best behavior today, as well as the others that were brought with him.

Changbin and Minho were finishing up their own speeches with their units when Jisung finally stepped off the bus. He quietly moves over to where Bangchan is and stands at attention not too far away from him. His eyes can’t help but wander, taking in the very busy and active field behind him.

“Chris, the opening ceremony is about to start.” He says turning back towards their group.

Chan notices the flood of people heading over to the main arena and leads their boys in that direction. As their students move as one unit ahead of them, their trainers fall in pace with each other in the back.

“Today’s the day!” Changbin smacks the back of his leader’s back hard. “Are you excited? You haven’t seen Rina since…”

He makes eye contact with a scowling Chris which makes him turn away, instantly dropping the rest of his sentence and dispersing into the crowd.

A month ago the boys were placed on a night mission to secure an art piece for each of the academies and the Choi twins were sent to team up with them. On the ground were Yura, Rina, Bangchan, and Changbin. Back in the van directing them and guiding them out of enemy territory was Minho and Jisung. Everything went relatively smoothly except for one little hiccup.

FB*

“You two choose to fight right now?” Rina whisper yells to her partner as they move quickly through the field of junk separating them from their van parked in a discreet location.

Yura had successfully grabbed both artifacts from the guarded bunker and handed them off to Changbin who had left for the van moments before them. Bangchan had gone to take the guards down at the entrance when the girls were spotted. The two acted quickly as Rina aimed for their chests, shooting two security guards as Yura managed to pry open a nearby window. They both moved quickly through the night along the side of the older building. An alarm sounded as their face masks were adjusted on their face.

Minho began shouting orders to them through their communications piece, barking to turn around and take another route. Yura chose to ignore him and continue to guide them along the way.

“Yura, I am literally standing in front of the monitor right now. And I'm telling you to turn. Around.” His voice is strained through gritted teeth as he speaks, the irritation being quite clear with his words.

“Yeah and as someone who just left 5 guards shooting at me, I’m gonna have to disrespectfully disagree Minho.” She’s just as snarky with her response.

Rina trails closely behind with her gun out. She’s been listening for the sound of people around them as well as having to hear the back and forth of her sister and their teammate. Her own patience wearing thin with the two’s on-going feud.

Before Yura moves ahead around another corner, Rina stops her. Cutting her next gory threat to Minho short as they both hear footsteps moving in fast from the path in front of them.

“Don’t shoot!” Minho says to the two.

“Minho shut the fuck up for two seconds, there’s no time for us to duck and hide anywhere else.” Yura responds, her and Rina’s guns are in hand and aimed as the footsteps get closer.

“Yura if you had any ounce of brain cells left you’d fucking listen to me when i’m giving you direct instructions! Turn! Around!” Minho retorts.

“Wait, Killer, he's right. Don’t sh–” Jisung’s calm voice cuts through as well.

But the girls acted first.

The stranger’s body rounds the corner and Rina shoots instantly, her gun pierces him somewhere on his side, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud.

“You fucking– That was Chan!” Minho yells in both their ears.

“What?!” they say in unison.

Rina holsters her gun instantly and moves to Chan’s side.

“Shit!.” Her hands find the bullet wound.

She turns his body over checking for an exit wound. The man does nothing but moan and groans as she moves his body around like a limp noodle.

“There’s no exit wound, I can't check it out here though, I’ll try to cover this up and get to you guys. Changbin!?”

Rina’s communicating to their last member knowing damn well he heard everything.

“On my way back boss.” His voice is quick as he realizes they’re no longer in a position to joke around.

Rina is fast as she rips off her black sleeve to cover the bullet wound. Her legs are moving to straddle him to get a better angle, noting how her small sleeve is already getting soaked. With a glance to her sister who’s on guard behind her, she lifts her shirt up and off her body and tears it down the middle, wrapping it around Bangchan’s torso and securing it tightly against his wound. Once it’s secured Rina leans over his body and lightly taps his cheeks to get his attention.

Bangchan finally is able to barely lift his eyes open, a bit dazed from the injury. Feeling a warm weight on top of him, he lifts his head, his eyes focusing as he takes in her face. He then notices her lack of a shirt, exposed skin, and sports bra in his direct view. With the lack of blood in his system his head began to spin as his eyes fluttered shut instantly, knocking him out cold.

“Chan? Chan! Christopher, seriously!”

Rina groans as she watches his head fall back with his eyes shut.

“Chan just passed out.” Rina sighs into her comms.

