#got in pretty early on the venture so I made it big

[arteastica]

Early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (20)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.1k

If you were ever asked to describe nostalgia to someone who has never experienced it before, you would say it’s like walking down the hallways of a museum at sunset, with nothing but the sound of your footsteps as company, echoing down seemingly infinite walls decorated with sepia memories that belong to happier, distant times.

For you, nostalgia was always the one who spoke most clearly in the silence, and just like the corridors of that metaphorical museum, it just so happened to be ghost-quiet in your office that evening. And in such solitude, when the only heart beating in the room belonged to you, your otherwise welcoming workspace became an echo chamber of unsought feelings and unwanted thoughts.

You looked at his empty chair. So much for a quick ride. You thought. It had been hours since him and Lord Koch had ventured into the field, and even though the Sun had decided to call it a day, you hadn’t. According to the clock ominously ticking on the wall before you, as well as the animated chatter coming from the dinner hall downstairs, your shift had ended a while ago, yet somehow you found yourself still sitting at your desk, fountain pen hovering over boring administrative stuff you had read at least three times that day, working extra hours, all because you didn’t want to go home.

Not without seeing him first.

Making sure he got back safe was part of the reason, albeit a small one. Because, if you were to be honest, in the end the decision to stay working overtime for free, had come down to something way less noble. It was simple: If you were still in your office by the time he came back, there was a chance of something happening, there was a chance of something changing between the two of you. And that possibility was enough remuneration for you.

Your eyes, however, begged to differ and, tired of looking at the same words over and over, decided to wander around the room until they found the big window behind his desk. The sunset sky, with its sad pinks and nostalgic blues, held nothing but the promise of more loneliness. And that melancholic palette you would’ve otherwise found pretty, as well as the empty chair behind his desk, acted as nothing but a reminder of how much you missed him, and you didn’t mean just today.

You missed how things were back then. You missed the warmth of his skin and the gentleness of his touch. You missed getting drunk on the rich sandalwoods of his hair: musky, earthy, a little sweet, and just the right amounts of spicy. You missed the addictive taste of his lips as well as the velvety, honeyed words that would leave them in your most intimate moments. And most of all, you missed the way his cobalt eyes would make your heart soar whenever you looked his way and found he was already staring.

That was the best feeling.

And it had been so long since the last time you had experienced it.

The calendar would argue it had only been a week, but if that was the case, then that week surely had the personality of a month. The clock would call it nonsense, saying that time was measured and constant. You knew that Leon, however, would agree with you.

‘Alike are time and water.’ He had told you just earlier that day, as he read out of a small leather notebook snippets of what was, in his own words, ‘some nonsense’ he had written on his way there. ‘Flowing slowly one drop at a time, or rushing by in the blink of an eye.’ You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then I look at you and watch it freeze, knowing little has it to do with the mesmerizing view, when I find myself in the midst of that algid winter that is you.’

Maybe it was the bright oranges and mellow pinks of the sky you were staring at, or the connotation of endings that sunsets have, but your vision started to get blurry.

And sitting there, listening to the distant clatter of cutlery, unsure if the thing beating in your chest was a knot or a heart, you felt forgotten. Like the stuffed animal nobody packed before moving out, or the grandmother nobody visits anymore. And you had no one else to blame for that.

If you could, you would have pinned everything on time. On how it makes children turn into adults and forget to write home. On how it turns friends into strangers. On how it makes people grow tired of each other. On how it was starting to make him feel fictional, making you wonder if whatever beautiful thing you had, ever even existed.

If you could, you would have excused yourself behind ignorance, hiding under the blanket of confusion, claiming you didn’t know what happened.

You wished you could. But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t, because you knew exactly what had happened. You had heard the words leave your mouth that morning. Very clearly, even through the loud sounds of your own pleasure. You had said them. Words that he probably didn’t need. Words that had been distasteful enough to push him away.

Guess that saying I love you can sometimes make you unlovable, after all.

He did warn you, after all: Scouts don’t start families.

They avoid love.

They don’t marry.

But, who was even talking about marriage?

Beginning to grow frustrated with yourself, you tried to blink your feelings away. But the more you tried, the more they would pour out, and the more your eyes would start to burn as a result.

And that was a problem because, in that very moment, you heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps down the hallway.

You rubbed your eyes one last time as they approached, trying to erase any traces of your lingering melancholy, and when the door opened, your fingers hurried to fiddle with whatever papers they found in the top drawer of your desk.

You didn’t know if he had even thrown as much as a passing glance your way, but judging by the discreet, distressingly quiet way in which he headed straight to his desk without uttering a single word, you could be forgiven for thinking he hadn’t even noticed your presence at all.

And it hurt. It sure did. His silence was so sharp it stabbed the deepest part of your chest. So loud it broke you like the wailing of singers is said to shatter glass.

But, if you were to put yourself in his shoes, you would understand.

Why would he say anything?

You tried to reason with yourself while your fingers caressed papers and closed drawers.

Why would he say anything to his dumb, incompetent assistant?

If you were him, you wouldn’t utter a single word either, out of fear of being misunderstood. Because, in the presence of someone as foolish as her, any simple, commonplace action could risk becoming fuel for even more stupid, delusional ideas forming in her little head.

However, although it had taken that little head a while, it was finally beginning to understand.

That she was just his clumsy, fuckable assistant who, after opening her legs for him a couple times, had accidentally fallen in love in the process. Nothing more than a stupid, inexperienced city girl who didn’t know anything about life in the Survey Corps.

But that same city girl was starting to learn. Yes, she was was.

You rose up from your chair.

It may take her a while, but she always learned.

You walked towards the fireplace.

And once she learned, she made sure she never forgot. Never forgot that she was hired to make his job easier, not harder. To handle his mail, not to warm the left side of his bed. To administer schedules, not to moan his name. To revise budgets, not to beg for orgasms. To bring him tea, not more problems.

And like so, with all that in mind, you retrieved the kettle from the fire.

It wasn’t hard to believe that the Commander of the Survey Corps had other things in his mind. More important, better things than his foolish, lovestruck assistant.

You carefully poured boiling water into a porcelain cup.

But to this foolish, lovestruck assistant, the problem was accepting all the aforementioned.

You sliced a lemon and watched it sink into the water.

It was hard to accept that he didn’t feel the same way you did. It was hard to accept that his lips didn’t instantly curve at the sight of you, the same way yours did at the mere thought of the cobalt in his eyes, and that little frown he did when he was tired. And you didn’t need to look at him to know he had it on his face right now.

You didn’t demand to be the first thought he had when he opened his eyes, nor the last one when he closed them at night. But you just wanted to be a thought.

Just a thought. Maybe the one he had when the first snow fell, or when new buds sprung upon old trees. When the first rain of the summer fell on him while out on the field, or when a gentle breeze mischievously shifted his hair out of place in the fall. Or when it lovingly caressed his cheeks in passing, just like you would right now.

If you could.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you threw a glance his way. He was sitting at his desk, head down, hand busy on what you guessed was the report about the new horses. And it was so very funny. If you had it in you, you would have even snorted. How something that could bring so much joy could also bring so much pain. And even more puzzling it was, how a heart could feel both at the same time.

He was so beautiful. Sunshine strands falling on his face, hiding the depths of his thoughts. The genius of those strategies that were always several moves ahead of what anyone was capable of.

So attractive. The frown in those jungle eyebrows telling you it had been a tough day for him too.

You forced your eyes to look away.

Of course anyone would fall for him.

You thought as you added a spoonful of honey and watched it melt into the boiling water.

Maybe you could forgive yourself for having done just that.

You picked up the tray with whatever steadiness your trembling hands were capable of, and, in the company of a desperate, uncomfortable hammering in your chest, cautiously made your way towards him, the hesitance present in your footsteps making you feel as if you were in some sort of cage, approaching a wild animal.

It shouldn’t be like this. You had been bringing him tea for months. Every night. Without fail. So, why did it feel as if it was a complete stranger you were about to serve? As if you didn’t know how many cubes of sugar he took or how many spoons of honey he enjoyed.

“Be careful, in case it’s too hot.” You warned him, carefully placing the tray on the empty corner he always left for his tea. “I didn’t know when you’d be coming back, so I wasn’t able to let it cool down first.” You avoided looking at him, although it wouldn’t even matter if you did, because from the corner of your eye you could tell he was doing just the same. Head down, eyes on his papers, just like yours were on the tray, as you took your sweet time adding sugar cubes to his cup.

He likes it sweet. His tea. Very sweet. You reminded yourself, stirring as slowly as you could, praying the sugar cubes would also take their sweet time melting. Because, some hopeful, silly part of you still believed he would say something. You needed to confirm he could still see you. You needed to make sure you hadn’t become a ghost from his past. Not yet.

And for that purpose, even the coldest ‘Thank you. You may go’ would do it for you.

