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cherryxblossxms · 5 days

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🔞 i guess it's because there's an event happening and that's why he's on my mind, but i've been thinking about sexual tension and some angst with Lucifer

[NSFW, minors DNI. GN reader, unrequited feelings(?), casual sex, getting caught. Maybe alluding to some angry/jealous sex, possible dubcon at the end?? This is....wayyyy longer than intended/accidental ficlet]

Like just imagining really coming to be attracted to him. Emotionally attracted because he's responsible and serious and intelligent, and then has his sweet and romantic moments that seem like they're only for you. And physically, he has every reason to be the Avatar of Pride. He's probably one of, if not the most, gorgeous men you've ever laid eyes on. Those intense ruby red eyes, broad shoulders, skilled hands that produced both gorgeous handwriting as well as wonderful piano music.

It comes to the point that you can't make eye contact with him or you know you'll get flustered. Starting to get distracted by thinking about what he'd be like as a lover, as a boyfriend. Slight touches are enough to send your daydreams on a journey. But knowing he likely doesn't like you that way, that the feelings aren't returned. And anyway, the plan is to eventually return to the human world, right? Is it worth getting into a relationship now, just to separate so soon down the road? But rather than deal with the rejection and heartache, just swallowing those feelings down and trying to move on with your life.

Of course, amidst the inner turmoil going on in your heart, you didn't expect to get involved with Lord Diavolo instead, the prince approaching you with the most unexpected offer that you decided to accept, perhaps against your better judgment.

It wasn't anything serious, definitely just a fling, simply responding to mutual attraction and a mutual desire for some stress relief. Honestly, it happened rather suddenly, a curious kiss after a meeting quickly evolving into more, but once it started, it was easy to just go with the flow, taking your moments alone to indulge and just release that tension. You reasoned it was both a good way to forget your feelings and still enjoy some kind of attention, and thankfully he was an excellent lover.

However, you had to admit to yourself that, as gorgeous and skilled as the devil prince was, you'd be lying if your mind didn't seem to wander off more often than not to a certain red-eyed devil. Even as Diavolo worked to rearrange your guts over his office desk, risking any documents he decidedly abandoned in pursuit of... greater pleasures, even as his golden eyes burned into you and he devoted himself to learning your favorite spots, your mind still went back to Lucifer.

If Diavolo knew that your heart was elsewhere, he didn't mention it. You were an adult and you weren't dating each other, he had no right to question it regardless. And as the heir to the throne, he had other things to focus on anyway. The whole point of the fling was something simple, pleasurable, and the less you two thought about feelings and regrets, the better.

Of course, assumptions can often be your undoing.

During one such beneficial "meeting" between you and the prince, your hands were grasping— broad shoulders, the desk, his hair, whatever was closest— as you tried to hold on for dear life. Something had seemed to really get under his skin lately, so he was working on releasing all his stress into you instead, his desk at risk of breaking, based on the amount of creaking that could be heard. His large cock bullying its way into your body repeatedly and pressing up against a particularly sensitive spot inside was driving you close to climax, and the overwhelming pleasure was driving any coherent thoughts from your mind.

The volume of the room was loud and only getting louder by the second, a sinful symphony of pants and grunts, rhythmic wood creaking, and the wet slap of Diavolo's balls against your ass. Thus, it was no wonder neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, or at least, couldn't be bothered to pay it any mind. Diavolo adjusted his grip on your hips at the last second, really driving his cock home inside you, and you could feel the band about to snap.

Just before you could go over that delicious precipice, the door to Diavolo's office opened, and your head whipped around to see the intruder. Of all the people it could have been, you should have known there was equal chances of being walked in by Lucifer as there was Barbatos. And yet, seeing him there still froze you to the spot as his eyes met yours.

Or rather, it would have. But Diavolo made one more thrust, the thick head of his dick pressing the sweetest little spot inside, and it was enough for the band to finally snap. In what felt like ages but was all within the span of a second, everything came crashing down. Your body tightened before releasing all at once, spasming in Diavolo's hold as you couldn't help but release a cry. The feel of your hole tightening around him dragged him into climax with you, and he seated himself deep inside before filling you with his cum.

What would have been an otherwise heavenly, earth-shattering orgasm was short-lived, as the horror of what happened quickly dissolved any remaining pleasure. You pushed against Diavolo's chest, trying to get him to move, to at least pull out of you, so you could pull yourself together and try to explain-- explain what, exactly? You weren't even sure, and it wasn't like Lucifer didn't just see you cum on his boss' dick just a minute ago, and in fact were still stuffed with it atop his desk.

You couldn't read the expression on his face, and didn't get much chance to explain anything before Lucifer apologized for interrupting and left.

It's days before you can speak to Lucifer again, practically cornering him in his office despite how hard your heart is pounding and how much you want to run away. You're expecting many different reactions: disappointment, shaming, anger, perhaps even indifference. But when Lucifer finally snaps, what initially seems like anger seems to morph into what is instead... jealousy? Questioning you on when your relationship with Diavolo started, how long you two have been fucking, if there's anyone else you're riding like a whore besides the prince.

You can't help the way your face burns when he spits out that word, "whore", but there's no time to attempt a defense before Lucifer is pushing you over his desk, a hand grasping your hip so hard you might bruise, the other yanking your hair to look back at him. The look in his eyes then blows you away, equal parts desire and anger swirling in those bloody depths. You'd ask him what he's going to do, but the solid length pressing against your backside is answer enough. Despite the shame hanging over you, you can't help the part of you that's thrilled that he wants you like that, even if it was happening for all the wrong reasons. But as the sound of a belt unbuckling caught your ears, you accepted your punishment and just hoped there'd be time later to truly confront each other.

#lucifer x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me smut #obey me angst #lucifer thirsts #obey me diavolo #obey me shall we date #spicy minx 🔥

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stormoflina · 3 months

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you wont answer me cuz you know im right. i loved szobo in the early days but his drop off was huge and now he is just another hospital merchant. for all the hype of him being the next kdb he cant even score a solo goal and im yet to see a good pass from him in the final third

Well hello anon.

I didn't answer you, because

1. The last couple of days my head was moving in between the Moon and Mars, and I'm not sure if I would have been able to remain respectful.

2. I'm getting tired of all these anons coming to my infobox and, for the lack of a better expression, trying to take the piss out of me. If you read my posts you know that he's one of my favourite players, and that I'm not mindless hater about any of our players, but especially not towards him.

3. You were being very condescending and annoying.

But buckle up my dear salty anon.

Dominik, naturally, is an offensive minded midfielder. At Leipzig, he basically played as a wide 10 (or occasional RW) and for the most part he does the same for Hungary. In both teams he was a pressing monster, his pressing is arguably one of the best in the current Liverpool squad as well. The difference is, that in both teams he had other midfielders behind him. He still had defensive duties, but not this current caliber. In Hungary he plays one of the hardest and most taxing roles: he drops deep to collect the ball, helps the build up from deep, and he contributes a LOT in defense, but he also has freedom to roam around the pitch, and enjoys the other midfielders support when he appears in the final third.

In Liverpool, he is a box-to-box midfielder. A different role, and not just a different role in midfield, but he is a midfielder under Klopp, played in the RHS in a triangle with Salah and Trent. Salah is our main goalscorer, Trent is our main creator. His job is to provide a stable link up between the two, allowing them to express themselves freely, offer his support, keep the width when needed, etc etc. Without him doing this, that rhs can't function properly. And this is just one of his many responsibilities. When Trent inverts into midfield he drops back into either help out (Ibou), or takes up completely the RB position. A position he has never played, by the way. He's constantly pressing, constantly running, constantly covering/contributing in defensive duties. He is the 5th fastest player this season. Other than his pressing, his other great quality is his off-ball work. Again, arguably, his awareness and intelligence when it comes to that is one of the best in the current squad. I encourage you to watch back some of our recent matches and take notice of him instead of the one giving the assist/scoring, many cases, without his efforts it wouldn't get to the point of it being a goal scoring opportunity.

I'm not going to argue with you and say that his passing hasn't looked a bit off in certain matches, that he didn't have some bad first touches or unnecessary long shots. He did. But please also think about all these NEW and constant duties, (other than the pressing& off-ball work), doesn't come natural to him at all and how these can affect his performance in the final third. Yes, it's an excuse,but a reasonable one in my opinion, maybe not for you, whatever.

All in all, it's easy to fail when you have been shifted from a role of being supported to being the one who is the constant and many times only support. Mind it, this is happening in a much more physical, much more demanding and stronger league. It's no wonder fatigue and eventually injury caught up to him. Other than Endo (and he only had like 5-6 starters in the PL), all of our starting midfielders struggled with injuries throughout the season, Domi was the last one to go down.

Anyways, this is the last time I did this. I'm so sick and tired, especially now with all the hate towards him, having the same conversation again and again. You think he's a bad, selfish person with a big ego, who insults and makes fun of his teammates etc etc. I'm not here to change your mind. But maybe try at least watching football with your eyes open before you start accusing one of the team's most selfless and most hard-working players, who is literally out injured (and likely very upset and heartbroken about that) because he tried to give his everything for his club, manager, teammates and fans.

#dominik szoboszlai #lfc #liverpool fc #im so over this i might pin this ask on my tumblr

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leggerefiore · 1 year

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Aliens Submas. Human AFAB Reader. After the First Contact with the twins but that went badly and only the Reader survived of the crew. The Three stuck in the human space station but only because Nobori and Kudari want to make it the nest for their mate. The Twins find out about Valentine's Day and decide to celebrate it with Reader, but they don't fully understand it and it ends up as usual with those two, i.e. fucking, it doesn't matter if Reader is willing or not

Invasion

cw: 18+ content but not explicit, yandere, noncon, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), alien au, death of other characters implied,

Minors DNI

sorry for lack of anything too explicit my brain just wouldn't let me write any :(

At first, your crew was confused as to how these aliens made it into your space station without being noticed by the security system.

They took on a humanoid form, but strange anomalies with tentacles sprouting out from their back alongside glowing gems in their chests made it obvious they were far from a species like your own. Your captain barked out an order to contain them. You stood back in terror, only a survey researched that was on board to investigate the far-off planets the crew was sent to explore. They were fast creatures, moving before you could even think to react.

Screams and shouts echoed throughout the room as you felt a ball of cowardice overtake you. Heavy breaths came from you as your feet pounded against the metal flooring. You dashed further and further away from the atrium, seeking out the communications room to radio out for help. This obviously was not going to end well. Hostile aliens had always been considered, but none were supposed to make their way on to the station.

Tears burned your eyes as you considered how you had just beaten off an odd cold just a few days prior. Your health had slumped after a trip to a passing comet. The medic of your crew had declared you to have simply overexerted yourself. Hiccuping, you realised you had gone the wrong way in the sprawling corridors of the station. Your quarters were nearby, however.

Quietly, you sneaked into your room and set the door to lock behind you. Crawling into the corner of the room, you gazed out the small window into the vast expanse of space outside. This place was nothing like the scenery provided by earth. Had you made the wiser choice to stay home, you would have avoided this entire situation, but you stupidly craved adventure and believed the lies of being something akin to a pioneer. Those were dumb dreams.

You tried desperately to send out a distress signal with a local communicator, but just as you pressed the button… The station's power cut out. You froze as you set in the dim room with only emergency low-power lights providing any illumination. Those aliens must have been highly intelligent. You crawled under your bed as you hoped for someone to notice the change and send for help. Your communicator's signal was cut with the loss of power.

In a desperate attempt to calm yourself, you recalled the light-hearted conversation you had with a fellow survey member. She had been giggling about a security team member asking her to spend an evening together for Valentine's Day. That seemed so long ago, despite it likely not even having been six hours away from your current time.

A loud clunking sound as heard. You froze. Another soon followed. And another… Until, your door was pried open. Glowing silvery eyes peered inside as the gem embedded in the chest of the creature worked something like an impromptu flashlight. He scanned the room carefully before stepping in with ease. You held your breath and stayed deathly still, hoping he would pass you by. Your eyes were squeezed shut, calling back to youth when 'if I can't see you, you can't see me' still applied.

Everything was still. Everything was quiet.

You opened your eyes.

The alien's gaze peered icily at you. You would have jumped had it not been for the cramped space you had hidden yourself in. His cold hand reached out to grab you, resulting in your backing away further against the wall. A sigh came from him. The mood felt wrong.