Yura meanwhile, has taken down two guards that found them, she spots Changbin not far from them and moves to call out to him.

“Oi! Jigglypuffs! Hurry up, your papa bear just passed out from catching a glimpse of heaven.”

She glances behind her at Chan’s limp body and Rina’s attempts of slapping him awake.

As Changbin moves to lift up Bangchan’s limp body. Rina turns and glances at Yura, a quick nod of confirmation from the two has Rina directing Changbin out of the alleyway, leaving Yura alone. Seeing as this was the best option for Chan’s health, plus Yura could make it back to the van with the help of their teammate.

“Hey Stink, tell your rabid dog to take the backseat for two seconds, I need you to guide me out of here.”

Jisung glances at Minho with slightly red cheeks, the nickname catching them both off guard.

“I’d rather eat glass than help her again anyway.” Minho hands his headpiece over to his partner, kissing his temple gently before moving to stand outside the van, awaiting his friend's arrival.

“Okay Killer, take a right here. The layout is kind of like in league when we fought the boss from level 78.” Jisung moves quickly pulling her location up and chatting with her happily until she arrives at their location.

By the time Yura arrives, everyone’s inside the van. She bangs on the door three times, as Minho slides it open. The two stare harsh, deadly daggers at each other. Yura’s black dress is a bit more bloodied than how she last left everyone but she says nothing to him as she climbs inside. Chan is being looked over by Rina in the corner, her head lifts briefly to scan her sister’s injuries before turning back to the unconscious boy below her. Changbin moves to drive the van, and Minho takes the passenger side, unable to be in that small of a confined space with the younger Choi girl. Jisung is busy at his makeshift comms table, cleaning off the artifacts as the van takes off into the night.

Yura’s body jolts at the sudden takeoff, falling in the lap of Jisung. His arm is fast to wrap around her waist, stabilizing her while still focused on his task.

“Yura do you not have ears? Do they not fucking work?” Minho’s been stewing on what he’d say to the girl once she arrived and they made it to safety. “If I say don’t shoot, what fucking sense would it make to fire your fucking gun?” He turns in his seat, eyes full of fire as he looks to her.

The girl was quite tired herself after having to fend off and fight her way back to the van. Having someone who wasn’t even her leader nor her boss lay into her for something that she didn’t even do was making her jaw tick in a way that would make this entire van a whole lot bloodier if he wasn’t careful with his words. Jisung’s hand squeezes her gently, only enough for her to notice. That squeeze gave her a slight calming feeling as her eyes did not back down from the hound not far from her. Even Changbin glances at Minho, not particularly fond of how he was speaking to Yura.

“For fucks sake, I shot Chan. We heard footsteps coming so I shot. It wasn’t all Yura’s fault so quit pointing the fucking blame on her while I’m trying to save your friend’s life Lee Minho.”

Rina’s authoritative tone comes out just as harsh as Minho's. Her eyes shoot him sharp daggers, completely over the childish bickering between the two and the insults he kept throwing at her exhausted sister.

“We finished the mission, we’re heading home. So everyone just shut the fuck up.”

Her eyes snapped back to her tasks of dressing Chan’s wounds while everyone did as they were told. Yura ended up passing out in Jisung’s arms, unable to hold back her fatigue much longer. Changbin did his best to distract Minho up front, carrying on conversations that led them all the way to their schools.

Y2K masterlist || series masterlist || last || next ||

#District9 #y2k stories #skz mafia au #skz x oc #skz x reader #straykids #bangchan x oc #kpop #minsung x oc #ChangBin #lee know #Han #seungmin #hyunjin #i.n.#jisung #mafia au #minsung

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134340am · 2 years

Text

come again, see you soon

todoroki shouto x gn!reader, 1k words, no quirks + cw food + sfw based on this silly little headcanon

“hello, welcome.”

the smooth, deep tone of the new employee behind the counter had you looking up from your phone in surprise.

as per your usual wednesday afternoon routine, you made it to the on-campus froyo shop just in time to catch their student discount window from two to five p.m..

over the semester, your weekly visit to the humble dessert spot has become the number one thing you looked forward to every midweek—a sweet treat to comfort yourself after the gruelling three-hour seminar you have to put yourself through every wednesday.

on a normal day, you’d be greeted with the cheerful chirp of a green-haired boy you’ve come to know as deku—who’s been the one to serve you your weekly cup of happiness with a bashful, but genuine smile.

today, however, you were met with a pair of the most breathtaking grey and turquoise eyes you’ve ever seen, staring earnestly back at you.