If you couldn’t have his hand to hold or his arm around your shoulders, the smallest word of acknowledgment would be enough.

But when none of those came, you realized you had no choice but to leave. Quietly. Collectedly.

Despite the painful knot stuck in your throat.

Leave. To your room. Where you could take care of it. Where your eyes could bleed an ocean, eroding the boulder-like thing you had for a heart. Chilling what was once warm inside.

“If you don’t need anything else, Commander, may I be exc-”

“Are you going to him?” The sound of his voice made your heart explode inside your chest, and its abruptness left you wondering if he was even talking to you.

You wanted to believe he was, but he kept his head down, pen in hand, unmoving; making it hard for you, in your desperate state of mind, to tell.

“Commander?”

“Are you going to meet him now?” He asked again, and this time his eyes found yours, dissipating any doubts you may have had.

And you would have allowed yourself to indulge in some form of cheer, happy he was starting any sort of conversation with you.

You really would have.

If only his eyes weren’t the color of a midwinter night, starless, pitch black, so dark it was impossible to see what was hiding in them.

But something was for certain: whatever it was, it wasn’t there this morning when he left.

-

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @apts2000 @lucifers-nipple-piercing

#arteastica writes #aot erwin #attack on titan erwin #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #commander erwin #erwin smith #snk erwin #erwin smut #erwin snk #aot fanfiction #erwin smith x reader #shingeki no kyojin erwin #erwin x reader #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #erwin smith x y/n #erwin smith x you #erwin angst #aot fic #aot x female reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot x reader #aot angst

[floydsmuse]

Christmas time in the City 🎄

warnings: none! it’s all fluff <3

pairing: Bob Floyd x f! reader (no y/n)

description: after having been trying to plan a trip to the city for the holiday season for so long, Bob finally makes it happen & decides it’s the perfect opportunity to pop the big question. (wc 2.3k+)

-

a/n: hi hi! soo i finally got around to writing a little christmas fic :) i love this time of year so much & this idea just popped into my head. it really only seemed fitting to write it with Bob, so i hope you enjoy it ! as always, likes & comments are great! reblogs are appreciated too🥰💗 tysm!

————————————————————————

both you & Bob were looking forward to this trip, ever since it was booked back in March. it took much planning & scheduling, but by some miracle & Bob somehow being able to pull some strings at his job, it all seemed to work out. Bob & you would be flying out to NYC for the up & coming holiday season.

you were eager. jumping for joy when you received your plan tickets in the mail. this was always a dream of yours, to go to the city especially at Christmas time. it was even more special since you were going to spend the trip with your lovely bf, who you felt so incredibly thankful for. you two were a match made in heaven, soulmates even.

you had known each other for the past 6 years, having met through mutual friends. after about a whole year of treading around each other & flirty remarks being shared, Bob finally asked you to be his gf & you so happily said yes. since then, you both were like two peas in a pod, doing almost everything together.

you & Bob had been trying to plan a trip to the city for quite a while now but with his job & the many obligations in the way, the trip was always put aside for a later date. your bf, however, was determined to make this the year to go on the trip. you weren’t entirely sure how he did it, but he somehow made it come to fruition.

this venture to NY was going to be remembered for a number of reasons. Bob had some surprises up his sleeve, one in particular that would change both of your lives in the best way possible. on the outside, he was holding it together surprisingly well. but deep down on the inside Bob was a nervous wreck. you didn’t seem to notice anything was off, so he figured he was doing a pretty good job at composing himself.

~

the big day had finally arrived. you & Bob were heading off to NYC. you two walked hand in hand through the airport looking for the right gate. tiredness consumed the both of you from having to catch an early flight, but excitement was the overall feeling,

“can you believe it Bobby?! we’re really going to New York & during Christmas time! what could be more magical than that huh?”

you lean into him, having now reached the gate & walking onto the plane, still hand in hand. he leans over to place a light kiss onto your head,

“i’m over the moon that it all worked out my love. this is going to be one for the books.”

you could feel his crooked smile against your forehead, as an even bigger one spreads across your face at his words. you two make it onto the plane, find your seats & prepare for takeoff.

~

after a long but excitable flight, you & Bob finally reach your destination. you are both tired beyond belief & opt to just head on over to the hotel to get some much needed sleep in a nice & cozy bed. you figured that exploring the city could wait until tomorrow & Bob couldn’t help but agree. you did make sure to catch a glimpse of the beautiful sights of the city through your uber window while driving to the hotel. as soon as you arrived, you took off your shoes, climbed into bed & snuggled up into Bob’s chest. once your head hit the pillow, sleep overcame the both of you.

~

it was the next morning. you & Bob were fully recharged & ready to take on the day. you bundled up & decided to take your little polaroid camera with you. Bob bundled up too. opting to wear a prescription pair of sunnies, to block out the sun & avoid any irritation it would cause to his crystal blues. while you were in the bathroom, Bob pulled out a little velvet black box from his luggage & opened it up to make sure that the ring was still lying in its place. Bob could already feel himself getting teary eyed at the very thought of what was going to go down later, but he was abruptly interrupted from his thoughts by your sweet voice asking you ready to go? Bob took that as a sign to rush like a mad man. not wanting to get caught. he quickly shoved the box in his jacket pocket, zipping it up & acting as casual as possible,

“ready as i’ll ever be my love!” Bob replied back cheerfully. you two gather up any of your other belongings you felt necessary to bring along & headed off into the crowded streets of the big apple.

~

first up on the list was breakfast. your tummies were grumbling, so you both decided to stop at a cafe & grab a bite to eat. it was packed. which of course wasn’t a surprise in the least. you somehow scored a booth in the corner, where it was rather intimate, a bit quieter from all the chatter, & was seen as an opportunity to just enjoy each others company.

through bites of food & lots of laughs, you found yourself just itching to go exploring the streets of the wonderful city. Bob could see the anticipation gleaming in your eyes & as soon as you reached the point of being full & content, you head off to your next destination.

you two walk off the yummy food you just consumed, arms linked together & looking around in every direction, wanting to catch all of the sites & people in your wake. there was just so much to see & you didn’t want to miss a single thing. you practically skipped over to this shop around the corner book store, perusing the shelves & looking for a potential book to read for the plane ride back. you also stopped at a seller on the street selling random items of clothing. you decided to buy a pair of ear muffs that were just too cute to resist, while Bob purchased a fuzzy scarf that was perfect for today’s forecast. one of your last stops was to grab a little cup of hot cocoa, to battle the chilly air & enjoy its sweet chocolatey taste. you two continued to walk through the streets, admiring all of your surroundings. Bob was leading you to your next special place. its view being just on the horizon.

Rockefeller Center’s ice rink was in full view now & Bob could hardly keep his smile at bay, just knowing how badly you’ve always wanted to go skating there. you look over at in awe, as your bf stops in his tracks,

“well honey, this is our next stop for the day. what do you say we slip on some skates & hit the ice?”

your smile grew two sizes & you practically tackled Bob in a bone crushing hug. you couldn’t believe he had taken you to skate at THE Rockefeller Center. you were sure that something like this really only happened in movies, but that was the thing about being with Bob. every day felt like a movie, or even more so a fairytale. you nodded eagerly at his question, pulling him by the hand & down the steps to retrieve your ice skates.

with your skates on you waddled onto the ice, immediately taking hold of the wall’s ledge with one hand & grabbing onto Bob’s arm with the other. you were so happy for bringing your little camera along. the laps around the slippery ground consisted of you trying your very best to keep balance & Bob was treading lightly beside you, occasionally going over to the ledge for further support. every time you’d happen to take a fall though, Bob would swoop in like prince charming & help you get back up onto your feet.

there was one instance where for whatever reason Bob tried to do a little trick for you, even though he was fully aware of his incapability to do it. he really just wanted to hear you let the sound of your sweet giggle. you didn’t hesitate to bust out your camera, catching him live in action & biting back a laugh at his silliness, but you couldn’t hold it in for long. the trick didn’t quite land, as Bob took a rather hard fall to the ground. you quickly yet oh so carefully rushed over to him to make sure he was okay,

“Bobby! baby! are you alright?” your voice was laced with evident concern, as you bent down to be eye level with him. Bob shifted slightly from his place on the ice & the next thing you knew, he was pulling you down into him, gently trapping you under his weight. both of your faces were flushed & time seemed to stand still. Bob looks at you so lovesick & you can’t help but let out a giggle at his ogling eyes,

“you gonna kiss me or what Floyd?” you tease.

Bob obliges, leaning in & your lips meld together in a sweet kiss. you didn’t care about the likeliness of onlookers witnessing this little act of affection. you were just lucky to share this moment with your bf & you couldn’t possibly see how the day could get any better than this. but boy were in for a real treat!