“… We will not hurt you,” his voice was gentle and eerily familiar, like something that you had once heard in a dream. Steps echoed in after him. You felt ill as he pulled you out from under the bed. The aliens gazed at you with identical expressions. Truly, they must have been a race of drones, with just how similar the two looked. One of them held a smile, while the other wore a frown. You shuddered.

What were they going to do with you, then? Were your crewmates okay? Many questions raced through your head, but none resulted in answers. The smiling one suddenly restrained your wrists and ankles with his tentacles and stepped toward you. The frowning one shook his head. “I am Emmet,” he cooed at you, “We love you.” You felt awestruck by his words.

“… That's impossible,” you retaliated, “I couldn't love creatures like you anyway.” An expression of hurt crossed Emmet's face as he turned to his counterpart.

“Those are cruel words, dearest,” the frowning one crooned, “You carried our weakened forms to health in your body, after all.” All the blood drained from your body as you felt ice-cold. The heating system was down, too.

“Mmm… Ingo,” Emmet turned to his brother, “I still don't think this place is a desirable nest. Not at all.” Ingo nodded at his twin's words. You felt completely numb. Nest? Were they planning on turning this place into a breeding ground? How did they reproduce? “Naughty thoughts,” he giggled at you and pressed you against the bed, “Brother, I verrrrry much want to convert this place into a proper nest, buuuut my brain wants to go on with the 'Valentine's Day activities'.” Everything felt more and more confusing.

“Are you telepathic?” you tried to get an answer. Emmet shook his head with a playful grin.

“I am in your brain,” he whispered into your ear, “I learnt this language from you and made sure to take on a form you found appealing.” You shivered when his lips pressed to your ear before moving to your jaw. His brother stood stiffly, watching you both with mild annoyance.

“... I will check that all other life forms have been truly eliminated,” Ingo spoke with a cool, authoritative tone, “After confirming, I will return power. I worry this temperature will be inhabitable by our mate.” Emmet pulled away from the skin of your neck he was sucking at to nod at his brother. The twin stepped away and left you alone in the dim room with the smiling alien on top of you. He licked his lips.

“We discovered how to make imitations of human male gametes with our genetic code,” Emmet cooed, “Valentine's Day is about breeding, yes?” You felt horrified as he moved to unzip your bodysuit. “We are so verrrrry lucky you took us from that comet,” he began to press kisses across your exposed chest and down to your navel, “We will give you everything.” You wanted to cry, scream, anything, but instead you pondered something.

“... Why not just take me?” you asked.

“We wanted you to have a nest you would enjoy,” he replied as he slid off the bottom half of your suit, “You love this place. And our home planet would not accept you.” You shivered his another one of his tentacles freed itself to rub between your legs pleasurably. You moaned loudly. Another giggle came from him. “I know you are into aliens, too.”

You wished you had not read and watched some much xenophilic content in the past. It was impossible to deny that you would have been interested in them had they not attacked your crew as they had. You could only swallow.

“Happy Valentine's Day!”

A moan left you as the tentacle entered you.

You watched as another rescue ship met a quick end at the hand of your station. It had changed quite a bit since you first arrived here. The only human on board was you, but there were many, many aliens. Emmet hummed in annoyance as they called for backup. Ingo took to trying to comfort your upset son. They had begun remodelling the ship to better fit your tastes. It resembled a human home more than a research station now.

You leaned back down, going back to your card game with your daughter. These changes had long since been accepted by you. Everything that happened was your fault, after all. If you had not brought these alien invaders into the station, none of this would have happened. Sighing, you caught Emmet's gaze on you again.

It was impossible to leave, your many failed attempts only showed they were truly a part of you. Everything was easier now than it had ever been before. Your daughter, however, turned to Emmet with big pleading eyes.

“When do I get a mate?”

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #yandere x reader #yandere pokemon x reader #ingo x reader x emmet #ingo/reader #emmet/reader #ingo/reader/emmet #yandere #smut #nastystuff #yanstuff

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marciabrady · 10 months

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Why do you say that Lily James and Kenneth Branagh completely misrepresented 2015's Cinderella and ruined the character? (I apologize if you've already spoken about this in depth, but I'm relatively new to your blog and could only find this subject mentioned in passing a couple of times). Thank you 💙

Hi there! Thank you for the question and no worries at all- just for reference, I have talked about it here and here before, but it has been a while and- as you said, you are new- so I can definitely list some reasons again!

So, to start off with, I think the crux of this issue is two-fold: fire and foremost, Lily and Kenneth both don't like the original animated Cinderella property and set about to "fix" it as opposed to faithfully interpret it, so the foundation that the house of "Cinderella 2015" was built upon is already shaky. And before anyone tries to "educate" me, I'm aware Kenneth has spoken favorably about the fairytale of Cinderella but he's intensely disparaged the original film, as has L*ly James, Cate Blanchet*e and Richard Mad*en at length. Secondly, I think instead of going about in trying to bring Cinderella to life, Kenneth and Lily went about in trying to portray the ideal woman to our 2015 sensibilities and, in doing so, obliterated anything that made Cinderella unique and herself.

On this last point, Lily has said over and over again that her Cinderella won't be so reliant on her Prince and won't be so passive and waiting around and has even gone so far to say that she tried to infuse as much of Belle and Jasmine into her Cinderella as she could...which, why? Belle and Jasmine are Belle and Jasmine- they don't have to be Cinderella. We can acknowledge that there are different types of women and that's okay. We don't have to dilute how women are and make them lose their individuality just to appeal to more people because there's more than one way to be a woman. But every trait they fill their Cinderella with is just what was favored at the time and it never really amounted to anything or was unique to her. We see Lily James' Cinderella with a book to show us that she's intelligent, like Belle, but it's really just for optics and that book/reading never becomes relevant later on, nor is it unique to her since every heroine after Belle has been seen with a book due to have popular it was with Belle. We see her horseback riding her frustrations away so that we could have a "powerful" shot of her, but she doesn't use her horseback riding to any purpose in the plot. She asks the Fairy Godmother to keep a semblance of her old dress so she can feel like she's taking her mother to the ball with her, but when the FGM changes it, she isn't upset at all. We see her have resources through which to leave her home, but then tell her friend she isn't so she can fulfill a promise to her Father in never leaving the home...which she ends up leaving later on. We see her "talk back" to her stepmother and stepsisters in that scene where she speaks French to them (even though this movie was set in France) but, again, that doesn't really mean anything because, if she's meant to be putting them down, they don't understand what she's saying and neither do we? Even the way she yells at the Prince "just because it's done doesn't mean it's what should be done!" just feels so...eh

That's the other thing...the entire production/cast is so hypocritical? They went on an entire press tour bashing the original Cinderella- that made their production possible btw- calling her a doormat and passive and submissive...but then in turn gave us a heroine that was infinitively more of a doormat, passive, and submissive? They tell us that the original Cinderella was reliant on a Prince, when she didn't even go to the ball for the Prince (unlike her Stepsisters) and didn't even discover the man she was dancing with was the Prince until the next morning. Meanwhile, Lily's Cinderella meets the Prince in the woods before the ball and only goes to the ball for him since she's met him prior? That is a HUGE step back by the rubric they were judging the original Cinderella by. And passive? Where the original Cinderella had snark to her and was banging against the attic door to be let out, hollering and screaming, and where she tried everything she could to get out- it was ultimately her idea and quick thinking in getting Bruno to chase off Lucifer that led to her descending upon the stairs toward freedom- Lily James' Cinderella twirls and sings passively in her room like someone who's lost it while the Duke is downstairs. She's literally discovered because a mouse accidentally opens up a window and they hear her singing...like I'm sorry but this is ridiculous to me! And here's the thing- I see people defend this version and say it's okay she's passive or whatever. And it's fine, she can be whatever she wants to be, but my point is they validated criticism that had no merit and signed off on it of the film that their movie was based off of, claiming theirs would be something different, when they ended up giving us a product that was closer to what was criticized in the original!

The cast was also very selective with what they were progressive on. Again, they were happy to throw the animated Cinderella under the bus all day, but this production pushed an unfair dichotomy of beauty. No woman in this production was allowed to be "conventionally unattractive"- every female character was made thinner, with more makeup, and youthful in appearance than their animated counterpart (Lady Tremaine with her fire red hair and bright matte lipstick, Anastasia and Drizella, the bedazzled Fairy Godmother). Again, is it bad that they're conventionally attractive? No, but you can tell the film's direction is intended to turn the original on its head by saying "see, we're not implying ugliness is bad because everyone is beautiful but of a different character" but in doing so they're showing us thin, white women with euro-centric features and they're telling us that is beautiful, with no other look to showcase and...oof. And don't even get me started on the controversy around the waistline...and this is where their selective activism comes into play again. Where they were happy to badmouth the original Cinderella, who was a victim of abuse, and inflict an victim-blaming narrative upon her, they scoffed and said it was anti-feminist to talk about Lily's body and that she was naturally a skinny girl. And she is naturally skinny- but not that naturally skinny and those weren't her proportions. She admitted to being on a liquid diet to fit into that dress and said she couldn't go a few minutes without belching into Richard's face when they were filming from how tightly she was laced into it (how charming). But God forbid anyone talks badly or questions their production! They can use Cinderella 1950's platform to badmouth her and benefit from her success while not doing anything unique, but if anyone earnestly questions anything about their film, they're pulling a reverse uno and calling you misogynistic! Which leads me into the whole values thing. Again, the live action version is becoming favored and many people think Lily's has more depth than the original (even though Ilene's Cinderella was so realistic and nuanced and strong and it makes me so sad) that they've even started to incorporate the designs from the live action into animated Cinderella's world in books:

And have even used live action Cinderella's slogan on animated merch:

Which...I hate this saying lol I don't think it makes any sense or matches the animated Cinderella at all. Animated Cinderella was kind and got along with everyone when she needed to, for survival, and she definitely avoided conflict where she could but she wasn't blindly nice to everyone all the time. She stuck up for herself when she needed to and that didn't always win her friends and she wasn't always agreeable. This message of "be kind" all the time to people who consistently do you wrong is so backwards and makes no sense and honestly is kind of problematic in how we see it leads to Lily enabling the behavior that's shown toward her (how she pretty much offers to sleep in the attic, namely, and even when she thinks the stepfamily is going to give her a dress for the ball...it just made her look dense in a way the animated Cinderella wasn't?) but also just...a deep dive into "have courage and be kind" makes me frustrated because, what they're doing is "rescuing" the perceived weakness/traditional femininity of "kindness" by marrying it to the traditionally masculine "courage." In other words, kindness would have no value if courage wasn't in front of it. Which, in a nutshell, is Lily's Cinderella. Instead of showing us who she is in action, the way the animated Cinderella does, she preaches even when it makes no sense to? (Which I hate being told what a character is- show me!) Animated Cinderella knew when to keep a trick up her sleeve. She didn't reveal the glass slipper until the last minute because she didn't trust her family and she knew there was no point in doing so, as they would never see eye to eye with her. Lily's Cinderella blatantly tells the Stepmother to her face that she doesn't plan on going along with her plan which...eh. And even the whole "love is free, kindness is free" is the perfect example of how sanctimonious she gets for no reason instead of showing us those attributes in action. And, again, it'd be one thing if Lily's Cinderella existed in a vacuum on its own, but this is coming out after all of the "Cinderella ate my Daughter" books where public perception of Cinderella was really bad! And instead of protecting Cinderella, the cast aligned themselves with the Cinderella detractors and then gave us a product that was more indictive of what was being criticized as opposed to what the original Cinderella truly was, and now everyone's favorite Cinderella (2015) is closer to a version of Cinderella that never existed but everyone believes it did...I really could go on forever, but this is my least favorite movie ever lol

#ask #anonymous

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fouralignments · 2 years

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This was supposed to be an author's note for Chapter 5: I’ve Opened by Mind, Yet I am Blind for Blessed by Khonshu, My Son Comes Back to Me to explain my reasoning behind Sabah Nur's why he acts the way that he does.

I have a pet peeve in writing is the idiot plot.

Don't get me wrong there is a time and place for it. I love me some Bride Wars or your Flash Gordon's Emperor Ming who revival in the camp and who doesn't skim through the Evil overlord list. But you knows its comedy and we can laugh at the absurdity and the larger than life antics and emotions. Or even your Dr. Doofenshmirtz, his entire schtick is this. But I don't mind it! I enjoy Back to the Future II because you know the story and characters are great and I can overlook it.