“um, good— good afternoon,” you stutter in greeting, and inwardly cringe at how easily you were affected by this new employee’s striking good looks.

aside from his outrageously beautiful eyes that follow your figure as you walk up to the counter, you also found yourself enamoured with the sharp slope of his nose, the cute tufts of red and white hair sticking out from under his cap, and his pouty pink lips that part to speak—

“what can i get you today?” he asks, and you feel your heart clench at the way his voice sounded much deeper up close. his words seem to flow into your ears the way your favourite song does, settling in the back of your brain in a cloudy haze.

while a part of you was still bummed you wouldn’t be seeing deku’s sweet smile today (which also meant you won’t be getting extra toppings or a chance to talk about the new all might movie coming out later—which is probably why deku’s gone, anyway), you were still thrilled at the sight of the handsome young man standing before you.

what a treat, especially after that hellish quiz, you thought to yourself, and in no way were you referring to the cup of frozen yoghurt you were about to purchase.

“you can take your time,” the pretty boy says. silence ensues for a brief moment, before it was interrupted by the sound of m&ms being stirred around.

that was when you realised you were spacing out, staring straight at the pretty boy’s face without saying a single word. embarrassment floods your being, and you feel the back of your ears start to heat up.

“um, sorry ‘bout that. i’m ready to order,” you explain, gaze dropping from the stranger’s face to his name tag. shouto, it reads, void of any decoration. somehow the simplicity suits him. “can i please get an original, regular cup? um, please.”

pretty boy—shouto, you mean—blinks once, twice.

“sorry, but we’re out of original.” he points to the signboard behind him. a big OUT OF STOCK, SORRY! :( sign was plastered over it, written in bold blue letters that you definitely wouldn’t have missed, if not for your momentary weakness in the face of one very charming stranger. “we have strawberry cheesecake, though. it’s our new seasonal flavour,” he continues, pointing at the signboard right next to your beloved original flavour.

“alrightsurethen.” your words come out in a rush of air you didn’t know you were holding in. heat rises up your neck to your cheeks, and you cringe again at how unnaturally you were acting.

if shouto thought anything of your behaviour, he didn’t say anything. you take your time marvelling at the way his broad back tapered down to his slim waist, his plain black tee shirt cinched in by the contrasting soft beige of the froyo shop’s standard issue apron. you made sure to avert your eyes quickly the moment he turned back with your cup, now filled with a towering swirl of red and cream.

“your toppings?”

“um, strawberries, granola, and…” you trailed off, eyes fixed on the way shouto’s lithe fingers wrap around the little plastic scoop in every topping bin. “...gummy bears.”

he raises an eyebrow at your unusual topping choice, but you decide against saying anything more to avoid embarrassing yourself further.

shouto rings you up and that went by smoothly, thank goodness, because you don’t think you’d be able to handle a minute more interacting with a man as attractive as him. it helped that there was barely anyone in the little shop, with most students still stuck in their afternoon classes.

shouto sets your cup atop the glass counter with a napkin and a loyalty card. on closer inspection, you realised the card had three stamps on it, indicating three visits. free upsize, reads the text compacted in the fourth bubble.

before you could present shouto with your old dog-eared, half-filled loyalty card, or ask him about the two extra stamps he must have given you by accident, you were interrupted by the gentle baritone of his voice.

“thank you, please come again.” he says, a soft, polite smile adorning his face.

“yeah, um, you too,” you mumble, your brain short-circuiting, and whatever concerns you had melted away on your tongue when you take your cup from shouto and feel his fingertips brush against yours.

“i will.”

“sorry, what?” fuck. what did you say again?

“i will come again,” he nods, eyes shining with a hint of mirth and mischief. “i’ll be here tomorrow till sunday, two to closing. if you want to visit, that is.”

“o-oh! um, sure!” you squeaked out, barely containing your elation. does this mean he wanted you to come back? and see him? “see you, shouto.”

you wave your cup awkwardly, suppressing a yelp when the swirled tower of yoghurt sways precariously, already melting.

shouto smiles, an indescribable fondness in his expression. “see you soon, y/n.”

a/n: thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

(masterlist)

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #shouto fluff #shoto fluff #bnha imagines #yuna writes

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lady-jane-asher · 1 year

Text

Jane Asher and Gerald Scarfe photographed at home, 1987.