~

you two finished up on your skating, managing to leave with only a few measly bruises & Bob’s shoulder sore from his nasty fall. but you both knew that it was worth it & a once in a lifetime experience.

you both agreed that you were in need of some food, having worked up an appetite from the activities of the day. Bob planned on taking you to a fancy restaurant, wanting to spoil you before he popped the big question. but what you were really hunkering for was a big slice of pizza. your eyes just lit up at the very sight of the parlor & after all, you knew New York was known to have the best pizza around.

Bob couldn’t resist your excitement to trying it, so you each grabbed a slice & enjoyed it together. you let out the occasional mhmm at the flavors on your tongue. the mixes of garlic, tomato sauce & cheese were just to die for & you couldn’t be more pleased in this moment. Bob was liking it too, but he couldn’t help but look over at you in absolute awe & thanking God that you stepped into his life all those years ago. he truly was the luckiest man to walk the face of the earth.

some time had gone by with you & Bob finishing up your pizza, your tummies going back into a state of fullness. it had become dark outside now, the sky casted a shade of navy blue with stars littered all around & buildings were lit up like Christmas lights. speaking of Christmas lights, you were positive that you two were done for the day & were about to head back to the hotel. but, you were mistaken & instead taken in a different direction.

you found yourself walking up to the famous Rockefeller Christmas tree, lit up in all of its glory. it truly was a beautiful sight & so much prettier in person. photos didn’t even come close to doing it justice,

“wow Bobby, isn’t it just magical? i can’t believe i’m really witnessing all of it’s beauty in real time.” you let out, gazing up at the tree in pure amazement & disbelief,

“it certainly is a sight, but it’s not near as beautiful as you are.” he quipped back, making you playfully scoff & lightly smack his chest. Bob could be so romantic but also cheesy at times. but you didn’t mind that in the slightest. infact, you loved it.

you’re leaned in close to him, your arms were looped around each others & your head was lying against his chest. you feel Bob gently pull away, an obvious absence of his warmth is felt. you turn to see what he was doing, but you don’t see him right away. it takes you a second, but once your gaze looks downward, you can’t believe the very sight before you.

Bob was down on his knee, looking up at you with longing eyes. he held out a velvet black box, with a pretty diamond ring inside. your palm flies up to cover your mouth in shock & you let out a gasp that’s muffled. Bob swallows hard & begins his spiel,

“you make me the happiest man alive every single day we spend together. i wanna grow old with you, i wanna build a family with you & i’d like to call you my forever..” Bob pauses for a moment, getting choked up & his words getting caught in his throat. you reach the hand over that was covering your mouth to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his skin in encouragement. you too had tears in your eyes,

“sorry— *clears throat* where was i? *shakes his head in remembrance*…right. you mean everything to me my love & there’s not a single person in this world who i’d rather wake up to or spend the rest of my life with. so, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? will you marry me?” Bob managed to get out, but the tears were now slowly starting to stream down his face. he looks up at you with wet, pleading eyes. just waiting patiently for your answer,

you let out a shaky deep breath & reply back with,

“yes, a million times over! yes!”

Bob lets out a breath of his own that he’d been holding onto & relief immediately washes over him. you put your hand out for him to hold onto, as he slips the ring onto your finger with ease. he pulls you into him by your hips & your lips meet in a passionate kiss. imaginary sparks & fireworks fly across the sky at the news. you two were officially engaged.

the both of you spent the rest of the evening celebrating & in talks of potential wedding/honeymoon plans…

-

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#bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob top gun #tgm #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd top gun #robert bob floyd fic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

[yankstrash]

dylan and addy didn’t argue, and that’s a known fact. she’s an angel, he’s the sweetest boy, what could they possibly argue about? 

the only thing that could spark something between them would be something that makes the other feel uneasy. a big one: addy’s safety. 

dylan wasn’t an overprotective boyfriend, but he sure as hell liked to look after his girlfriend and always keep a close eye on her to make sure she was safe. she was heaven sent and had a heart of gold, how could he let anything happen to her? 

during the early days, when addy filled dylan in on her douche bag of an ex boyfriend, one of the biggest things that stuck out to him was her ex’s total lack of care for her safety. the big one for dylan, he let her walk home. alone. at night. 

dylan couldn’t believe his ears when he heard this. their college town was safe, but nowhere is ever safe enough to be walking by yourself in the darkness late at night when anything could happen. 

ever since dylan heard this, he made her safety his priority, and at the top of that list was making sure she never stepped foot on a sidewalk alone at night ever again. 

and she hasn’t since. 

but was she about to change that out of pettiness? 

sadly, yes. 

one of the other very few ways to spark an argument between the couple would be parties. addy was never a party girl, and although after she started dating dylan she had opened up to them a bit more, it still wasn’t her favorite scene. 

dylan wholeheartedly knew that, and so he promised her he would always stick by her at parties and leave whenever she had had enough. she never wanted to seem like a clingy, needy girlfriend, but this was all new to her. 

but, dylan was a 20 year old boy. they are dumb, they make mistakes, they forget easily and they can be careless, especially when they drink. 

dylan had had a bit more to drink than normal tonight, and suddenly he and ethan were boucning off the walls, running all over the house, doing keg stands any chance they got and just being dumb. 

it didn’t bother addy much at first, as she occupied herself talking to some of the girlfriends. however, when a couple hours had passed and she hadn’t seen her boyfriend, she began to grow irritated. 

when she eventually did find dylan in the kitchen downing a shot, he hardly acknowledged her presence (besides to ask her if she wanted a shot herself). 

she had reached her limit for the night and yearned to go home. after trying again to get dylans attention and failing, she ventured out on her own.

she genuinely did really want to go home, but she also had it in the back of her mind that going home alone would piss dylan off, and she’d be lying if she said that didn’t play a big part in her doing it. 

she was irritated, and wanted to share the feeling with him. 

the 20 minute walk back to her apartment went smoothly. while it was pitch black out and she did feel a bit uneasy, she made it back safely. it’s not like it was an abnormal thing for her to do, as her ex always left her to venture for herself after a night out. 

she entered her apartment and immediately began getting ready for bed. within minutes, she was makeup free in her pj’s and climbing under the covers. however, it didn’t take long for her phone to start ringing. she already knew who it was, and so she hit decline and turned it on do not disturb. 

she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was bursting through her front door anyways. 

and she was right. 

ten minutes later, there was loud banging on her apartment door. groaning, she got out of bed and made her way to the front door, feeling anxious. 

she didn’t like arguing with her boyfriend, but she put herself in a situation where an argument was bound to happen. although, he did a pretty good job of that himself too. 

she quickly checked the peep hole to make sure it was dylan, and when she saw the familiar black curls under a backwards hat, she sighed and unlocked the door, opening it. 

“thank GOD!” dylan exclaimed, launching himself into her arms. 

addy toppled back a bit, as she was not expecting the sudden gesture. 

“i had no idea where you were! a couple of the girls said they saw you leave, but weren’t sure if someone came with you. did you use my card that i linked to your uber account?” dylan asked hurriedly. 

addys heart dropped as she knew how upset he would be at her confession. suddenly, she began to feel bad about the anxiety she was about to give her boyfriend who always tried his absolute best to keep her out of harms way. but she asked for it. 

“no, i walked.” she simply stated. 

dylans eyes bulged out of his head when he heard that. 

“you- what?” he asked, hoping he had heard her wrong. 

addy crossed her arms over her chest as she said, “i walked home, dyl. i didn’t call an uber, i walked myself.”

sadly for dylan, he had heard her right. 

“adeline!” dylan exclaimed. 

the use of her full name was a clear indicator he was not happy. he rarely ever used her full name, frankly he cant even remember the last time he did!

“you walked home? at night? in the dark? by yourself? why didn’t you tell me you wanted to leave or at the very LEAST use the card i put on your uber account to call a ride?!” at this point, dylan was pacing with his hands in his hair. 

addy rolled her eyes as she said, “i couldn’t get your attention even if i wanted to. i tried going up to you twice to say i wanted to go home, but you wouldn’t even spare me a glance! you were too busy kegging with ethan and acting dumb to notice i was trying to get your attention!” addy raised her voice a bit as she spoke, but still kept it at a moderate level so she wouldn’t work herself up too much. 

“why didn’t you just smack me upside the head?! or ask one of my teammates to?! or even ask them to walk home with you?! there were a million things you could’ve done instead of walking home by yourself! the one thing i urge you NOT to do!” dylan also began to raise his voice. not because he was mad, but because he was frightened right now. 

“i shouldn’t have to beg for your attention to let you know i want to leave! you know how i get and that i have a limit, yet you were careless tonight and acted as if i didn’t even matter!”

dylans face softened a bit at her response, but he was not going to let this conversation end without getting his point across. 

he sighed and slowly walked over to his girlfriend, whose cheeks were growing red from the frustration she was letting out. he placed his hands on either side of her face and looked her in the eye. 