Sometimes characters do not have all the information or their egos into the way or they do not listen and they make the wrong decisions or a stupid decision; which for me is perfectly alright.

My beef with the idiot plot is when there are instances of the idiocy of the characters drives the plot forward in order to work. Theses are your Prometheus. I enjoy this despite its flaws and also Michael Fassbender performance saved this movie; the forced conflict of a character withholding information and not just sitting down and talking about in romantic movies that could have been so easily solved in the first act.

Its the writing equivalent of twisting your characters into pretzel in order, and deliberately writing them out of character for convivence and not really putting in the effort and thinking through would X character response to this situation and/or crisis. For me this bad writing.

Now, its one thing for your Emperor Ming or Dr. Doofenshmirtz to be idiotic in their villainy. But, we're talking about one of the X-Men's biggest big bad: Apocalypse. He's one of the most powerful villains that they ever faced during their runs.

There is a saying: That your hero is only as good as your villain.

The writers XM:A kneecapped Apocalypse for our heroes in order for them to win. It takes away from Sabah Nur menace. Apocalypse holds that villain ball hard with Charles delivering his speech to the world and giving Jean his location to save him. It sabotages the characters, so it requires less of them in order to defeat Apocalypse or the situation that they are in. Things happen to the characters like Wolverine making mincemeat at Akali lake that require very little of our characters to escape.

So the defeat feels less earned; its cheating in order for the writer to get the results that they wants. Its like technobabble, it isn't your characters thinking their way out of problem, its magic and no more explanation is needed. If your characters are pressed against wall and they can either fight, think or talk to get themselves out.

I get the feeling this why the Jean unleashing the phoenix felt so underwhelming because It isn't our heroes exhausting all possibilities of defeating Apocalypse, where he outsmarted them, out fought them and won at every front and the X-Men can just barely defeat him with all their powers combined, but it isn't enough. Therefore, they do need the Deus ex Machina of the Phoenix in order to defeat him.

The other X-Men movies didn't require the villains: Trask, Stryker (both young and old), Shaw, Senator Kelly or Magneto to be stupid in order for the heroes to defeat them; quite the opposite, their intelligence made more scary and adding to the challenge for our heroes to overcome.

The sentinel are the X-Men cinematic universe equivalent of the fucking Borg; if you had an ad agency advertising futility the DOFP future! sentinels would be it.

XM:A needed to go through several more drafts because this is just sloppy writing and nowhere the caliber of DOFP and FC.

Also you have Oscar God-damn Isaac How could not make this work???

There are parts of this movie that work really damn well for En Sabah Nur because he can be damn scary if the writers allow him to be.

#X-Men Apocalypse

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rcksmith · 3 years

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Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

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thunderheadfred · 3 years

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💥Bakugou HC's💥

Aged-up pro hero Katsuki for all of these. Some NSFW beneath the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

He’s scary good at everything he tries. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. It’s infuriating. Has zero patience when other people can’t immediately master a skill. Never let him teach you anything. Not that he’d offer, nerd.

He WILL offer, though. A lot. He can’t believe you still can’t Do That Thing. Tsh. Like THIS. You're gonna hurt yourself, Dummy.

But hold on. Of course you have unique skills of your own. You work hard to improve yourself. Trust me, he's the first person to notice. He doesn't praise anyone lightly, so when he raises his eyebrows and whispers he's impressed, your heart will go thermonuclear.

Perfect spelling and fully punctuated texts. Never uses abbreviations. Employs a grand total of four emojis, all of them angry faces. Constantly leaves you on read. He's busy, dammit.

Doesn’t smile or laugh in public (except sarcastically). His real smile is a crooked, fragile thing. Never make him feel self-conscious about it, or you might not see it again for weeks.

He does not talk about his private life to the press. Ever. Will K.O. rookie reporters who can't keep their big mouths shut.

HOweVER: he's intensely kind to his fans. There is a whole photographic sub-genre of little girls in cosplay hugging Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight like he's a Disney Princess.

Too smart for his own good. Emotionally hyper-vigilant. Overthinks every interaction to hell and back. Will act like he's not listening but actually hears every single word in a ten-block radius.

INSECURE AF. 110% convinced he will never be good enough. Terrified of his loved ones leaving him behind. Does he do anything to assuage his fears? Like... talk to anyone about it? Hell no. That would require admitting he has fears to begin with.

Seeing people upset makes him upset, especially if he doesn't know how to fix it.

The epitome of being mean because he cares. He genuinely does not seem to comprehend that monosyllabic grunts and lopsided shrugs are not actually that comforting.

Because he was such a brat growing up, he wants to make up for it now. Sort of. In his own way. Look, he's trying, okay?

He smells - so - good. Obscenely good. He doesn't wear cologne; are you joking? There's the burnt-sugar caramel candy smell of his quirk, for starters. And since he sweats deadly ammunition, he showers and wipes himself down almost constantly. He always smells clean. Like a fucking meadow.

Never got that growth spurt he was hoping for. He’s a short man - not even THAT short - but he has a Napoleon complex anyway. If you’re taller than him, the collars of your shirts will all be stretched out. He’s constantly dragging you down to his level. He will assert himself all the fucking time; the pissing contest is never-ending. Don’t wear tall shoes unless you want him to drag you around on a leash. If you’re shorter than him, that’s good. That’s very good. He likes that.

He’s an incredible cook, but everything he makes is a nuclear fire challenge. Adapt or starve.

- - - - -

Dating

Makes artisanal, nutritionally flawless bento lunches for both of you. When people assume his S.O. makes them, he gets fucking pissed. Damn right your co-workers are jealous of my cooking.

Your pet name is Dummy. Don’t like it? Fine. You can be dumbass.

There will be zero PDA in this relationship. His hands are shoved so deep in his pockets you can’t even try.

Intensely private with the press. But with his friends, he will brag about you nonstop. Bakugou Katsuki has the most talented and attractive and intelligent S.O., and anyone who doesn't recognize that is blind. Were you assholes even listening?

A mutual buddy definitely recorded one of these drunken brag-rants and sent it to you for safekeeping. Do not let Katsuki find out about it, unless you enjoy having an ash pile for a phone.

Gets jealous about everything, at least at the start. He calms down eventually. Kinda. He stops saying shit to you about it, anyway, because he learns to trust you. But anyone who so much as looks at you in a too-friendly manner will get the death stare of a lifetime.

He’ll throw all kinds of temper tantrums and the two of you will argue about every tiny fucking thing. He’ll scream out car windows, he’ll ball up his shirt and gnash on it. But he will never raise his voice at you. He’d rather die than make you feel unsafe.

Honestly, the constant bickering is really just... uhh... passionate communication. Eventually you both hash out the important things. You'll learn how to step around his landmines and actually make your points, and he'll learn to open up. A little.

Once you meet his mom, Katsuki starts to make a lot more sense. His family just... emotes like that. Eventually, you and his dad form a spousal support group consisting of exactly two lifetime members. He teaches you the Bakugou family semaphore you need to survive a long-term relationship.

Katsuki can dish it out but absolutely cannot take it. The only person who can level with him about serious issues without explosive fallout is his dad. Or, on a lucky day, Kirishima.

If you give him a legitimate criticism (even gently!) he will take it about as gracefully as a knife to the gut, because it confirms everything he hates about himself.

To your never-ending shock, you’ve made him cry. Yes, CRY! You monster! More than once! His lip gets all *trembly* and his eyes get all *watery* and all you want to do is hug him, but. No. He’ll storm out and wander around for a few hours before coming back with the problem perfectly solved.

He always takes your advice to heart. No, he will NOT talk about it, stop asking.

Gets mad if you don’t snuggle him on the regular. Will drag you into his lap with a pissy little grunt. There might be two seats on this couch but you will not be needing both of them.

Takes pictures of you while you sleep.

Takes even more pictures of you when you're awake but think he's out of the room.

He looks at all these pictures when he's away on high-stakes jobs. He gets all bleary eyed and sleeps in a salty puddle without you. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.

You don’t have to meet him at the door or anything, but when he says “I’m home,” you’d better answer fast. If he doesn’t know your precise location in 0.05 seconds, he will assume you’ve been kidnapped. He never checks the fridge for notes. Never assumes you've gone down to the konbini for a snack. No, it��s kidnapping every time.

A terrrrrrible bed partner. He goes to bed at senior citizen hours and will never fuck you after sundown. He snores SO loud. Runs hot and sweats through the sheets. Slaps and elbows you in his sleep and aggressively spoons you with his loud, sweaty body. You WILL want to suffocate him. Separate bedrooms aren’t such a horrible idea......

BUT HANG ON, because in the morning he transforms into an honest-to-god angel. He's half awake, his guard is non-existent. Morning Katsuki is a doting kissy-faced marshmallow man.

If you can wake up before the ass-crack of dawn, he will pamper the fuck out of you. You are royalty for one (1) hour only, and he is your bleary-eyed slave. You want a cuddlefuck? You got it. Hugs? Kisses? Take as many as you need. You want a perfect, fluffy, NON-SPICY omelette with a heart drawn in ketchup? Here it is, gorgeous.

Then he gets in the shower and the spell is broken.

- - - - -

💥bang BANG💥

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: this here is an ASS. MAN. He'll spank you with his quirk; doesn’t matter if you’ve been good or bad. Wants to see you wince when you sit down later.

Likes pounding you face down with a vice grip on your waist.

Unfortunately, even with all that said... he doesn't exactly have the feral beast sex drive you were expecting. He’s married to his work and has the fuddy-duddy habits of a once and future valedictorian. Only fucks you when he has the time and energy to fully dedicate himself to it.

But ohhhh. Shit. When it's time? It's TIME. The man will rush for nothing. Stamina for days. Making you cum as many times as possible is a point of pride. Yeah, you passed out once.

You’re gonna need those days off when he’s done with you.

That dick THICC.

Sends unsolicited dick pics. Only after you’ve been dating a good long while - he doesn't show that shit to just anyone. But yeah, don’t check your phone at work. He won't cum without you; those pictures and videos are time bombs. You better get home. Now.

Physically dominant as FUCK, but won’t verbally degrade you unless you ask. Well, let’s be honest. Unless you beg.

Praise him and reap the rewards. A long hard ego stroking will get him off more than touching his cock ever will.

Will grab your hair and fuck your throat. Will also stop immediately if you need him to.

The two of you have safe words and gestures. Even for vanilla stuff. He’s paranoid about scaring or hurting you. He insisted you both sign a color-coded ‘love contract’ that he meticulously formatted in a word processor. When you gave him guff about it, his blush was the darkest crimson you’d ever seen.

Coin-flip: he will sometimes be unbelievably gentle in bed. Doting and affectionate, taking perfect care of you. Like, it’s baffling. There’s no warning, the switch just flips. When you want him to be extra-rough and mean, he’ll sweetly worship you instead. For hours.

Bonus: he likes being penetrated. But of course he’s got a complex about that too. Super intense power bottom. You will never fuck him hard enough. He’d like to see you try. Hit his prostate just right and he might literally explode.

You'll live happily ever after but he will say he loves you out loud exactly once. Maybe. If you're lucky. And you're both about to die.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #gender neutral #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fred writes

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Yes, Daddy

summary: it's stepdaddy!zeke, there's no need for a summary xD pairing: stepfather!zeke x stepdaughter!reader warnings & content: stepcest, unprotected sex, fingering, spitting, lots of daddy mentions, oral sex (male receiving) word count: 1.5k

a/n: danger! this is very self-indulgent, i'm so sorry

You couldn't understand why your mother wanted to get married after your father left. The two of you were perfectly fine just by yourselves. She kept yapping about how a man could offer you stability and security, but you knew better — you knew your mom just wanted to get laid, and since she was almost 50, no one sane man of her age would marry her. She looked good for her age, so it was no surprise when she finally brought home her boyfriend. What was surprising was that Zeke was twenty years younger than your mother. Hell, you were closer to his age than her — he was only nine years older than you. But you could completely understand why she fell in love with him. The man was handsome, extremely intelligent, charming and, most importantly, rich. And for some stupid reason, Zeke was dating your mother, a reason you didn't figure out yet.