Part 1 out of 2.

WHY DONT WE CARE

Of course most people would say that we do— but actress Jane Asher knows different. She knows only too well how a moment's carelessness can put your child in danger. And in her new book, she asks why we don't do more to keep our children safe. Mary Fletcher reports. Picture by Sandra Lousada.

Jane Asher sweeps in the front door, dumps a bag of supermarket shopping in one corner, rings her cartoonist husband Gerald Scarfe in his studio upstairs to tell him she's home, checks for messages, pats the dog, and removes the children's toys from the sofa. As one of those energetic people who likes to do several things at once, she has been up since seven, made breakfast for Katie, 14, Alexander, six and four-year-old Rory, driven them to school, done a telephone interview, spent the rest of the morning at her publisher's and been to Marks and Spencer to buy Gerald a pair of trousers. Now, with an hour to spare before another school run, she can sit down in her beautiful Chelsea home and chat. But you get the feeling she'd much prefer to be doing something useful, like icing a cake, learning a script or whipping up a gourmet dinner for six. Preferably all at the same time.

Since her mother took her to an acting agent at the age of five, largely because she was bright, pretty and had flame-coloured hair, Jane has never stopped doing things. She would have you believe she's totally inefficient. Yet it's hard to believe that being actress, author, columnist, charity worker, wife and mother all just get squeezed into her life higgledy-piggledy. "I'm always in a muddle. I rush from one thing to another and never quite get anything done,” she says unconvincingly.

“Gerald laughs when he sees me being called Superwoman because he knows what I'm like when I'm in a bad mood, rushing around shouting at the children and he's eating cornflakes for lunch!"

According to Jane, even child-rearing is being accomplished only by absentmindedly dropping one now and then, or having another one break bone by falling off a bike or a playhouse. It's reassuring to hear her say she's not the perfect mother. Otherwise her eighth and latest book might read like a guilt inducing lecture. Called Keep Your Baby Safe, it sets out every calamity that could possibly befall a baby up to the age of three: choking, cot death, concussion and cat scratches, dehydration, diarrhoea, dog bites, drowning. stings, snake bites, scalds, and sunburn.

As a list of all the ghastly things that can happen to a toddler, it's enough to put you off starting a family for all time. Which is certainly not Jane's intention.

She wrote it because she was asked and has ended up enormously proud of a handbook, which she hopes, unlike her fun books on cake decoration and fancy dress, might actually do some good. "It's difficult to mention everything that could cause an accident without making it seem as if life's not worth trying,” she says. "I've tried to keep the tone light, but at the same time I felt I had to put everything in. "You'd be a saint if you brought your children up without anything ever happening to them. You can't be vigilant every single second and there are some accidents that, no matter how careful you are, will happen anyway. But if the book helps to stop even one tragedy, then I feel it will have been worthwhile.”

As a mother of three, Jane admits to personal experience of at least some of the disasters she advises others to avoid. Even while writing the book, her son Alexander suffered a broken elbow and Rory a scalded foot. “ It's awful when you start looking back -you sound like some hopeless parent permanently tripping over them and throwing them downstairs," she says. "But you'd do anything to avoid your child being in pain. When Alexander broke his elbow, the feeling I had as a mother was m indescribable. It was the most hellish time of my life. When he was in the hospital screaming in agony, the sense of helplessness was absolutely ghastly the worst possible thing one could imagine. I remember my mother always said how she wished she could have the pain for us and I knew then exactly what she meant. Somehow the guilt of knowing that perhaps you could have prevented it makes it worse." Alexander's elbow is now back in working order, but the accident reinforced Jane's belief that not enough attention is paid to child safety.

(continued in the next post).

#jane asher #gerald scarfe #mother #80s #1987 #article #motherhood #book #the beatles #beatles girls #beatles girl #beatles women #redhead #red hair #lady jane asher #something about jane asher #ebay

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aeoki · 1 year

Text

Toyland - Chapter 7

Location: Soundproof Lesson Room Characters: Hinata, Touri, Yuuta & Yuzuru

Hinata: Thanks for waiting! The hellish training shall now begin~♪

Yuuta: Aniki. What exactly are we doing for this hellish training anyway?

Hinata: Hmm~ Breathing fire from our mouths and juggling on balls? Kids love extraordinary performances~

We could also hang on a swing in mid-air too. That was a lotta fun during “Circus”, right, Yuuta-kun? ♪

Yuuta: Honestly, I was drenched in sweat from all the nerves, though… We’re not using the stage for “Circus”, so swinging through the air would be hard to pull off.