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i was careless tonight and acted stupid. you’re right, i shouldn’t have gone that far and i should’ve been more aware when you came up to me. i apologize for that one thousand percent, but baby, don’t punish me like that. not in that way. you can punish me in any way you want, but don’t do that. don’t put your self in harms way just to teach me what’s right. as much as i try to keep you safe and always make sure you’re not harmed, that’s not fair to me. i know you’re upset with me and you have every right to be, but don’t do that. ever. it would tear me to pieces if something were to happen to you, especially if it’s something i can prevent.”

addys eyes were locked with dylans as he spoke, and she could feel tears stinging at her eyes. she looked away for a moment, and that’s when one fell. 

she knew he was right. he was so right. 

as upset as she was with him in the moment, it wasn’t fair to do that to him. she knew how much her safety meant to him, and although he upset her tonight, it didn’t compare to how he felt now knowing the danger she just put herself in to try to teach him a lesson. 

“i’m sorry.” she barely squeaked out as more tears fell from her eyes. “i’m sorry, dyl.”

dylan was pulling his girlfriend into his chest immediately, both of them completely forgetting about the near shouting match that was just happening barely 60 seconds ago. 

“shhh, it’s okay baby. it’s okay, just calm down.” he said as he soothed his hand up and down her back. 

“look at me, add.” dylan said softly after a minute of them embracing. 

addy looked up from her spot on his chest with glossy eyes. 

“you know i just want you safe, right? i’m not mad at you, and again i’m sorry about the party. but please don’t do that again, okay? i need you safe.” 

addy nodded at her boyfriends words, taking them all in. 

she felt bad about what she had put her boyfriend through, and really just wanted to go to sleep at this point. 

“can we go to bed, dyl?” she asked. 

dylan placed a kiss a top her head before saying, “of course, angel. let’s go.”

#angel!gf x dylan duke #dylan duke #dylan duke imagine #dylan duke blurb #dylan duke fic #umich hockey

[edmunsonss]

You Belong With Me || E.M.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x  GN! Reader

Summary: Miscommunication and feelings that might not be reciprocal put your friendship with Eddie, your best friend, at risk. Should you tell him how you feel? Or will someone beat you to it and confess their feelings first?

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Swearing, smoking... that’s about it really. The slight reference might not make much sense on this part but it will in the future.

Masterlists & Taglist  

A/N: I started writing this during my first month of college or so. It’s far from being done, but someone has given me the little push I needed to finally get this first part out there. Wanted to give thanks to @mochaoreos​ for reading this (and more) and giving me feedback, I appreciate it loads :)

°∴,*⋅✲°∴ °∴,*⋅✲°∴ °∴,*⋅✲°∴  

You had just arrived home after going to another one of Corroded Coffin’s shows at The Hideout. Eddie was trailing right behind you as you threw your jacket on the couch and announced your arrival. To no one’s surprise, the only response you got was utter silence, meaning your father was still away at the work trip he had promised to return early from, while your mother had stayed back in the office to work. 

Any other night, you would’ve been upset at the thought of having to eat dinner alone. Thankfully enough, Eddie happened to be with you, which made things better. In fact, you were excited at the thought of having the house to yourselves because it meant you’d finally get the chance to have a movie night.

You stared back at Eddie with a bright glint in your eyes, which made him chuckle, “What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly before making your way to the kitchen, “I was just thinking—”

“Oh dear, we really are in trouble, aren’t we?” He teased with a smirk. You scoffed and ignored him, instead kneeling down to peek into the cabinet where you kept your baking supplies and ingredients. 

“Rude. Anyway, I was thinking that, since we’re in the first week of October, it’s like the perfect opportunity to have a scary movie marathon. We could even bake some cookies!” You exclaimed, an excited smile on your face.

Now, one thing about Eddie was that he wasn’t big on baking whatsoever. In fact, he despised it because anything he tried to bake without your guidance turned out to be a health hazard. However, he’d pretend to be the biggest fan of baking in the phase of the earth if he got to see your eyes shine and face brighten in excitement over and over again.

So he nodded and helped you gather all the ingredients for normal sugar cookies while you ventured out into the living room to play some music. You heard Eddie groan loudly when a Bee Gees album he’d heard a million times already—thanks to you, of course—started playing loudly. You snickered evilly before sauntering back towards the kitchen. 

“Please turn that shit off,” Eddie whined, but you could tell from the smile on his face that he was merely joking and enjoyed the album much more than he’d ever admit. He’d once told you Bee Gees music would be nice to get high to, which had you laughing for a while.

You let Eddie work on the frosting while you focused on making the cookie dough. As anyone would expect from you both, things got messy pretty quickly. His dark hair ended up covered in flour and your face splattered with colorful frosting. You shared a lot of laughs with your best friend as he helped you remove the frosting from your face with a wet towel and you tried to shake the flour out of his hair to no avail. You felt guilty for ruining his hair, knowing how much effort he put into styling it.

Eddie didn’t take your guilt for a second and made you drop the cookie cutter in your hand before he pulled you close to him when How Deep Is Your Love started playing. You leaned your head on his chest as he swayed you both side to side to the slow rhythm of the music. You tried to ignore the way your heart picked up at the gesture and tried your hardest to bury the thoughts that started to surface in the back of your mind.

“Never thought I’d see a day where metalhead Eddie Munson would be slow dancing to a Bee Gees song,” You laughed, leaning your head back slightly to get a better look at him. “Wonder what the Hellfire guys would say if they knew, especially Henderson.”

Eddie shook his head as he gently pulled you closer again,“Say it and they’ll all call bullshit. They think too much of their Dungeon Master.”

You knew you were one of the few people, besides Wayne, who got to see this side of Eddie. The side of him that wore his heart on his sleeve and would never stop smiling or being affectionate towards those he loved. You got to know the Eddie that would beg for a hug after a tough day and who’d cuddle with you when it got too cold—or on any occasion really, he needed no excuses to cuddle. You treasured that with your whole heart.

It was hard for Eddie, being vulnerable. He always expected something bad to happen, whether it was an insult, a prank, or a joke. He felt like luck had never been and would never be on his side, which often translated into insecurity and isolation. Yet, for some reason, he trusted you enough to know you were the exception.

“You really are their idol, huh?” You smiled, aware of how much the Hellfire boys loved him.

“You say their,” He pointed out, “Am I not yours too?”

“Of course not, I can see right through you, Munson. I know you’re a big softie on the inside, whole meanie act doesn’t work with me. I do admire you, though, if that makes your big head feel any better.”

Eddie’s smile only grew at your words and you felt him give your waist a soft squeeze. He leaned in close to you, his dark hair tickling your cheek as he whispered in your ear, “I admire you too, more than you could ever imagine.”

His words left you even more flustered than you already were, but you didn’t give it time to let it show. Instead, you pulled away from his comforting embrace and reached for the cookie cutter you’d dropped earlier.

“C’mon now, instead of being so cheesy, why don’t you go take a shower while I cut the cookies and put them in the oven, yeah? I promise I’ll have a bowl of candy ready when you're back.”

He nodded and broke into your personal space once again—not like you cared one bit—so he could leave a kiss on your forehead, “You’re the best. Are my things still where I left them?”

You hummed and shook your head yes as you started pressing the cookie cutter into the rolled out dough, “Yep, top drawer underneath the sink. The towels are back in the closet though.”

While Eddie was away showering you tried to busy yourself with accommodating the cookies in the baking trays to ignore the stupid butterflies fluttering around in your tummy. It was an annoying feeling that had started to become familiar since it seemed to appear ever single fucking time Eddie did as much as look at you funny.

You had started to think that maybe you had an allergy to Eddie’s drugstore cologne. As blatantly stupid and far from the truth your thoughts were, ignorance was bliss. If worrying about a stomach bug rather than your feelings was the thing that would help you sleep peacefully at night, you’d keep it up.

You spent the rest of your time deciding on which record to play next, still indecisive on whether to play some Metallica or Black Sabbath. You went for Master of Puppets and let it play as you gathered a few of the blankets scattered around in the living room and dropped them on the couch that was right in front of the TV. 

Eddie silently crept up behind you as you accommodate the pillows on the couch. At some point, he stood right behind you and reached up his arms to tickle your sides, making you jump up in surprise in the process.

“Holy shit, Eddie! You scared me!” You exclaimed and turned in his embrace to hit his chest in the process. He laughed loudly and gave you an apologetic look that you knew he didn’t even mean. 

Eddie didn’t let you go as he started humming along to the song playing, Battery, “This is definitely much better than your hippie shit.”

“The Bee Gees are not even hippies! C’mon, they’re disco icons, the best of the best,” You argued back.

“You hype them up too much, they’ve got nothing on ABBA,” You gasped in mock offense and pushed him back as your face morphed into one of fake disgust, playing up your theatrics to get a laugh out of him.

“You cannot have any cookies, Munson. You don’t deserve them after the blasphemy that just left your mouth.” You finally get the laugh you were looking for after that comment. He flipped his damp hair on your face, which made you groan as you dried your face.