Then the wedding happened, and your mother was the happiest she'd ever been. You helped pick her dress, organised the whole damn thing to the smallest detail, even tasted the cake. You were going to move out eventually, and decided your mother would feel better if she had someone around her, so you tried to be nice to your new father. Besides, after Zeke moved in with you, you found out he was a pretty cool guy. So cool, that you began to fantasise about him, touching yourself when you heard him fuck your mom through the thin walls that separated your rooms.

You can't sleep. You toss and turn in your bed, you're either too hot, too cold, too tired or too full of energy.

"Fuck." You breathe out, pushing the blanket off of you. Perhaps a glass of milk will help, and so you go downstairs, dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of knee socks. You don't expect Zeke to still be awake after the way he the bed screeched an hour ago, yet there he is, watching some documentary about monkeys.

"Can't sleep either?" You walk into the living room and he glances at you, not so subtly admiring your thighs. Maybe you should've put on some panties.

"No. I can't get used to the mattress."

"Huh." You shrug, making your way to the kitchen. "Want some milk?"

"Yes, please." Zeke nods, not taking his eyes off of you. You don't turn the lights on, you know your house like the palm of your hand, and open the fridge, bending down for the jug. The shirt isn't long enough to cover your body once you've bent, and you know that. You count on that.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all."

You hand him the glass of milk before plopping on the couch, thighs exposed to the viewing pleasure of your stepfather. Neither of you is paying any attention to the TV, but you both pretend to be immersed in the documentary. Until you become adventurous and rest your hand on his knee. He doesn't flinch.

"You've got some milk..." Zeke points at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh? Did I get it off?"

"No. Here, let me." He wipes the drop with his index finger. Swiftly, before he can remove his hand, you poke your tongue out, giving his finger a slow lick. He's frozen, and you take advantage of this to suck on his index, not breaking eye contact for one second.

"Thanks." You flash him a smile after removing his finger out of your mouth with a pop. You're threading on thin ice, and it's about to crack by the looks of his growing bulge.

"Do you think it's appropriate for you to suck on your stepfather's fingers like that?" Zeke's condescending tone makes you squeeze your thighs together, and he leans closer to you.

"You could've removed them from my mouth, daddy." Your hand travels from his shoulder to his chest. "Makes me think you liked it. That's not very appropriate either, is it?"

"Why, you little... slut." His calloused fingertips graze over your collarbone before snaking around your throat. You whimper at the tightness of the grip, a smile creeping on your lips. "Shh, you wouldn't want your mother to wake up, would you?" You shake your head, half-lidded eyes watching his every move. Zeke releases your throat and you already lifted your shirt. "So eager to please."

"Mmm, I wanna please you, daddy. Wanna make you feel good." Your hand is desperately trying to pull his cock out but Zeke has you pinned to the couch by your shoulders.

"Bet you've got a tight cunt." He licks his lips, imagining how you'd clench around his throbbing dick. "Bet you're also soaked."

"Why don't you see for yourself?" You take him by surprise with a kiss that's so wrong, but that feels so right. Zeke kisses you back, tongue exploring your mouth like it's uncharted territory while his hand snakes between your thighs. You're not fighting him by any means, no. In fact, you spread your legs so he can have all the access he wants, seemingly satisfied by your actions. And he's right, you're dripping for him.

"Am I wet enough for you, daddy? Bet that old hag is so dry." You don't know what possesses you to say those things, you never hated your mother. But Zeke just has that effect over you and you can't even think anymore.

"Now, now," he shoves two fingers between your folds and you throw your head back, "that's no way to speak about your mother."

"Oh, p-please, as if you give a shit about h-her!"

"Hmm, it's true. I wanted to break up with her until I met you. And I knew I had to make you mine." Zeke adds another finger, curling them up to hit your sweet spot. "I'm glad you're not as stupid as your mother."

"Shit, fuck me, please! Wanna feel your cock inside me, daddy!"

"Needy whore. Do you beg other boys like this?"

"N-no, just you! Only you!"

"Good, because starting today, you're not allowed to see other men. Not after I fuck you."

Finally, you think, finally he wants you. You bite on your lower lip when he spits on his cock, the glistening tip pushing at your entrance as you squirm and whimper. Zeke is by far the biggest man to fuck you, and you're sure you'll be sore tomorrow. Inch by inch, he bottoms out, filling a whole no one could have filled. Manicured fingernails dig into his shoulders for support because the man is so feral and aggressive, you feel the couch sliding back with every thrust. And your face — it's a sight for sore eyes, the way your lips form an O when he fucks into you, the way your eyes roll when his cock grazes over your cervix. He drinks you in, that's a fact.

"Fuck, you're sotight." Zeke grabs your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks. "Open that filthy mouth."

You obey, thinking he might kiss you, but the man merely spits into your mouth and you clench your spongy walls around his cock, swallowing before he can tell you to do it.

"Good slut." He praises you and you feel your cheeks burning, chanting his name like a prayer. "As much as I love you mewling like a bitch in heat," Zeke shoves three fingers in your mouth, "I need you to shut the fuck up."

You nod, eyes filled with lust and desire as he fucks into your poor cunt. The harder he thrusts, the more you want him, and so you buck your hips, earning a low growl from your stepfather.

"That's right, take it like the whore you are."

You want to ride him, want to scream his name, but you can't, not with your mother upstairs, but at this point, you don't even care if she hears you — all you want is the sweet release of your orgasm that's been building up for some time now. Zeke can feel your need by the way you pant and arch your back, and he decides to let you have it.

"Be a good girl and rub that clit for daddy, yeah?"

You don't waste any more time and do as you're told, frantically touching yourself, clenching your muscles before relaxing them with muffled moans. He seems satisfied by your little performance, slowly pulling his throbbing cock out of your sore, soppy cunt.

"You gonna suck and swallow, love?" He removes his fingers from your mouth, coated in your saliva, drool dripping down your chin.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You answer him eagerly, tentatively falling to your knees and without a warning, you take him into your mouth.

It doesn't take much to make Zeke come — with hollowed cheeks, you bob your head up and down, back and forth, palming his balls and swirling your tongue around his cock and he's putty in your hands. When he's close, he holds your head back so that you don't miss a single drop of his cum and, like the good stepdaughter you are, you swallow the entire load with a smile on your pretty face. Zeke mockingly pats your head and you look at him with glossy eyes.

"Same time, tomorrow?"

"Yes, daddy."

293 notes · View notes

whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

The Purest Things-Something There

Warnings: Mentions of murder. Canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2.5k

a/n: i am so beyond sorry that it has taken this long to get another chapter out. this doesn’t follow my post schedule that i had previously given, but hopefully this can be a good place holder till later this week.

The Purest Things Masterlist

May 2008

Bookend: "It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent." -Madeleine Albright

"There's no way I'm doing that," you rebuttal, "Hotch? Tell them it's a ridiculous idea." He stays silent, but his mouth twitches slightly.

Oh, you son of a-

"Richards is a classic narcissist. The challenge of facing a tough, fearless, and intelligent woman will give him his high. Narcissists are drawn to goal-oriented women, women who are resilient, adaptable, yet decisive. Show him that you are a good listener, but don't praise him."

"Think of him like a wild animal," Spencer adds, "You don't feed zoo animals because they are unpredictable. Remember, narcissists have an extraordinary sense of self, and when you praise his ego, you enable his unstable and feeble mind. He doesn't hear praise; he hears how much better he is than you. If you don't feed the beast, he won't have the stamina to combat your confidence later."

"Once you disarm him, I'll come in and challenge his confidence," Hotch concludes.

Could you have said that less attractively? That would have been more helpful.

Aaron cheekily smirks as if reading your mind but quickly looks away. You wish you didn't blush so fast-that you had some sense to keep your emotions to yourself. In a second, your cheeks are rosy, and you are convinced that everyone in the room can perceive your feelings as if you wrote them on little notes and passed them around.

You grunt and roll your eyes, "I hate all of you."

Derek snaps his fingers at you, "Lose the jacket."

"All men are pigs," you spit while removing your blazer, leaving you in a fitted tank top and your tight-legged jeans that hug your curves in all of the right places.

Derek wolf whistles at you, and you hurl your jacket at him. Aaron lets his eyes slide up and down your body, his gaze lasting longer than it should. He swears that as you stride into the interrogation room, your hips swing a bit farther side to side than usual. It is the very action that radiates courage, a mind coupled perfectly with itself and the world around it, concentrated and solemn.

Typically, Hotch would divert the task of adulating a narcissist to Prentiss, but he knows if anyone can take command of someone's attention, it's you. How does he know? Because you captivate him far more often than he cares to admit, defying his very being with every interaction. You are a secret weapon that he wants to keep concealed until you can allow your talents to shine genuinely. Aaron knows that now is your moment. ++++ "What is it that I am being accused of? Fraud? Embezzling?" The sharp-dressed businessman questions; his gaze is straying further below your eyes than you care for.

Pig.

You throw a file down on the medal table, and it slides across, stopping right in front of the man, successfully redirecting his stare somewhere other than your chest.

"Try murder."

His eyes widen, "You're joking. Come on, where are the hidden cameras? I'm ready for you to yell candid camera now! I am Milton Richards, for god's sake!"

"I don't know!" You shrug your shoulders. "Why don't you explain this to me, Mr. Richards. I'm just as confused as you are. What reason could a successful, charming, handsome, wealthy business mogul like yourself possibly have to kill someone?"

"Oh please," Richards scoffs, "This isn't an interrogation. You've already pegged me as guilty."

"I don't agree, but you have the right to feel how you feel."

He purses his lips, leaning as far away from you as physically possible while handcuffed to the table.

"Milton, why did you try to escape a moving vehicle when my team apprehended you?"

"Just felt like it, I guess," he shrugs mockingly.

"So, something just randomly compelled you to flee the custody of a federal agent?"

Richards leers at you. You stand up and walk around the table, leaning down next to him, "I get it. I do. You're a suave, wealthy, and ruthless business tyrant. You have to cover your tracks-do what it takes to survive."

He raises his eyebrow, turning to face you, your faces mere inches from each other. I got you now.

"Trust me. I know probably better than anyone what it takes to maintain a position you fought your entire life for. I'm a woman; I had to claw my way into the F.B.I. Do you think it's easy being surrounded by a team filled with uncontrolled testosterone? Womanhood requires balls; I see you keep your balls in your pants, cool, cool. Mine are on my chest, up top. As you've so duly noticed."

His eyes flicker to the aforementioned area, and you restrain yourself from gagging.

"And you know what, Richards? I use them every day of my life. Because in my line of business, sometimes I have to take the backdoor to get things done. Why do I get the sense that you were the same way before you became Mr. Wolf of Wall Street? How else does a kid who grew up in the projects become a multi-millionaire mogul by 27?"

"We both know what the other is capable of. C'mon, let's show each other a bit of respect here. No games, let's be upfront with each other," you appeal. ++++ Aaron watches as you work the room like it is your stage. You play the part perfectly. He admires your ability to absorb things and then responded rather than immediately react to douse firey circumstances rather than add to the flames.

Derek finds himself next to Aaron, smugly observing Aaron's visible fascination with you.

"She's fantastic, Hotch," Derek beams with pride. Hotch holds his breath behind pursed lips in an attempt to barricade himself from the feelings of foolish jealousy he feels creeping up.

I know she is. I think I recognize it a little too well.

Aaron knows that Derek will be scrutinizing his reaction to the commendation and refrains from responding.

Of course, Derek reads this lack of a reaction as a response itself. And he finds it strangely amusing. ++++ "Here's what I think happened," you twirl your finger around the manilla file, "I think you were having some money troubles and your top investors caught onto your little games. When you sat down, you volunteered the crimes fraud and embezzlement as reasons you assumed we brought you into custody. You listed them like they are apparent reasons for us to charge you. Those are two areas you are clearly willing to take the fall for and have cause to oblige by."

Opening the file, a photograph is revealed within of a murder victim. Richards shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stifling a cough.

"Do you know this man?"

"N-no," he claims as his eyes flutter from the photo to his hands.

Surprised by his blatant tell, you glance back at the two-way mirror.

Turning back to the suspect with a newfound spark in your eyes, you press harder, "Strike one. Try again."

"Excuse me?"

"The man in the image is Walter Barone, the C.E.O. of Jameson Whitely Associates...your accounting firm. Your company was going bankrupt, Milton. There was nowhere left for you to turn. So, do you want to try that again? This time, answer my questions directly and honestly."

"Walt had a reserve saved for me worth $5 million. Last week when I approached him about dipping into the fund to keep the company afloat, he withheld it. I wouldn't kill him for it, though."