But maybe we could manage the fire-breathing?

The kids loved when you acted like a fool during “Halloween Party”.

Hinata: How could you, Yuuta-kun~? You enjoyed it too.

Anyway, what should we get Hime-kun and Fushimi-senpai to do~? Should we teach them how to breathe fire? And then become fire-breathing pros and take over the world~?

Touri: Stop saying something so stupid!

Be serious, Hinata. I asked you guys to join since I figured you two would know what performances would make kids happy.

But you guys say scary stuff the moment you open your mouths. Are you trying to cut my lifespan short!?

Anyway, what about Long-Hair? The President isn’t feeling well, so I know he had no choice but to rest.

But Long-Hair is as healthy as always. I’m not happy seeing how it’s just me and Yuzuru who is subject to your unreasonable training!

Hinata: Long-Hair…? Oh~ you mean Hibiki-senpai? There’s nothing we can teach him! If anything, we’re the ones who wanna learn from him!

It seems Hibiki-senpai learnt all his tricks the right way, unlike us who’re self-taught. Teaching someone like that would be the same as teaching a fish to swim.

Come on, enough with the complaints and let’s get this training started~

All you have to do is blow the fuel into the fire, so you should be able to do it too, Hime-kun ♪

Oh, don’t accidentally breathe in the fuel, though. If you do, you might get pneumonia and end up walking in the land of the dead!

Touri: H-How is that something easy!? Are you seriously trying to kill me~!?

Isn’t there something else that would make kids happy!? Umm, for example~

Yuzuru: Hm, how about balloon art? It’s very popular with children so I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed.

Yuuta: Oh, that’s a good idea! We can decorate the venue with it and hand them out to the kids. You’re okay with that too, right, Aniki?

Hinata: Yeah, balloon art doesn’t take long to make and we’ve got balloons right here. Tadaa~♪

Yuuta: How did you… I wish you’d use those skills to find work for us instead.

Umm, we’ll puff up the balloons, so could you guys help us make the actual balloon art?

Hinata: Let’s make a little doggy first~ Everything’s gotta start from the basics and nothing can be done without it! I’ll show you how to make one~ *Squeeze, twist* ☆

Yuzuru: Fufu, you’re very skilled. But I don’t like dogs… I would be very happy if I can practise using another animal.

Hinata: Hmm~ Then I’ll show you how to twist the balloon!

Hinata: Just copy what I do~ *Squeeze, twist* ☆ And look, you’ve got yourself a heart ♪

Yuzuru: You can make a heart by folding the balloon, I see. I didn’t know that.

Hmm. How is this, Hinata-sama? I think it’s a rather pretty-looking heart.

Hinata: Let’s see~ Yup, looks good for a beginner! Once you’ve made a few more, you can move on to real balloon art.

You can make a bear, a rabbit, a penguin and then you’ll have made an entire balloon animal zoo ☆

If the kids are happy, it makes me happy too. It’s like hitting two birds with one stone~ Ahahahaha ☆

[ Location: 1-B Classroom ]

Touri: …………

Yuuta: That stupid Aniki! He did something without telling me again~!

If he’s just gonna apologise when the cat’s out of the bag, then he should’ve just told me from the start. I won’t forgive you next time~!

Touri: *Sigh…* You sure are energetic this morning, Yuuta. You guys are twins so you should just get along with each other.

Just when I thought you guys were always connected at the hip or something, you start avoiding each other like you’ve never seen the other person in your life. You guys are way too unstable.

Yuuta: Uuu~... I know I’m being grumpy. Our work this time was something you came to us for and it’s not something Aniki went to get himself.

I’d be lying if I was thinking it might be a chance for me to fly out on my own instead of relying on Aniki.

But even so, I want to have a good time and work together with Aniki for “Toyland”.

I heard from Anzu-san that she’s making teddy bear goods for the event.

So we made a promise that we’ll tell her our opinions about them once we’ve talked about it together.

But Aniki just went to Anzu-san directly and told her what he thought!

And it looks like she incorporated those changes before I realised it, so there’s no way my opinion would even matter now…

In the end, Aniki just decides on everything by himself. I’m just Aniki’s accessory – it doesn’t matter if I’m there or not.

The world only revolves around him. What I do has no effect on tomorrow, the day after that… or even the future.

What’s the point of having me in the same unit then…?

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#toyland

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