You started to walk away from him and into the kitchen, “You’re such an asshole, Eds.”

You could hear his loud laugh at that and could almost imagine the way he shook his head before trailing right behind you.

Once the cookies were ready and out of the oven, you disappeared to go get changed, not before giving Eddie a warning, “Don’t you dare eat the frosting while I’m gone.”

————————————

When you got back, the sight that greeted you made a big smile appear on your face. Eddie had turned up the volume of the music so much that even the neighbors would be able to hear, then he got to work.

He’d pulled his long hair into a messy bun that sat at the nape of his neck with hairs sticking out both at the bottom of the bun and around his face. He was hunched over the counter, a bag of bright red frosting in his hand and he was singing along to the music. You couldn’t see what he was doing, so you moved closer to him and peered over his shoulder.

You stifled a laugh at his action. The reason why he wanted you to cut up some cookies in the shape of gingerbread men suddenly made sense to you as you watched him frost a poor decapitated gingerbread man.

You didn’t quite know it, but you’d remember that moment forever. How could you not? Eddie looked beautiful like that, with a slight pout of concentration on his lips and furrowed brows, strands of curly dark hair framing his face. You loved it all… you loved him. 

Those three words made your world stop spinning on its axis the moment you caught the thought floating around in your brain. Your heart plummeted to your stomach as everything you had been trying to ignore rose to the surface and refused to sink back down. Of course the stupid butterflies were not the result of a stomach bug, nor did heart problems have anything to do with the way your heart sped up when you were around Eddie. 

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ That was the only word that existed now, the only one you could think of as you stared at your best friend with eyes as wide as saucers. 

He eventually turned to look at you, proudly showing off the gingerbread man with a few streaks of frosting going down its body from where the head should be. Had it been any moment, you would have laughed at the gruesomeness, but you weren’t able to do anything other than stare.

Eddie tilted his head to the side and laughed awkwardly at the way you were staring at him, “What is it? Have I got something on my face?”

His words brought you back to reality. You blinked and met his eyes as you tried to come up with something to say. Your stare moved all over his face until you spotted an incriminating bit of red frosting on the corner of his lips.

You gladly took it as a way out and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, “Yes, right there! I thought I told you not to eat the frosting, Eds.”

Eddie quickly moved to cover up the evidence by wiping his face, but missed the spot every time. You took a step closer and wiped at the corner of his lip with your thumb. It could’ve been your imagination, but you swore you saw his eyes soften as he looked into yours, a soft smile slowly forming on his face.

Had you been bold enough, you would’ve stood closer to him and taken his rosy cheeks into your warm hands to press your lips against his chapped ones. You would’ve told him all about the feelings you’d been bottling up for months. You didn’t. You didn’t because you couldn’t even fathom the idea of losing him, of ruining years of friendship for feelings that he didn’t reciprocate. You couldn’t let your treacherous heart make you lose him.

So the only thing you did was cough to break the silence and took a step back, “I’ll forgive you if you let me play one of dad’s old scary movies.”

“No fucking way, I’m still traumatized by the last one.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Two movies, a plate of cookies, and a bowl of candy later, you were sitting on the porch of your house, a thick blanket over both your backs. You were leaning your head against his shoulder as you smoked together. As much as you hated to admit it, you hadn’t been able to stare into his eyes, nor had you been able to talk in coherent sentences, which was why you were thankful for the silence that was between you.

A cloud of smoke appeared before you as you exhaled and gave the cigar back to Eddie. In a kind gesture, Eddie pulled you flush to his side and accommodated the blanket that was about to fall off your shoulder. You mumbled out a soft thanks and nuzzled your face into his neck with a sigh. The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with his musky and cheap cologne was comforting, like a drug you wanted more of. 

“Hey sweets, can I ask a question?” He mumbled. You hummed in affirmation.

“Have you ever… Do you ever wonder what being in a relationship’s like?” There was a beat of silence where you didn’t say anything, so he started rambling, “I’m sorry if it’s a stupid question. I know we never talk about shit like this but ever since Gareth met Simone, I can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like.”

You almost burst out laughing at the irony of his question, “Only like, everyday. When you like someone I guess it’s common to…”

You trailed off, realizing your mistake. Any trace of humor on your face was quickly wiped away by the words you’d just uttered. You trusted Eddie with everything you had, but you knew that uttering those words out loud had been a mistake. You knew he wouldn’t let it go until you confessed.

He pulled away from you slightly so he could look at you better. His dark eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed at the new piece of information he had just received, “You like someone?”

His tone indicated nothing but pure curiosity. There was no teasing, so you decided to tell him the truth, “I do, yeah.”

“What happened to the ‘I don’t believe in relationships’ shit?” Eddie wondered. You groaned.

“Don’t be unfair, Eds. I said that after I got my heart broken. Even if that wasn’t the case though, people can change.” You tried to defend yourself, which made him chuckle.

Unbeknownst to you, your defensiveness had told him much more than you’d let on about the subject you had eyes on. Still, he didn’t say much, “They’re that special then. To make you change and all.” 

“I guess you could say that,” You replied and, for some reason, felt yourself get bolder as seconds passed, “He’s sweet and kind, creative too. Also has the coolest hair and he’s a genius at playing the guitar.”

You were dead sure he’d caught on by then, especially after the guitar part. You thought he had noticed, which was why you weren’t surprised when his arm fell to his side and he stood up, avoiding eye contact with you.

He scratched the back of his neck and mumbled out a few words you couldn’t make out, “You should uh… tell him all that, if you haven’t already. For what it’s worth, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Then Eddie paused, and there was a beat of silence that seemed to stretch out like a never ending corridor, “I should go, don’t wanna get home after Wayne does.”

He promised to call before getting into his van and driving away. You sat on the porch until you finished the remainder of the cigarette you’d been smoking. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV, it was already past two in the morning so you figured you’d wait for your mother to get home, knowing it wouldn’t be long until she did.

When you finally heard her car pull up into the driveway, you sighed. Part of you felt relieved to have her there, hopeful that maybe she wouldn’t be too tired so you could talk to her. However, the bigger part of you felt guilty for even thinking of holding her back from going to bed because of some teenage drama she probably didn’t give a shit about.

However, keeping it to yourself was impossible. When she walked in, despite the bags under her eyes and tired face, she sat down on the couch right next to you and asked how you were. Those words were enough to get you to break. Everything you’d been trying to hold back escaped your mouth and you spent a long time sobbing on your mother’s shoulder, sure that you had just fucked up one of the best things in your life.

Your mother didn’t ask for an explanation as she held you, so you didn’t give her one. She eventually had to get up and go to bed, finally consumed by the tiredness that was plaguing her body after her nightly shift. You stayed behind and managed to fall asleep for an hour or two before the sun finally rose. There was still hope in your heart that maybe when he called you later that morning things would be fine, as if nothing had happened. Sadly, yet to no one’s surprise, that call never came. 

#eddie munson x reader

[justplainwhump]

Styling

Felix gets Ali a job opportunity at WRU.

Loosely aligned with the Pet Safety Series. Follows [Felix].

Content / warnings: BBU, an outsider being drawn into the system, reluctant(?) whumper pov. BBU-typical dubcon/noncon implied at the end; not explicit. Something more about WRU demo pets.

Ali had left early in the morning, after their first night. But on the kitchen counter, Felix had found a wrapped up sandwich, a bottle of water and an Aspirin. A phone number had been written all over the sandwich bag. Let me know if you liked it - A.

Smiling, Felix had texted him a photo of his lunch in the park behind the facility, careful not to reveal the location.

Ali had replied with a photo of a sandwich just like the one he'd made him, not hiding his work place, a luxury hair salon down town. Oh, look what I'm having! It's a match.

One thing led to the other, one night to the next, and to Felix' own surprise Ali grew into a constant in his life, the light touch of his kisses, the warmth of his body, the smell of his cooking, the sight of his dark eyes drinking him in in the morning.

*

"You don't actually sell cars, do you?"

It was one of the days where Ali worked an afternoon shift, while Felix had to get ready in the morning. With one leg in the dress pants, Felix paused and turned towards Ali.

"Does it matter?"

"Depends." Ali stared at him, hesitating. "Is it people?"

"Depends," Felix replied. "Some would say so. It's a matter of definition, really." He pulled the pants over his other leg and zipped them close. A part of him was getting ready to run and not see Ali again. Would be a shame, really. He'd started to like him. "They were people once. They signed up for it though."

"Pets." Ali stated it without judgement, only mild curiosity. "You're selling pets. You work for WRU?"

"Mh." Felix met Ali's gaze. "Does it... change things?"

Ali squinted, lost in thought for a moment, before he shook his head. "You think it should?"

"I've had dates who got judgmental." Felix shrugged. "It's a pretty controversial business."