"Well, see, that's the problem here, Milton. When he was found, that little reserve of yours was nowhere to be found. Naturally, you can assume where my mind goes when I try and put two and two together, right?"

"I told you," he says, clearly provoked by your accusation, "I wouldn't...didn't kill him."

"Wasn't it you, in your book, right? Who said, 'It's surprising what a man will do when properly motivated?' I don't know about you, but losing everything you'd ever worked for and having your one saving grace held from you seems like pretty good motivation."

Silence. "Oh, come on, Milton, now is not the time to act so arrogant!"

He slams his fists on the table; you abstain from being startled in an attempt to show him no fear.

Wild animals can smell fear.

"Arrogant, huh? Why don't you step up and prove me wrong? Prove you're better than me. You despise me for being successful; I despise you for your assumption that you could waltz in here like a tramp and seduce me into giving myself up. What? Too harsh? I'm not sure you and I are even the same species."

Hotch bursts into the room, and you quickly signal for him to stand down. I've got this.

He gives you a prideful wink. I know you do.

Somehow Aaron being in the room gives you that last little push to conclude this grand performance of yours. Slowly, you begin clapping dramatically for his little one-person comedy act. He certainly knows how to play the fool.

"Is that a dare? Challenge accepted. Your entire life, you have suffered from a disease... a fragile ego. You have built these walls of detachment so that you can conveniently solicit status to hide your true, weak self. You lash out because you feel it compensates for your insecurities."

"The truth is, despite being at the top of the corporate chain, every day you lead the life of a loser. You are willing to destroy people psychically, emotionally, and mentally. And you view that as a cause for celebration. You are the embodiment of a loser and abject failure."

Hotch touches the small of your back; you shiver at the sudden warmth that fills your body in reaction to it. He hands you a piece of paper, one that seals Richards' conviction.

"Milton Richards, you are under arrest for the murder of Walter Barone, Hank Simmons, Frankie Lisbon, and Jillian Ryder."

Hotch motions for you to do the honors.

"By all means, lead the way."

Holding yourself proud and tall, you waltz over to Milton and hoist him out of his chair. Inclining your lips to his ear, you tell him contemptuously, "You lose." ++++ "Way to go, superstar! You had us all on the edge of our seats," Derek says, wrapping his muscular arms around you. You breathe in his cologne and savor the sensation of being in his arms.

Since the day you met Morgan, you've felt a draw to him. Not in a romantic way, though you proudly admit he is hands-down one of the most gorgeous men to set foot on earth. He gives you the feeling of safety, warmth, and brotherly love. His hugs rejuvenate you after a long day of work, and you see to it that neither of you leaves the office without receiving your signature embraces.

Aaron observes you and Derek's shared embrace from the shelter of his office. Before he can comprehend his movements, his legs carry him to the terrace overlooking the bullpen.

What do you think you're doing, Hotch? Pull yourself together. They’re friends. Just like you and her are.

Dismissing his inner voice of reason, he calls out to you, "Y/L/N. See me in my office."

You grimace at his tone of voice but abide by his request.

Derek chuckles, "Green is not that man's color."

"What?" You turn to him, confused.

"Goodnight, superstar."

"Night, handsome," you blow him a kiss, trying to brush his comment out of your mind. ++++ "You summoned?"

Aaron's whiskey-colored eyes meet yours. The tempo of your heart quickens like a metronome.

"You did a phenomenal job in there."

"I've learned from the best." You. I've learned from you.

He clears his throat, "Those things you said...a-about the men on this team. Is that how you truly feel?"

Shocked by his willingness to believe such a misleading statement, you gasp and close the distance between the two of you.

You must have some nerve to believe that I would ever view you as anything other than the most upstanding man I've ever met.

"Aaron, what I said in there is further than the truth than I would have liked to have strayed. In fact, it was with you that I finally felt equal as a human being-like someone recognized me for my intellect and self-worth. A woman can't acquire that regardless of how 'equal' this world claims to be."

Aaron finds himself lost in your eyes, absorbing every meaning behind your words.

"It was a freeing feeling having someone I respect so highly show me similar respect."

No. Don't stop talking. Please. Hotch blushes at his inner monologue, incapable of comprehending precisely what kind of influence you hold on him.

"Anyway," you laugh, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face, "Sorry for my little tangent."

"No," Hotch interjects firmly, "Never apologize for expressing your feelings. I assured you last year that I'll always be available as a sounding board for you. That offer still stands."

Your gaze softens as you study him, his intentions, his mannerisms. He notices your pupils dilate, and it commences a chain reaction within his veins. To him, it's not the fact that you radiate beauty on the outside. Sure, you are physically fit and put in the effort to maintain your appearance. Naturally, that would be why someone like Derek Morgan would have you on his radar.

But, Aaron has gradually grown accustomed to the kindness that you seem to reserve just for him. He sees the differences between how you act around the team versus when you step inside his office or are alone in the car with him, even the way your confidence elevates when he walks into the interrogation room.

These differences aren't unique to just you, though. Aaron notices the same changes in himself when he is around you. Never did he expect to go home from work and lie in bed thinking about the way your eyes strayed on his for a moment too long, or how as he completed paperwork at his desk, he'd replay in his mind a cheesy joke you told the team. He knows how you like your coffee from observing you in the break room one too many times.

One cream, two sugars.

Your laughter warms his body from the inside out. When you talk about your favorite comic book with Prentiss and Morgan, the twinkle in your eye never fails to bring a smile to his face. He knows that you hate getting out of the car when it rains because your perfectly straightened hair that you spent god knows how long on will undoubtedly curl.

His changes were less evident on the outside. But, he knew that deep down, there is something there that wasn't there before.

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177 notes · View notes

shijiujun · 4 years

Note

“you know you’re singing to your headphones out loud, right” au for moshang plz sqh singing modern songs that mbj doesn't know and being hella confused 🥺

Featuring karaoke-loving Shang Qinghua who gets a bit too drunk at a Cang Qiong mountain gathering, and he goes all out.

Or when Mobei Jun wonders why Shang Qinghua is singing about another man called Liang Shan Bo.

---

Sometimes, he thinks about his old life before he ever had the misfortune of landing in a world of his own creation, with an annoying gaming AI system of sorts hounding his every move (in the beginning) or turning up at the most inopportune times just when he thinks it’s finally gone and left him alone (more recently).

Shang Qinghua remembers not having many friends when he was still Shang Qinghua, when ‘向天打飞机 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ was still merely his writing Weibo account moniker and when he had millions of people looking up to him for his crucial contributions in writing this amazing story about his son Luo Binghe and the way he overcame all odds to become a success with a harem of gorgeous women at his feet (damn you, Peerless Cucumber bro!).

Back in those days, he lived off cup noodles and instant coffee. If he didn’t have to leave the house, Shang Qinghua would simply curl up in front of his laptop, either writing for his novel or watching shows (clears his throat) - actual shows! Chinese period dramas were his favourite, where a skilled and intelligent consort in the harem would outwit all the other women to be with her one true love, the Emperor, who falls irrevocably in love with her.

And when he got bored, he switched from the laptop to his television to engage in his second most favourite hobby - Chinese karaoke. Going out to a karaoke bar would require some level of socializing, and also a few friends so he gets more bang out of his buck from what he pays for the room, but at home?

With advanced technology and a tiny ass microphone in either shining gold or silver, Shang Qinghua’s home entertainment system was his very own personal karaoke room, His tiny mic even had that echo-y effect on.

Shang Qinghua has a thing for classic Chinese songs - ‘The New Butterfly Dream’, ‘Liang Shan Bo and Juliet’, The Moon Represents My Heart‘ - and contemporary karaoke must-haves, like Wang Fei. For an embarrassing few days, the Chinese version of Baby Shark was a veritable earworm as well.

After transmigrating into his own story set in ancient times, where he lives without technology, Shang Qinghua would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the Internet. Laptops would be incredibly handy, and so would switches for lights, definitely indoor plumbing for toilets, and induction stoves. Phones too, that would be nice, rather than having to ‘send word’ with letters.

Of course, there is no karaoke bar or machine for him.

Not all is bad though. At least he transmigrated to Shang Qinghua in this world as a baby, so it’s not as if he was surviving on Internet and technology one day and left to do everything manually the next day since someone was always taking care of him. Peerless Cucumber bro, of course, wasn’t as lucky, but the man has definitely taken to this world (and his son!!) like a fish to water.

And as for himself, Shang Qinghua does not need to envy Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe either, because somehow, he has gotten the man of his dreams too, even if said man was a little cruel and rude to him in the beginning.

He has the love of his life (coughs coughs) and they’re stuck in this world for the rest of his life. What more is there to want? Not to mention how his cup of instant noodles betrayed him at the last moment, resulting in his death! It is slightly safer, ironically, to be in this world instead.

All is good except... well...

===

Shen Qingqiu marvels at the sight before him, torn between wanting to step in to stop Shang Qinghua, or watch this farce unfold.

He sometimes forgets where he, or where Shang Qinghua, who has been in this world longer than he, came from. They don’t always talk about the past when they meet, and aside from the occasional meetups, Shen Yuan is a part of him that doesn’t surface, not when he is with Luo Binghe.

Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, grew up here, and aside from referring to Shen Qingqiu by his Weibo account name, he seems otherwise well-adjusted, no hint of modern online writer Shang Qinghua in sight. It doesn’t feel as if he misses their original world either.

This evening, however, memories of modern times slap him in the face, quite literally.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe calls, frantic, tugging him back into his embrace out of Shang Qinghua’s way. Once Shen Qingqiu is safe in his arms, his eyes narrow at the bumbling, drunk idiot causing a scene in the dinner hall, “Shang Qinghua...”

Shang Qinghua stops where he is, and then before any one can stop him, he picks up a pair of chopsticks, brings it to his mouth, and begins bellowing his way through-

-Jay Chou’s Hair Like Snow.

“Shizun, are you alright?” Luo Binghe fusses, his hands coming up to cup Shen Qingqiu’s face when his Shizun doesn’t so much as respond to him. “Were you hurt? Did he hurt you? How’re you feeling? We’ll go back home now-”

“What is he singing?” Qi Qingqi frowns in disgust.

They all wince when Shang Qinghua attempts to hit a high note, but fails miserably.

Fuck me, Shen Qingqiu thinks, his eyes impossibly wide, who knew Airplane bro was such a karaoke fanatic?

“... maybe he is possessed by a malevolent spirit? Or perhaps this is an unidentified curse?” asks Ming Fan.

“Or is this some new form of cultivation?” asks Ning Yingying, curious.

Yue Qingyuan, seated at the front of the dining hall, cannot help but be concerned for him as well. “Shall we call Mu-shidi to take a look at him-”

They’ve gathered for their annual meeting - a condition that Yue Qingyuan has set in place a few years ago after Luo Binghe ‘stole’ (married!) him away from Cang Qiong Peak - and although Shang Qinghua said he didn’t mind that Mobei Jun was unable to accompany him today, he spent most of the dinner drinking alcohol while in a melancholic state instead.

Who knew that Shang Qinghua was a singing drunk?!

Hence their current predicament.

At the Sect Master’s words, Shang Qinghua suddenly turns around and looks at Shen Qingqiu. HIccuping twice, he then beams, “Cucumber-”

Shen Qingqiu has never moved that fast in his life. Within a fraction of a second, he has his hand pressed over Shang Qinghua’s mouth, holding onto him from the back.

“Cucumber?” everyone choruses in confusion.

“I believe your Shang-shishu has had a little too much to drink,” Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, nodding at everyone else. “We should... send him back to Mobei. Isn’t that right, Binghe?”

His disciple, his husband, still has on an affronted, murderous look for how Shang Qinghua almost brained Shen Qingqiu with his flailing arms in his drunken fit. The moment Shen Qingqiu asks, however, his expression morphs into something so soft and full of love that everyone who sees it chokes.

“Of course,” Luo Binghe smiles, devotion apparent in his eyes. “Anything Shizun wants.”

===

The words that are tumbling out of Shang Qinghua’s mouth are entirely incomprehensible, and so are the tunes he’s humming into his ear.

Mobei Jun thought he had gotten used to Shang Qinghua’s eccentric mannerisms, and also thought he knew everything about his husband, so many years later. Shang Qinghua is mumbling Chinese alright, but none of the characters put together make any sense.

Who is Liang Shan Bo? And who the hell is Juliet?!

His mood taking a turn for the worse, Mobei Jun hoists Shang Qinghua up further on his back.

After getting so drunk, the idiot had the gall to demand for a piggy-back from the throne room to their bedroom. Mobei Jun has never once suffered such indignity in his years of living. A bridal carry? Of course, anytime. A piggy-back? As if he was some beast to be tamed?

Well this definitely has to be a first.

While he was stewing in his thoughts, Shang Qinghua switches from that song to another one, and a stream of ‘du du du lu du lu’ emerges from his lips... AND something about... a sha yu? What the hell is that?!

Shang Qinghua lazily lifts his right hand as they approach their room, balls it into a fist and puts it to his mouth, as if he’s holding something, and whatever monstrosity Shang Qinghua is singing, his voice gets even louder.

Mobei Jun tosses Shang Qinghua off his back unceremoniously and onto the soft bed. Interrupted, Shang Qinghua blinks, his vision blurry, and is about to catch his breath and start singing again when his husband climbs in after him. Trapping Shang Qinghua with his entire weight, Mobei Jun seals his lips with a kiss.

“... My king...” Shang Qinghua murmurs in a daze, when Mobei Jun pulls back a few minutes later, his breaths coming out as short, harsh pants. “My king...”

“That’s right,” he says with a glower. “I’m your Da Wang, your husband.”

Mobei Jun doesn’t know who Liang Shan Bo is, but he’s going to make sure no other man’s name ever leaves Shang Qinghua’s lips again when they’re together.

And when his husband finally sobers up, he’s going to have a lot to answer for.

---

Songs Mentioned (YouTube Links in Comments):

The New Butterfly Dream 新鸳鸯蝴蝶梦－ A Chinese classic, sung by Huang An but done beautifully by legendary god of singing Fei Yu Qing and singing partner for the song A Yun Ga

Liang Shan Bo and Juliet 梁山伯与朱丽叶－ A Taiwanese contemporary classic of sorts by Genie Zhuo, most Chinese millennials would definitely have sang this at a karaoke once in their lives - Song is inspired by Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai, the Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet to some extent - They both die in the end and become butterflies, so they’re also called the Butterfly Lovers.

The Moon Represents My Heart 月亮代表我的心－ ANOTHER CLASSIC CLASSIC!!!

Baby Shark (Chi. Ver) － ˆThe baby shark hype did move to China, and it’s pretty hilarious LMAO and in Chinese, shark is 鲨鱼 (sha yu) but I’m assuming that in this world, there isn’t a shark kind of animal of sorts? So Mobei Jun and everyone else except SQQ wouldn’t know what a shark is or looks like?!

Hair Like Snow 发如雪－ By Jay Chou, another classic that all Chinese millennials would have sang in a karaoke bar

Wang Fei 王妃－ Jam Hsiao’s version is known best, and it’s pretty epic, not that anyone can reach any of the high notes in the chorus, but does that stop us from trying?!! Hell no!!!

---

Notes: My first Moshang?!! That didn’t really have a lot of Moshang time?! But thanks anon, hope this sort of works?!

#svsss #scumbag villain #穿书自救指南 #渣反派自救系统 #scumbag system #moshang #bingqiu #mobei jun #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #everyone else is somewhere there except my bb lqg #and anw karaoke sqh!!!!

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send-me-your-hcs · 4 years

Note

okay. for some reason mob boss tony kidnaps peter and it turns out peter is a little. (he gets so scared and couldn't help but get into the littlespace as a defence mechanism???) and tony freaks out because he doesn't know how to take care of a little.

This is literally so funny to me. Like just the thought of Tony going from “You belong to me now, baby boy” to “oh God why is it making that noise, Happy make it stop” is so fucking hilarious?? But damn if I’m not intrigued.

…

......am I doing it?

…….fuck me I’m doing it. Damn you, anon.

Warnings: mentions of human trafficking and abuse, ageplay, underage (but Peter’s age is unspecified and can be envisioned however you’d like).

The compound crumbles in less than an hour.

For all his bravado, Justin Hammer goes down almost too easily. Tony feels tempted to whistle as he walks through the compound’s warehouse, stepping over the slain bodies of Hammer’s underpaid cronies.

His team is just finishing up the last of the clean-up. The occasional gunshot echoes off the walls as Tony takes stock of all the merchandise he just inherited, debating what to do with Hammer once they get home. It almost feels like a waste of effort and time to torture the man before killing him, even with all the trouble he stirred up with the police. Tony’s tempted to just put a bullet in his brain and be done with it.

But, well. He isn’t called The Merchant of Death for nothing, and he does have a certain image to maintain. Plus, with Hammer keeping him company tonight, he’ll at least be partially spared from the usual tedium that comes with being the biggest mafia don on the east coast.

It’s as he’s wondering just what exactly he should do to Hammer first that Happy finally arrives, looking a little disheveled, but no worse for wear. “Boss,” he says, stumbling over the array of corpses with a muted curse, “compound’s clear. We’re ready to pack this all up and move out.”

Tony wipes the toe of his shoe off on some unnamed man’s bullethole-patterned sleeve. “Good. And Hammer?”

“On his way back to base as we speak, sir. I’ll have him ready for you when you arrive.”

Tony nods in approval, then notices the pronounced, telltale crease in Happy’s brow. Always a good sign.

“Something else you wanna tell me, Hap?”

Happy grimaces, deepening his forehead wrinkle. “There was an unexpected...uh...hiccup, sir.”

Tony lifts an eyebrow at the other man, equal parts curious and incredulous. “A hiccup,” he repeats, slowly, watching Happy’s face grow increasingly sour. “What sort of hiccup?”

“The, um...the teenaged boy kind?”

---

There are only two bodies littering the floor outside Hammer’s office: his enforcer, and his bodyguard. Happy scowls at the sight and starts clumsily rolling them out of the way, glaring at Bucky while he does.

Bucky smirks at Happy, pointedly not moving to help clear away the bodies lying between them. “Kid hasn’t stopped crying since you took Hammer,” he says to him, standing in the doorway like a sentry.

“Probably in relief,” Tony says, straightening his tie as Happy finishes kicking over the second body. “Who is he? Do we know?”

“My guess is a trafficking vic,” Bucky says with a shrug. “He’s got bruises. Seems kinda...out of it.”

Tony hums. “Well, I suppose we’re about to find out.”

Bucky steps aside and Tony strolls into the room, sparing a disinterested glance at Hammer’s shameful choice of interior decorating. The throw pillows are haphazardly strewn across the floor from the sofa; one of the grommet drapes is missing from the window. It’s a mess, but that’s not entirely unexpected.

Happy follows close behind him as he makes his way to the corner of the room, where the soft sound of pitiful sobs is coming from underneath the large desk. Tony peeks his head beneath the desktop just enough to confirm the kid doesn’t have a loaded weapon before he crouches down.

The little thing is balled up tight, wrapped in the missing window drapery and clutching one of the stolen throw pillows like his life depends on it. He seems naked underneath it, which confirms Bucky’s human trafficking theory and gives Tony almost an instant headache. There are bruises spanning the boy’s wrists and ankles that look new and swollen, standing out brightly against the boy’s very pale skin.

Tony clears his throat. “As comfortable as that looks, perhaps I could convince you to stand up so we can chat face to face, hm?”

The kid flinches, whimpering into the pillow he has pressed over his face. Tony sighs like an overburdened parent and says, “I don’t have all day. You have till the count of three to come out on your own before I come in there and make you. You hear me? One. Two…”

The boy’s soft-looking head of curls slowly lifts, and the next thing Tony knows, he’s staring into the biggest pair of honey-brown eyes he’s ever seen. They’re red-rimmed and brimming with tears, swollen from how long the kid’s been crying, but they stay obediently and nervously fixed on Tony as the boy slowly uncurls his limbs and crawls out from under the desk.

Tony’s somewhat surprised that the boy clings to his pillow religiously enough to let the curtain slip down to his waist, held up by only a single tiny, shaking fist. The boy won’t spare either hand to hold the drape up properly so it pools around his hips, revealing his slim, narrow torso, his perfectly unblemished skin.

There aren’t any other bruises, though more could be hiding under the curtain. Tony appraises the kid for a long, tense moment before he asks, “What’s your name?”

Thin arms squeeze the throw pillow tight enough to strangle it. The boy is still looking up at him with that damned pair of Disney eyes. He hasn’t stopped crying.

“‘m Peter,” he mumbles, sniffling.

His voice is cute. A little high for a kid his age, but in an endearing way. “Peter.” Tony nods, pleased. “I’m Tony. Tell me, Pete, how long have you been here?”

Peter glances at Happy, then at Bucky in the doorway, before shyly lowering his gaze to the pillow in his arms. He hugs it tighter and says, “Um...don’t...don’t know what day it is.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Happy says, sounding put out in that wonderful way he always does. “June 16th.”

The boy blinks, looking nervous and unsure as he says, “Since...two days.”

“Okay,” Tony says, “And where were you before that?”

Peter’s shoulders droop. He looks down at the floor with wet eyes, mumbling, “With bad guys.”

It takes everything Tony has not to smirk. “Bad guys? Worse than these ones?”

Peter nods. “They took me,” he says, his little voice completely heartbroken, “from Miss Jones’s place. They waited till she was asleep and they took me. S’been…” Confusion washes over his face, like he’s trying to access some memory that isn’t there. “It was winter. There was still snow outside.”

Before Tony can decide how to respond to that, Happy tactfully pipes up with, “Who the hell is Miss Jones?”

“Michelle Jones Adoption Center,” Bucky says, reading aloud as he stares down at his phone. “Looks like a non-profit adoption agency. Website says the founder also runs a foster home. Is that the one?”

All three men turn to look at Peter, who nods, staring at Bucky hopefully. “Uh-huh. They sent me there when my aunt and uncle died.”

Part of Tony is scared to ask. “What happened to your parents?”

“They died when I was little.”

“Yikes,” Happy says quietly under his breath, though not quietly enough. Tony gives him a reproachful look, then turns back to the boy, whose face is once again soaked in tears, clinging to his throw pillow like it’s a teddy bear.

Tony bites the bullet and says, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, kid, but now that you’ve seen our faces, I can’t let you go back to Miss Jones’ place.”

If the kid’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps staring down at his pillow, letting his tears drip down off his cheeks and soak into the fabric. “I just...I want…” His lower lip wobbles, and then the sobs come. “I don’t know. I don’t know. ‘m so - so c-confused. I just want my D-Daddy.”

For the first time in longer than Tony can remember, he’s at a loss for words.

“Want Daddy,” Peter says again, babbling, like a child. The crying is really doing nothing for Tony’s budding headache. “‘m scared.”

“I’m praying this isn’t what it sounds like, but, please tell me Justin Hammer wasn’t your Daddy. Ugh, Jesus, I’m never going to get the taste of those words out of my mouth. Blech.”

Thankfully, Peter shakes his head no, looking just as disgusted as Tony feels. Thank God. “I don’t...I don’t think so. I-I don’t know. They said I had to be good for Daddy. They said I couldn’t go home unless it was with h-him.”

Bucky jokingly says, “I’ll be his Daddy,” but he mutes himself when Tony lifts a hand to silence him, before turning to give Happy a helpless look. The man stares back, then silently gestures to his gun, the question clear as day on his face. Tony immediately shakes his head, waving the man’s hand away from his holster with a steely glare.

Okay, so. That’s interesting. Apparently mercy-killing the boy isn’t an option. Giving him back to gentle-hearted, law-abiding-citizen Miss Jones isn’t an option, either.

So where does that leave him?

Tony watches the boy cry a moment longer before resignedly asking, “Peter, how old are you?”

Peter wipes his wet face on the pillow, refusing to let neither it nor the curtain go long enough to use his hands. “Don’t...know,” he says, after a moment, his brows furrowed like he’s thinking it over hard. “They s-said that was up to my Daddy.”

Stellar. Great big help, that is.

Sighing, Tony rubs his temple to soothe his headache, taking a moment to really look at the boy in front of him. Peter is...well. It’s fair to say he isn’t unattractive. Hammer’s poor taste in interior design apparently doesn’t extend to sex slaves.

Tony’s done horrible, truly vile things in his career, but children are usually where he draws his thin, arguably nonexistent moral line. They’re rarely intelligent enough to interest him in any fashion, but Peter - for what it’s worth - has managed to pique his interest just enough that he finds himself actually opening his mouth and saying:

“Peter. Since I can’t let you go back to your foster home, tell me: would you rather come home with me instead?”