"We do have pets in the salon sometimes." Ali pushed himself up in the bed. "A handful of our clients own Guards or Romantics. They bring them in, too, and we style them. I don't judge." He picked up Felix shirt and tossed it to him. "I do judge you for lying to me."

"I would've told you," Felix said, catching the shirt, heart racing at the boldness of his next suggestion. "In fact, Ali, I think I might have a job for you."

***

Ali Beheshti was and had always been a cautious man. His parents had been refugees, and a lot of their mannerisms and fears had been passed down to him. Don't trust the system. Don't trust people who pretend to know what's good for you. Stick to your own business. Always know a way out.

The first time the gates of a WRU facility slid open for him and then closed behind you with a small hiss, he wondered how Felix Kane had made him so readily betray this very part of himself.

Then Felix jogged up to him with that easy smile of his that could light up an entire room, and Ali forbid his thoughts to venture further down that route.

"So glad that you could make it! Big day today. Important client, some heartbroken youtuber who's been talked into a bet that not even a WRU pet could make him not think about his ex. However this trial ends, our products will be on thousands of screens, and I want them to look great."

Ali slapped the large trolley that held his equipment, swallowing down the unease roiling in his stomach. "I've got my red carpet set with me. I can make them camera ready."

They stepped into an elevator, and Felix pressed a kiss on the side of Ali's neck. "You're a saviour."

"Thank me later." Ali gently pushed Felix away. "This is a professional call, remember?"

"Sure." Felix grinned and swiped his id over the keypad. "I will thank you alright, love."

Ali eyed the keypad. Designed to make sure nobody could get in without a permission. Or out. "These pets," he said. "They signed up for this, right?"

"'Course they did." Felix raised an eyebrow. "They all do. Otherwise it would be illegal, wouldn't it? The ones you're going to meet - our demo pets - they have heartbreaking pasts. They're so much better off with us than they've been before. WRU saved them."

"Then why does the security look like a prison?"

Felix didn't miss a beat. "Maybe it rather looks like bank? They're worth a lot. Them and us put a lot of effort into training them to be at their best. People want to steal them. Others want to liberate them. Idiots, really. Our pets don't want to be liberated." He cast Ali a warm smile. "They're very obedient. You're safe. You don't need to worry."

"I, um. Never mind." He had not worried about that. He was too sceptical, probably. Definitely. Right? His parents had just messed him up with their fear of evil governments and imprisonment. "I... Why don't give me a quick run down already? How many are there, what styles do you want? A story you want their looks to tell?"

There were eight in Felix' responsibilty, Ali learned, eight of the so-called Romantics, various genders, various ethnical backgrounds, various stories to tell. The girl next door, the buff teddy bear, the quiet enigma, the dirty little secret, the soft dreamer, the confident performer, the spoiled princess, the devoted servant. Ali didn't dare ask, how the roles were assigned. How the people they'd been before were moulded into these shapes. It all had happened before. They signed up for it. Felix just did the sales part. And Ali just styled them. It wasn't as if his real life clients didn't come to him with stories just like these as well. Just yesterday one of hie regulars had requested to be styled like "Sin itself". This was just another job, one that challenged him in the best ways, one that paid extraordinilarily well - and one that would do a favor to the man he'd love to call his boyfriend some day. A great chance, that's what this was. Nothing less, nothing more.

Felix introduced him to the pets, one by one. They weren't supposed to be in the room together, he explained, only with clients present. Having them bond, to influence each other, would mess with their carefully calibrated training. Ali didn't try to understand that; these intricacies of Felix' job didn't need to bother him.

All of the pets that sat down in the chair in front of him shared an extraordinary beauty. All shared a quiet obedience, and the same set of mannerisms. And all of them flirted with Felix, who just replied with a generous smile. This was the one thing that did bother Ali. But then again, when Felix looked away from them, and at Ali, to give some quiet pointers at what to do, Felix' smile shifted into another one, a more private, cheeky, honest one. These were pets. Ali was a person. It wasn't the same.

"That's Noor," Felix said, when he brought over the last one, a slim man with long black hair an almost ethereal elegance to his movements. He was pierced in his lip and eyebrow, and as easily to see through his fishnet top, also elsewhere on his body. Ali found himself wonder, if that was all of it. Then, if that was exactly what he was meant to wonder about. He inhaled softly, counted to ten, hoping to banish the faint blush creeping up in his cheeks. Or the thought, of how well Felix would know the answer to that.

"Good morning, Mister Ali," Noor said softly.

"Noor?" Ali raised a brow. "A Persian name?"

"He got here right after I met you." Felix smiled. "Couldn't stop thinking about you. So I named him in your honor."

"That's-" Ali frowned. Creepy, a part of his mind whispered. Sweet, another part insisted. "Special," he settled.

Noor slid into the chair in front of him, gaze cast down, not meeting Ali's in the mirror. What had Felix said in that first night? About one of his so called "cars"? Totalled, by a client. Had to be replaced. Noor must've been the replacement. How long would he make it, then? How long the others? Ali swallowed, reached for Noor's long hair instead, letting his hands run through them carefully. It was beautiful, smooth and heavy and soothing. Could need a little more conditioner, maybe. Better care for the tips.

"Noor's the dirty little secret," Felix said, almost affectionate. "I want his hair open, shining, but in a way that makes you want to grab it, pull him around by it, you know?"

Ali wasn't sure if it was the request that made him shiver, or the way he exactly knew the feeling Felix described.

"I do", he said, his voice cracking a little. "I can do that. I'll wash his hair first, add a little treatment."

Felix nodded. "He's been good. You can be gentle."

He'd been like that before, too. Advised Ali, on how gentle to be, as if the hair styling was a part of a regimen of rewards and punishment.

Ali had mostly ignored it. He was always gentle. It would make him a horrible hairdresser, not to take care of the people- humans- beings, in the chair in front of him.

"Sure," he said anyways, and gestured Noor over to the washing basin. He checked the water temperature himself - he'd learned already at pet number three, that they'd say the temperature was fine with perfectly content smiles and soft voices, regardless if it was scalding or freezing. "You good?", he asked, still, mostly from habit.

Noor hummed in reply, a soft, peaceful noise, as Ali gently started massaging his scalp under the warm water.

Ali looked up at Felix, leaning in the door with his arms crossed, watching them with a soft smile. "He's enjoying it," he observed. "I'd love to switch places."

"Later," Ali said.

Noor's shoulders seemed to relax, his breath slowing, as Ali's fingers deftly worked his temples. He wondered quietly, how often the pets received something like that. A reward like that. And what it was for. What being good might encompass.

"You look good together," Felix said. "My favorite pet. And my... favorite person."

"Shush", Ali hissed, unable to hide the blush in his cheeks. "We're working."

"He's asleep." Felix nodded at Noor. "You're doing wonders on him. And it's good. He needs to relax anyway. I'm not meant to do favorites of course, but he is the best of them. I bet he'll be chosen today."

"Quiet," Ali muttered. His favorite person. He hadn't expected how nervous these words would made him feel. "I can't focus."

"I find it hard, too." Felix winked. "I'll think about this picture all day."

Ali reached for the conditioner and decidedly stared down onto Noor's beautiful, ink black hair, determined not to let Felix' words overwhelm him.

Thankfully, Felix did vanish shortly after, probably doing whatever else he needed to prepare for the evening, and Ali could focus on his job.

Felix returned, just as Ali finished blow drying Noor's hair. The pet looked stunning - of course he did. Ali was good at his job, after all. He worked out some strands, artfully twisting them, before he spun the chair towards Felix. "What do you think?"

"Stunning," Felix said, gaze more on Ali than on his model. "There's just something missing, for that freshly fucked look I was going for."

Ali frowned, ready to lash out against that criticism, but Felix was faster, looking at Noor now.

"Noor, dear, do you like what my friend did?"

"Yes, Felix." For the first time, Noor did look up at Ali in the mirror, a shy smile dancing on his pierced lip. "He was very nice."

"I think so, too. And I think you should thank him properly, don't you?"

Noor nodded, and before Ali could properly react to the innuendo, even make sense of what he wanted, his mind lost somewhere between Noor's smile and Felix' voice, the pet swung himself over the chairs armrest and dropped on his knees in front of Ali, looking up at him from deep brown eyes. His teeth played with the piercing in his lower lip, and there was a small dimple in one cheek, when he smiled.

Ali was dizzy. "I-- I don't think-"

"I can't tip you as you deserve, this is a company invoice after all," Felix said. "But I - we - can make you feel good anyway. Believe me. Noor will blow your mind." He smirked. "Literally."

"I- I styled his hair, but-" Ali wanted this. He didn't want it. His pants were awfully tight suddenly, his mind blank. Fuck. He should've been prepared, right? Had he been? Did he want this? He wondered how that piercing would feel.

"I respect if you don't want it, of course, I do, I just thought..." Felix voice was soft. "My boyfriend deserves some relaxation, too."