He lets the ‘instead of killing you’ go unsaid, since the boy is already having trouble wiping away his tears. Peter stares up at him with a frightened, mistrustful look that makes Tony’s hands twitch. There’s innocence in those eyes, sure. But there’s brightness too. For all the babbling and childish baby-speak Peter’s given him, Tony gets the very distinct impression that he’s far from stupid.

“With you?” the boy asks, hardly louder than a whisper. His tone is soft and wary, sounding every bit the child he believes he is. “You...you’ll be my Daddy?”

It’s a strange thing, to be fifty years old and still learning such intimate things about himself, like how fucked up he is for liking it when this sweet, baby-faced teenage boy calls him Daddy in his soft, childish little voice. Part of him can’t wait to turn around and see the looks on Happy and Bucky’s faces; the rest of him doesn’t want to take his eyes off Peter for even a moment.

He nods, giving Peter what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he steps forward, offering his hand for the boy to take. “That’s right, honey,” he says, his tone syrupy sweet. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Daddy’s here now.”

Peter looks between Tony’s outstretched hand and his smiling face, deliberating on what they both know is his only real option. Finally, he lets the curtain drop from around his hips to pool at his feet, revealing his slender legs and freshly-shaven pubic area. Tony’s brain momentarily goes white and fuzzy until Peter’s slim, soft hand hesitantly takes his own, still clutching that hideous throw pillow to his chest like a teddy bear.

Tony grants himself another long look over Peter’s gorgeous frame as he slips his suit jacket off and drapes it over the boy’s shoulders. Peter smiles gratefully and pushes his arms through the sleeves, his face darkening with a blush as Tony starts fastening the buttons. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Fuck. Forcing himself to swallow the growl building in his throat, Tony takes the boy’s hand again and leads him to the door. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

Peter clings to him as they step through the threshold. Well, Tony thinks to himself, his hand tightening around Peter’s own, at least things won’t be boring from now on.

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #ru answers #anonymous

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ariparri · 3 years

Text

Fluff Alphabet - Glitter Bomb

At long last, here's the fluff alphabet for Carson and Tulip!

I wanted to get this done first before finishing up the stuff for Isa and the other au ships.

I'm still practicing with moodboards since I'm not good at making them. This is the second one I made for Glitter Bomb because I wasn't happy with the first one.

DieRuca Fluff Alphabet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Carson finds Tulip eccentricity. He just loves how she isn't afraid to be herself. He loves a person with confidence, high self esteem and prides their own intelligence. He just finds that extremely attractive. Anybody can have a pretty face, but if the personality is terrible then everything else gets ruled out.

Tulip finds Carson, himself as a whole, attractive. She loves his style, the way he dresses like he's part of some band that plays in their garage and how he doesn't care if his style doesn't match. But what she finds most attractive is his humor and his laugh. Carson has a contagious laughter, and she's always finding herself laugh along with him even when she's trying to be serious. She just loves it, his sense of humor is great and his laugh always seems to brighten up everyone's mood.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Carson didn't really think about actually having kids. He did say that if he ever got a daughter, he would name her after his mother. Tulip at the time didn't see herself being a mother. She always saw herself to be more of an independent woman with her own ideals and goals. They both talked about it every now and then, both agreeing they weren't in any rush to settle down and have kids. That was until Tulip had an unplanned pregnancy and the topic of kids was brought up again. While Calum wasn't planned at the start, they both agree it would be nice to have a kid and see how things go about from there. After a while of thinking about children, Carson was getting a little too excited and that excitement was starting to rub off on Tulip. She eventually couldn't wait to have their first child.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

The preferred position they cuddle in is the sweetheart cradle. Carson would lie on his back and hold onto Tulip while she rests her head on his chest. Another position they cuddle in is the arm draper. They'll both lie on the bed, facing each other with their arms draped over the other. They're also fond of resting their head on the other's lap. Especially when it involves horror movie marathons and Carson just relaxes his head on Tulip's lap and she starts scratching his head. It's a soothing feeling.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Dates can be wild for Carson and Tulip. They have a poster full of date ideas and they choose five from the list before placing those ideas on a dart board for them to hit a target. Each gets three darts and whatever idea gets the most hits that's the date they go on.

A couple favorites are paintball or laser tag. They enjoy having a bit of a competitive game as a date, it makes it more fun and exciting. Another favorite is where they go thrift shopping and pick out each other's outfit to wear on the date. Tulip picked out a nice long rainbow skirt to match with a neon green crop top for Carson while he picked out anything in yellow.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world...))

Tulip: You are the spark to my flame

Carson: You are my twin flame

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Carson realized he was in love with Tulip when Jae and Diego joked about how he and Tulip were always budding heads. Carson claims it as a simple rivalry on who was the better prankster of the two. Not satisfied with his answer, Jae and Diego pressed on. It eventually got to Carson spouting on and on about how ridiculous Tulip can be, before he started trailing off to all the things he liked about her. He kept going on until he noticed the looks on his friends' faces and realized just exactly what he was talking about. It didn't take too long until Jae slaps his back and loudly announces that he was a lovestruck fool.

Tulip was quick to realize her feelings for Carson. She found out she liked Carson more than a friend when he was hanging out with another girl for some time. She didn't even know why she felt bothered by it till Tonks just bluntly told her that she was falling for Carson. She of course was in denial for some time. But when Carson went out on another date with this girl, it was clearly obvious that Tulip was in fact jealous and in love with Carson. But all that jealous tension quickly died down when Carson introduced the girl as his cousin who was visiting from Scotland. Tonks couldn't stop laughing and she never let Tulip live it down.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Being quite the charmer, Carson can be gentle. It's in his words and gestures. He always addresses Tulip in terms of endearment and when he does, his voice is tender and filled with so much love and emotion. Carson gives great foot massages, so he always gives Tulip a massage whether or not she asks for one.

Tulip's a bit more forward with her affection, most of it is done through actions than words. Whenever Carson is sitting down and Tulip is standing behind him, she'll place her hands on his shoulders and give him a gentle massage. Head scratches are another thing she often does for him whenever they're both just lounging about in the comfort of their own home.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

The way they hold hands often involves being wrapped around one another. They'll be sitting next to each other and Carson will have his arm draped over Tulip's shoulder and she'll reach her hand up to hold his own. The other one is similar to this but instead of sitting, they're standing. One of them will be behind the other, arms wrapped around their body while the other's arms are crossed to intertwine their hands.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

At first, they were both annoyed with each other. They practically challenged the other every chance they got when it came to pranks. It wasn't until Veruca asked them for help with Filch when they decided to put aside their differences and work together. They were pretty amazed with how well they both were able to work together and combine their own preferred pranks into one mega bomb. Both Carson and Tulip had some new found respect for each other after this prank and often pair up to create big pranks.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes. Both of them can get jealous. When Carson gets jealous, he can throw a little temper tantrum and Veruca ends up being on the receiving end of it. He would eventually step in and tell the person to back off. If they can't get the hint, well Carson's old tricks come into play and if Dennis also doesn't like the person he joins in. Carson can be a bit of a mopy cry baby though and would get a little clingy when Tulip realizes what's going on.

When Tulip gets jealous, she broods about it for a moment before setting up a mega dungbomb in the person's belongings. After hearing a loud explosion and seeing them run off screaming, Tulip is satisfied with the turn of events. Especially when Carson comes by to see it happen and he just burst out laughing. He pretty much knows who was responsible but feigned ignorance when asked about it.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Their first kiss had a bit of an outside help. On their second date, being paintball war, Dennis tagged along for the fun. It ended with Tulip getting the most hits on Carson. They were in the middle of talking where Carson was congratulating her, until Dennis basically jumped into the back of Carson's head pushing him forward, making him kiss Tulip. They pulled apart, a little awkwardly if it wasn't for the smug mocking croak coming from Dennis. Carson clearly wasn't amused but Tulip pulled him in for another kiss.

L = Love (Who says 'I love you' first?)

While Carson does like to express his affections towards Tulip, he's never actually said that he loved her before. Tulip didn't seem to mind since she was perfectly fine with how they express their affection. It wasn't until seeing just how romantically sappy Diego and Veruca were and how Jae points out that they haven't said it to each other yet. During one of their night outs to the bar they frequent, Diego and Veruca announce they finally started dating. In the middle of the excitement, Carson pulls Tulip closer to him and finally says those three magical words. It may not be romantically special, but it was perfect to them.

M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

Carson's favorite memory together was during the Celestial Ball. Tulip didn't have a date, and while Carson didn't go with anyone either, he promised her a dance. After Carson went through his rounds dancing with everyone who attended the ball alone, it was Tulip's turn to dance with him. He wasn't used to her dressing up, so seeing her in a dress was a nice surprise. They both had a fun time just laughing and dancing the night away.

Tulip's favorite memory of them together involved filling the entire Ravenclaw common room full of glitter and dungbomb filled balloons. They set it up to it popping on the dungbombs time, so everyone caught in the room were covered in glitter and dungbomb stench. The amount of trouble and the looks on everyone's faces were the highlights of that day. Even when they were in detention they couldn't stop laughing, Flitwick had to extend their punishment time.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

At the start of their relationship, Carson went all out with the tulip and balloon bouquets. It had to take Dennis biting onto him or croaking in refusal to get Carson to stop spoiling Tulip with all the bouquets. Other than the bouquets, Carson does buy her a lot of outfits that accentuate her figure, or even pins and necklaces from Zonko's as a reminder of her love for pranks.

Whenever Tulip is out and she happens to see some band merchandise, especially for bands Carson loves, she'll buy some for him. She buys mostly for the shirts and bandanas than the posters and pins. Carson definitely prefers them since they're everyday uses. Although she buys them for him, she sometimes steals the shirts whenever they're going to bed.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Red reminds Carson of Tulip all because of her hair. Every time he finds anything red, he instantly thinks it would look great on Tulip, something that would compliment her natural beauty.

Fuschia reminds Tulip of Carson. Despite blue being a color Carson often wears, his favorite color is fuschia. She's often reminded of the pink colored shirts he likes to wear with the Twisted Sister logo on them. Whenever she finds something completely ridiculous in that color, she'd send him a picture of it with the caption "This is clearly you"

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Carson likes to use many names for Tulip. Most common one would be Cherry for her hair. Other names he calls her are Babes, Cuddle Cakes, My Flame, Hotness, and Troublemaker. He also started calling themselves the Gruesome Twosome after Tulip's mother called them out of slight annoyance.

Tulip doesn't often use pet names, but when she does it's a mix between Dream Boy, Hot Stuff, Muffinhead, and Prince Charming. She mostly uses them as a way to tease him or feign annoyance with him.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Carson has a collection of old VHS movies. He usually keeps them displayed but some nights they'll have an old movie marathon. With Tulip, she sometimes challenges herself with watching the sunset and the sunrise in one day. She isn't entirely a morning person, so to watch the sunrise at least once every now and then can be a fun way to challenge herself to get out of bed. Carson sometimes joins her in this little activity.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

On a rainy day when both of them are simply bored, they'll sit on the sofa while slow music plays in the background and they're drinking hot chocolate. On other rainy days, they would go out and have a little water day. They'll chase each other around and jump around in puddles.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Dennis usually gets involved when Tulip is sad. If Carson's hot chocolate or blueberry muffins don't help comfort her, Dennis will jump onto Carson and stick his tongue into Carson's ear. He'll latch onto him and cause Carson to start shuffling around trying to get the darn toad off of him. Surely enough, Tulip will start laughing at them.

When Carson is sad, Tulip sometimes brings out the board games or turns on the ghost hunting channel. She also tries to make the blueberry muffins his mother often makes for him. Sadly, she isn't much of a cook so she makes a huge mess in the kitchen. Carson walks in to see Tulip close to having a crisis in the kitchen before bursting out in laughter and he's suddenly in a better mood. He then rushes to help her clean up and then bake the muffins with her.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Sometimes they talk about their families. While Tulip can be a little annoyed by her parents, Carson distracts her by talking about how his mother wear a dress when he was five. They often talk about past prank wars and old memories. Tulip likes to bring up all the times Carson cried about puffskeins just appearing out of nowhere, embarrassing him just a little bit.

Date ideas often come up, and whatever isn't on their date list they'll talk about it before adding it to the list.

They also love to reminisce about the times they annoy both Chester and Andre. Carson just has crazy fashion ready for when Andre wants to use him as a model and the atrocity he has to face when Carson comes out with the most ridiculous outfit.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Carson is actually a fan of health and skin care, so coming home to see Tulip having the face masks out he tosses his work to the side and throws himself onto the sofa to ready for some relaxation. They both also listen to music and well, sing together. Most of the music they listen to range from 80s rock, pop, funk, and a little bit of R&B and Jazz. Two terrible singers paired together so perfectly, neighbors must hate them. Carson also plays the violin if Tulip is having a stress day. The melodious sound that comes from the instrument helps soothe her from getting a headache.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

They both like to show off their intelligence, which usually comes into play with their pranks. They try to one up the other by performing a prank that can be seen as more superior than the other.

They also like to show each other off. Mainly when someone tries to bring down the other, they'll start singing a bunch of praises and all the accomplishments their partner has done. They're kind of the jealous, boasting couple.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Yes. You know that meme on Proposal Instructions? This one.

These were clearly joke proposals they both did just to get a laugh out of each other.

It was also a double proposal. On one of their dates to a paintball park, they invited a few friends for a group date. They were all pretty much in on the plan but didn't know the other half had the same idea. Tulip was the first to propose which made Carson stop and go, "Are you freaking serious?" before pulling out the ring to propose to her with. Everyone got a good laugh out of it.

X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now by Starships

youtube

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Tulip at first didn't think much about it. But after both of them did joke proposals the thought has definitely crossed her mind. Just like Tulip, Carson didn't really think much of marriage until he and Tulip have been dating for a while. It definitely would be a dream to be married and it would make his parents, especially his mother, proud.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Carson absolutely doesn't want a pet. Tulip already has Dennis and he is the only one that Carson is willing to tolerate. And Tulip is perfectly fine with just having Dennis as a pet. That is of course until they have Raylene and she wanted to keep a piglet they found hurt in the woods while on a camping trip. At first Carson wasn't a fan of it, but the puppy eye look his daughter was giving him made him cave.

#glitter bomb #tulip karasu #carson ivey #tulip x carson #hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #fluff alphabet

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shelby-love · 4 years

Text

ANTONIO DAWSON

Infection

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: Scenes are from CF (S8EP4). I might have focused on the plot a little bit more. Apologies.

At a Chicago Bears game members of Firehouse 51, the intelligence unit, and Chicago Med are tailgating.

"Kevin we're missing the pregame." Burgess says.

In mids of all the loud chatter outside Soldier Field you managed to snatch a place at one of the chairs in the little camp site Burgess and Kevin set up.

It's a sunny day and everything looks perfect as you fix your sunglasses. "Did you bring the right cable?"

"Of course I brought the right cable Y/N just give me a second." Kevin starts playing with the remote in hopes of getting it right. "Everything is great don't worry."

"Yeah but we're still missing the pregame." Brett tells him.

"Should I call Antonio?" You propose and look behind you in hopes of spotting your boyfriend. You find him in the crowd throwing the rugby ball to Casey and Jay.

"No no Y/N why you gotta be like that!" Kevin exclaims and when he sees Antonio looking at you confused because he doesn't know whether he needs to come or not he starts waving his arms around, dismissing him.

A few minutes after that Hailey comes striding towards you with food. "12 dozen sweet corn tamales from Garcia's"

"Oh my God!" You exclaim happily and join the of girls towards the food. "Thank you!"

"Hey! Wait until you eat the sausage." Kelly, who's at the grill looks utterly disappointed by your actions.

"Mhmmm." You mumble with Stella, both of you have a full mouth.

"Yeah do what Kelly says." Kidd comments while rolling her eyes.

Next to you, with a ball in his hands Jay asks Kevin, "Hey can you get that working before we gotta go in?"

"Shut up. If I hear another word about the damn TV..." Kevin mumbles and continues trying to fix the TV.

"Why aren't you waiting for the sausages?" Your loving boyfriend stands behind you, eyeing the tamale in your hand. You turn around to face him and motion towards the tamale, "I know you want this."

To your words he opens his mouth and you give him a few bites before hearing Kelly say, "Antonio not you too!"

Victoriously you wrap your arm around Antiono's shoulder and start laughing while he wraps his own arm around your waist.

Times when you all got together were fairly rare. That's why this meant a whole bunch to you. Antonio presses a kiss to your cheek before someone starts screaming and commotion arises.

"Hey we're firefighters! Back up! Back up!" In a split second the whole day changes for the worse and you run after Matt. The crowd makes room around the man and you crouch behind his head.

Antonio looks just as confused as you do when your eyes meet. Natalie and Brett join you. "He's alive." You say after you remove your fingers from his neck.

"He's seizing!" Nat says when the man starts to shake uncontrollably.

"There's blood on his leg." Kelly notices.

Your full attention is on the leg as you watch Nat pull his jeans up so she can see the wound.

"Jesus Christ..." The words leave your mouth the moment you see the wound.

"What is that?" Antonio asks while looking at you and Natalie.

"I have no idea." Natalie answers truthfully.

"I don't want to be that person Nat but why does that look like necrotizing fasciitis?" You tell her after examinating the wound with her.

***

Your words proved to be true after they drove him to the hospital. Necrotizing fasciitis was indeed what the man suffered from and unfortunately died from.

What was even worse was the fact that he wasn't the only one that was infected.

Sylvie and you got dispatched to a house where you found two people dead inside from the same infection.

"Oh my..." Sylvie walks closer to them but you put your arm in front of her and halt her movements.

"No no don't come closer," You grab your radio to contact dispatch. "Dispatch... This is ambulance 61. We need a hazmat unit to 25 43 North 18th Street."

"Happy Halloween Chicago." Brett mumbles.

***

"If I didn't know what that was I would've thought those people were attacked by sharks." Jay said as he and Antonio followed you out of the house. They arrived at the scene to make sure you're alright and get inside on how that happened.

"It's the same thing that guy had at Soldier Field." Sylvie says. "Necrotizing fasciitis."

"But Chicago Med says that chances of infection in this bacteria are 4 in 1 million per year." Antonio adds and you nod.

"And that it's not contagious." Brett adds.

"Now we've got 3 cases in the same city in the same week." You sigh and open the door of the ambulance.

"So we were able to identify our first patient from Soldier Field." Antonio opens his notepad to read out his name. "His name is Stewart Anderson and he's a student at the Central Chicago University."

Your eyes fall on the hazmat suits that are walking in and out of the house. "If this is spread on contact... Or even worse... Airborne... This entire city is going to drop like flies."

"We'll keep you guys posted." Jay sighs before walking towards the SUV. Brett makes her way in the ambo and you're left with Antonio.

He looks cold and alof but you know that he's worried sick about you. "Take care of yourself baby. I mean it."

You grab his hands and squeeze them tight, "Now you know how I feel."

You find yourself in his arms in an instant. Soft kisses are pressed to your head before you both pull away from one another.

He leans in to give you a promising kiss before the two of you have to go your separate ways.

"Stay safe." You tell him while your hand grips the door handle of the ambo.

"Always." He winks before walking away.

MASTERLIST

#one chicago imagines #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #chicago med #chicago fire #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago med imagine #chicago med fanfiction #antonio dawson #antonio dawson imagine #antonio dawson fanfiction

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himbowelsh · 7 years

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Oh no little Maddie broke my heart ;_; please tell me that she spends more time with them? I can't with "nanny this and nanny that", it sounds so sad and winnix sounds absolutely adorable with her! Maybe tell about when she finds out about their real relationship? Or is Dick that just that uncle who lives with Lew (because they're private and of the times) - and she doesn't really think about it until she's adult. Or does she figure it out on her own? And when they tell her they're shocked. NEED

AN: i honestly think after that trip (the most fun vacation of maddie’s life, up to that point) she just talked so incessantly about her father and “uncle dick” that after a point kathy was just like, “oh jesus, take her for a month, go ahead” and she and nix sort of switch off whenever convenient. maddie ends up spending a lot of time with her father.

“We need to have a conversation,” Maddie announces as they walk in the room.

Dick and Nix freeze in the doorway in sync. It feels, inexplicably, like they’ve just stepped into a business meeting. Her arms folded demurely in front of her, back straight and eyes narrow, Maddie is every inch the distinguished corporate executive Stanhope Nixon wishes he could be.

Nix looks at him, bafflement in his eyes. Dick can only shrug. “Okay,” he says, taking a step further into the room. “What about?”

“Sit. Please.” At an oh-so-generous nod from the fifteen year old girl, Dick pulls out a chair. Instead of taking it for himself, he offers it to Nix, who smiles his thanks. Only once he’s seated does Dick make himself comfortable at the table.

When he looks over at Maddie, there’s a grimace on her face. “See,” she says, “this is just what I mean.”

“You’re going to have to be a little more expressive,” Nix tells her. “Contrary to popular theory, we can’t read each other's’ minds, let alone yours.”

“What’s going on, Maddie?” Dick asks, leaning forward. Their daughter (he’s only come to think of her as their daughter now, after almost a decade of Maddie being Nix’s daughter, and it’s an adjustment that feels right) presses her lips into a thin line.

“I need to understand the nature of your relationship,” she tells them.

Nix and Dick exchange baffled glances. Slowly, Nix’s eyebrows creep up. Dick feels a new tension settle into his shoulders. After years of living together, this is exactly the sort of question they’ve become adept at avoiding. They’ve just never had it asked point-blank like this, and certainly not from a teenage girl.

Their teenage girl. The same one who lives with them more than half the time, who witnesses their casual intimacy and domestic comfort. If anyone would know something that Nix and Dick aren’t eager to make public, it’s Maddie.

Dick watches Nix’s swallow, sees the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat. He looks a little frightened, that flicker of panic in his eyes impossible to miss. He doesn’t know what to do, and neither does Dick.

“We live together because it’s easier,” Dick begins slowly, feeling himself fumble as the familiar excuses spill from his mouth. “We were war buddies, you know, and it’s cheaper than getting separate places. Having a roommate makes it easier to –”

Maddie clears her throat. She looks phenomenally unfazed. “You two,” she interjects, “are much more than roommates.”

“Madeline,” Nix says, in that tone of voice he always uses when he’s trying to be a responsible parent. “I don’t know what you’re implying –”

“Are the two of you in love?”

She doesn’t beat around the bush. That’s the epicenter of Madeline Nixon; at her core, she is intelligent, headstrong, and startlingly perceptive. Her mind works even faster than her father’s. She figures things out whether she ought to or not, and she is never afraid of asking questions – especially when she already knows the answer.

If Maddie is asking so bluntly, she isn’t just curious. She knows, but just wants to be certain. Dick feels the ball of anxiety in his stomach grow to record proportions.

Nix exchanges a glance with him. He looks startled, a little unsure. Dick wants to step up, but he has no clue what to say.

“You share a bedroom,” Maddie continues. “I’ve seen you kiss before.”

“When did you see that?” exclaims Nix.

“I go to bed at ten o’clock, but that doesn’t mean I go to sleep. I came out of my room once and saw the two of you on the couch. Together.”

All illusions at subtlety are falling to pieces in front of Dick’s eyes, like a child’s drawing soaked in the rain. He swallows hard and opens his mouth, searching for any excuse, but Maddie shakes his head to cut him off before he can start.

“Please don’t lie to me,” she says. Then, perhaps she sees the fright in her fathers’ eyes; her ruthlessness gives was to something gentle, curious, much more childlike in it’s earnestness. It’s a look Dick is familiar with on Nix’s face, and seeing it in Maddie is a balm to his raw nerves.

“I would never tell anyone,” she adds in a softer tone. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. And I wouldn’t judge you, either. I just… want to know the truth. I need to know.”

Her eyes flicker between Dick and Nix; there is a hint of uncertainty there for the first time, as if she is not sure of her next move. Then she reaches across the table and takes both their hands. “I’ll still love you both just the same.”

Dick exhales. Next to him, Nix reaches over with his free hand and takes Dick’s own. They form a heart around the table, and when Maddie realizes this she lets out a soft laugh.

“Okay,” she says. She smiles, and the last of Dick’s anxiety melts away. “I understand.”

He and Nix glance at each other again, pride shining in their eyes. They couldn’t be happier to have helped raise such a fine daughter.

#winnix #my writing #halelikehell #madeline nixon

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judefan815-blog · 4 years

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