There was a soft touch between his legs, a hand moving over to his zipper. Ali didn't fight it. Boyfriend. Felix called him his boyfriend. And he wanted him to feel good. Noor wanted it, too. And fuck, if Ali's body wasn't craving it as well.

Felix smiled and stepped in.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Ali asked, huskily, as he felt his pants pulled down, and soft lips wander down his hips.

"If you want to be?"

Ali nodded, unable to speak, and Felix's lips found his just in time for Felix' mouth to absorb the little whimper escaping him when Noor took him in.

"I love you," Felix breathed into their kiss, and whatever Ali's treachereous mind had been whispering was blown away entirely.

#bbu #bbu romantic #noncon implied #dubcon implied #handler felix kane #noor the romantic #pet safety series

[imyourjettt]

Blame it on the Alcohol

Pairing: Phillip Graves x f!Reader

Word Count: 838

Warnings: Drinking alcohol, sexual tension, implied sexual content

Summary: You've been working hard to keep developing your relationship with Phillip Graves. It's been a few weeks since you got to hang out and see each other. Finally when you both are free, he invites you over and you bring alcohol. Is the rest of the night your real actions, or just the alcohol talking?

As soon as you stepped into Phillip Graves territory two soldiers step into view. 

"We will escort you to Commander Graves. Please follow us, this way." one of them says. They soon turn away from you and walk, you quickly follow behind. His base was pretty big, you admired it most of the time. Mostly all of the guards were inside, since it was pretty much midnight. Technically you were meant to be there a few hours ago, but something came up. After around five minutes of walking and sightseeing you finally got to his personal headquarters. You and the two guards make your way up to his door, as one of the guards was about to knock, Graves' opened the door. 

He makes direct eye contact with you first, then his guards. He nods to the guards giving them the order to leave, then his eyes make their way back to yours. 

“Sorry I’m late.” you smiled as you held up the bottle of whisky.

He motioned you to come in, "No worries, doll." 

As you walked past him, all you could smell was the cologne he used often. You loved the smell so much, and out of the corner of your eye you saw him smirking at you. Your face starts to heat up, and you haven't even started drinking yet. You always loved hanging out with Graves (even if you didn’t get to drink). You both walked over to the kitchen, you set down the whisky and went to grab two glass cups. His eyes practically burned into your back, he was watching your ever move, almost memorized by you. 

Ignoring it you spoke, “How’s everything going? I haven’t been able to get over here for a few weeks.” 

He signed, and sucked his teeth. “Yeah it’s been pretty… hectic. 141 has been able to help a lot." He took a small pause before continuing, "Glad you’re here."

You hummed in response, handing the whisky filled glass over to him.

“Cheers” you both said.

You’ve always took an interest in Graves. Mostly everyone around you knew about it. You would always take the time to hang out whenever you could. The crush developed over time, but Graves was the type of person to like the chase. You couldn’t give in that early, so you waited. However the tension was killing you, you were already rethinking coming over here.

The silence went on for a few minutes, while you kept pouring more drinks. You glanced over at him taking a sip, watching his adam’s apple, and some of the whiskey dripping down from his mouth. He had to be doing this on purpose, you thought. He locks eyes with you, when you didn’t look away he tensed and sucked in a breath. Seeing the effect you already had on him it made you hot all of sudden. But you decided to blame it on the alcohol.

Not realizing how close he had gotten you lock eyes with him.

“Baby.” Graves chokes out.

He called you pet names often but this time was completely different. He reaches out and brushes his thumb against your cheek, and slowly against your lips. You stilled, keeping your eyes on his. His hand ventured to your neck, slowly pulling you closer to him. You stare at him, flickering between his eyes and his lips. If he was finally making the first move, then you could indulge yourself in it.

Just as soon as you were about to complete his kiss, a loud crash stops both of you in your tracks. You look down to reveal his glass cup broken on the floor, with the little whisky that was left all over his shirt. You panic. Cursing at yourself for messing up the moment you’ve been practically begging for. Rushing, you grab a towel to clean his shirt off and the mess. You could feel his eyes on you the whole time, which only increased the embarrassment.

“Sorry, it was my fault- the alcohols' already getting to me.” Which was a totally lie, you weren’t that much of a light weight and he knew that. You scrubbed at his shirt trying to at least dry it. He stopped you in your tracks carefully grabbing your wrist, setting down the towel. He pulls your arm up bringing you closer to him. His face was so close, your lips almost touching,

“Sure. Blame it on the alcohol.” he says against your lips, then leans into you completing the kiss. The kiss was hungry, he missed you so much, almost begged for you as he repeated your name between each breath.

Your hands moved to his neck then up through his hair. While he held your neck, he broke the kiss to admire you.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for awhile now.” He said.

You smiled up at him, “Yeah me too.”

As he smiled the dimple that you loved about him showed up. It quickly disappeared as he went back to kiss you more.

#cod mw2 #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you #call of duty #cod fanfic

[klapollo]

So I had no idea who Andrew Dobson is and I ended up doing a deep dive that totally wasn’t about procrastinating my essay and jfc that one person with a blog dedicated to him needs a life. But I’m really confused about the whole thing. Cause some of the stuff they were mentioning did seem like real dick moves on his side but then next thing they’re actually criticising him for being anti-trump and… like is he a bad guy for the way he acted towards women occasionally or is he a bad guy cause he hates a rampant misogynist???

basically people hate(d) him because he was a bit of a jagoff who was kinda high on his own supply back when deviantart was really big -- he was sizably popular there as Tom Preston, and there used to be a pretty big cottage industry of deviantart celebrity "lolcows" with any decently sized following. most of the first lolcows (i hate this term lol) i was cognizant of as a youth were from deviantart. most of these people were also basically harmless, just "cringe," which is also where i'd put dobson. he was pretty obstinate and didnt take criticism well, especially early on. that + his more liberal beliefs made him an easy target.

the thing is it spiraled way out of control, and it got to a point where he was at the center of a nonstop surveillance and harassment cycle. it was typical lolcow troll methods -- he would continue his existing work and it'd be instantly posted to the chans or whatever for mockery, or he'd start a new venture and it'd die in the womb due to this hate following. a few years ago he just stopped posting entirely, which honestly is not surprising. he was clearly very paranoid, depressed and suicidal, which i probably would have been in his situation, and most lolcows naturally end up being.

and the thing is like.......people are still obsessed with him. which is incredibly bizarre because he's gone and has been gone for years, but also because his offenses are incredibly banal. oh wow a nerdy webcomic artist who came up on the early internet is smug and opinionated, call the FBI. as with most lolcows i think dobson's life story would be significantly more mundane if not for the fact that a contingent of weirdos became obsessed with him. and as with most lolcows as well, they project fiercely -- insistent that HE'S the weird one when he logged off ages ago and they STILL talk about him (even here -- there's like two active andrew dobson stalker diaries i think lol)

i would say the most morally dubious thing he did was draw like, inflation art of some of the azumanga daioh characters once? which that could have been as long as 20+ years ago and idek how young he would have been then. and let's be real they dont care about morals they just hate him bc he's Cringe. call is coming from inside the house etc

#long post #andrew dobson bloggers Please Log Off im begging you

[dovelydraws]

If you don't mind me asking,

What's art styles ended up influencing .. Well your art style?

Oh, this is a fun question, thank you for asking!

Hmm, I think it's a little hard to say since I've been drawing since I was basically a toddler, lol. Every little thing I've ever enjoyed has had some sort of influence. I'll try to go through the timeline though.

When I was a little kid, I had a special interest in zoology (still do! but it's not as obvious as it was back then.) I used to wake up first in the house specifically so I could turn on the tv to the animal planet channel and just watch documentaries all morning, and I carried a giant animal kingdom encyclopedia with me to school every day to just flip to random pages and read whatever popped up. During this time of my life, I pretty much exclusively drew animals- particularly elephants, canines, and horses. I had no interest in people.

I had no real interest in stylization at this point- obviously as a little kid I was never able to achieve perfect anatomy or anything like that, but I was more interested in making my animals look real than cartoonish- which meant I was never really influenced by the disney movies I was watching, since they stylized their animals so heavily.

I remember the dreamworks movie Spirit held my attention for a very long time, and I think it may particularly have been that way because the horses looked and acted more real than they did in disney movies. They were still stylized of course, it was a cartoon after all, but it wasn't to any extremes. I still find myself wanting to mimic that in my animals now; cartoon, but not cartoon-y.

I think these two gifs help illustrate my point lol.

After this exclusive animal obsession (followed by dinosaurs, and then dragons) I got really into Sonic the Hedgehog around age 11. Drew sonic characters, and made my own OCs for it, for basically the entirety of middle school. I've pointed out in the past that it seems the way I draw hands was heavily influenced by this phase

Very round, almost rubbery, where the ends of the fingers tend to flare out a little bigger than they are at the knuckles.

Then after sonic, I got into my first anime, Soul Eater, and this is really where I first started venturing into drawing people and more realistic human anatomy.

Interestingly, this artstyle seemed to also do the Sonic Hands thing, lol

After this I had a big anime phase, as well as just a general "I want to study actual human anatomy" phase during early high school. I was following a lot of skeletal/muscular system tutorials during this time.

Following that I started getting back into american media, in particular I remember invader zim, steven universe, and tmnt 2k12. I'm not sure I can really tell myself where the steven u artstyle is present in my own, but I've had people tell me they can tell I was into it at some point after saying so.

Then there was the Rubberhose Boom of 2017, with the release of Cuphead and BATIM very close together; I had a big hyperfixation on that artstyle specifically at that time, and I feel like I may owe some of the loose-ness in my artstyle to that.

Then, I suppose, we come to Rise of the TMNT. That show ended up being a major inspiration to me, and I think I owe a LOT of recent artistic growth to it. Rise pushed me out of my comfort zone big time. I always liked doing dynamic poses, but rise encouraged me to push things further, and I started drawing more backgrounds and making bolder color choices because of it as well.

I think my artstyle became just a bit more angular after drawing so much fanart as well.

And I suppose that's where I'm now at presently! Aside from media, I also can't say I'd be where I am artistically today without the influence and support of my many friends. :) I owe a lot of things about my artstyle, particularly specific things like my lineart, to compliments my friends paid me which made me pay more attention to the things I was doing accidentally that they happened to like, then making it purposeful and more refined as a result.

#asks #long post #this was really fun to think about :)

[heuhuewaves]

show me how|chapter 10

Content warnings: brief smut, cursing, angst(??)

Word count: 2.5K

Song for this chapter: Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey

Song link: https://open.spotify.com/track/4jZWeEaLCnwYtLnVEN6BYV?si=34fe3c001a884db0

March 18th, 2022

It was currently 5:15 in the morning. 2 hours before school started. What you and Billy were doing up this early, fucking for that matter, was beyond you. Billy had miraculously convinced your parents to let him sleep over. Which meant a lot of sex between the both of you. You guys had went at it at least 2 times the night before. Billy’s stamina was pretty impressive. His hand was currently covering your mouth, preventing the escape of any moans. All that left your lips was tiny whimpers that engulfed the inside of Hargrove’s palm. 10 minutes went by and the both of you ended up finishing, laying beside each other as you removed yourself from Billy’s length.

You turned over to your bedside table and checked your phone for the time. 5:25. You began to scroll through your phone since you still had a good chunk of time until you had to get ready. Billy turned over to you and stared, a smile plastered on his face.

“I mean, I’m always down for another round.” 

You laughed quietly as you punched Billy in the arm. “What has you so horny lately?” You questioned.

“Is it so bad to say that I missed you? It had been awhile since we last did it. Don’t even get me started on your body-” Billy cut himself off as he rushed a hand down your stomach. You swatted his advances away. 

“Tempting, but we literally have to be at school in less than 2 hours. Also, don’t forget you’re the one who’s giving us a ride.” You reminded him as you rolled out of your bed and began to start your morning routine. Billy continued to lay on the bed. He looked out your bedroom window and onto the empty street below. The faint sound of water running came from the bathroom. You were showering. Billy’s thoughts went right back to you.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You were sat down in your 2nd period class. English always bored you. Being in honors English made it more unbearable. It was always the same to you. Sit down, read a book that didn’t make any sense, write multiple paragraphs on concepts you didn’t understand. You just couldn’t wait to get out of Hawkins. This town was not made for someone like you. Or Billy for that matter. 2 big city, sun kissed skin kids stuck in a pale, boring, sad town. 

You and Billy had been planning to go back to your home state as soon as the school year was over. The 2 of you had been saving up money for months. It was enough to at least get a 1 bedroom once you got out there. 

Your daydreaming about a different life came to a halt as the bell rung, signaling it was time for you to make your way to the next class. You slung your back pack around your shoulders and made your way into the crowded halls. There was no chance of you being able to see billy as his class was on the opposite side of the building. Venturing it alone wasn’t all to bad. Gave you a lot of time to think and people watch. It was a relatively short commute from English to History. On your way you spotted Steve. His pair of eyes immediately caught yours and he gave you a sympathetic stare. You were puzzled. Even from his body language alone you could tell that he was less tense. You took this as a hopeful sign.

The rest of the first half of the day went by per usual. It was Finally lunch time. You made your way to Billy’s car where you usually met him. 

You opened the door that led into the parking lot. Billy immediately spotted you and smiled. You made your way over to the Camaro as he eyed you up and down, a smirk on his face.

“You look sexy.” He said.

“You literally saw me get dressed this morning.” You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Billy looked up and saw Steve staring at the both of you. He was sitting by himself on a bench.

“The fuck is he looking at?” The sudden hostile energy caught your attention and looked up to see what the commotion was. Billy was looking at Steve. Oh fuck.

“Billy, no. You’re not gonna start anything again. I don’t need you beating anyone’s ass today.” Your orders were followed. Billy was silent. All he could do was give Steve the death glare. Both of you hopped into the Camaro and sped out of the parking lot to satisfy your hunger.

You and Billy decided to go back to his house for lunch. Nobody was home and being alone together sounded like an amazing idea. As the two of you entered the home Billy threw you onto the couch and began to make out with you. The feeling was reciprocated and you gave into the kiss. It was brief but passionate. He pulled away and stared at you.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” All you did was smile back at him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before getting up from the couch.

“Do you have anything to eat?” You asked as you started to head towards the kitchen.

“Probably left over pizza again. You know Neil’s dead-beat ass doesn’t make food.” Billy remarked as he scrolled on his phone. You were met with that very sight. A Tupperware container full of pepperoni pizza. You got the both of you 2 slices and heated them up in the microwave. Billy began to make his way over to the kitchen.

“I’ve noticed Harrington staring at you a lot lately. He’s gotten quiet too. Wonder if I need to beat his ass again.” Billy spoke out. You looked at him with the “really? this again?” face.

“Billy we’ve been over this. Multiple times. Even earlier today. You can’t just keep fighting him. Why do you guys even do this to each other?” You questioned. Now that you thought about it, Neither Billy or Steve elaborated on why they loathed each other. You just knew as soon as you came here, they despised one another.

“Couldn’t tell you. It’s always been like this.” Billy said, almost laughing. He had the most smug look on his face. It’s like he had no regret for his actions. You were fed up. Sick and tired of this meaningless feud that was going on between the two boys. 

“I’m serious. How can you be so nonchalant about this? Your obsession with ruining Steve’s life is insane.” You spoke, your temper rising.

“Obsession? Where did that even come from. You’re not even making sense.” Billy’s temper was rising as well. 

You grabbed your phone and backpack as you headed out the front door. “I’m leaving.” 

“The fuck? Cmon’ Y/N you’re being dramatic.” Billy remarked.

“No I’m not. I’m sick and tired of hearing about this beef between the both of you that isn’t even going to matter in two months when we graduate.” You were moments away from stepping outside.

“Well how do you even plan on getting back to school?” Hargrove questioned.

“I’ll walk.”

“No you won’t.”

You took one last look at Billy, slammed the door, and stormed off. The house was now empty. Billy was there all alone. His mind was eating at him. Not only because he had disappointed you, but You were right. This obsession with belittling Steve, making his life a living hell, What was it for? How did it come about? Not even Billy could tell. He made his way to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. A loud scream followed. This was the rare occasion that he hated his reflection.

The transitional air of march hit your face as you walked down the sidewalks of Hawkins. Not too cold and not hot enough. You didn’t understand the fighting between Steve and Billy. Everyone you asked about didn’t have a concrete answer. “So did this shit just pop up out of thin air?” you thought. Part of you wish you hadn’t blown up at Billy. He lived 10 minutes from the school. Meaning the walk was gonna be at least 30 minutes. You knew this walk would be miserable. But, you knew he had to here it at some point. There was no point in both of the boys to fight anymore. Especially with graduation right around the corner.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Lunch had already ended. It was at least 20 minutes into the next class period. Billy didn’t care though. He had just now pulled out of the driveway and started his commute. He sulked in his seat as Nirvana blasted on his radio. If it was completely up to him, He would’ve just stayed home and smoked weed for the remainder of the day. But you made him realize that he needed to let this childish year long dispute to rest.

He pulled into the Hawkin’s High parking lot and turned off his car. He sat there for a second, scrambling for the right words to say. It soon came to him. He got out of his car and made his way over to the school building. Billy honestly thought that it was gonna take a while to find Steve. But alas, There he was, Sitting on a bench alone writing in a notebook. It was good to know Billy wasn’t the only one who planned on skipping class. Hargrove approached him.

“Billy, please, not right now.” Was all Steve said, his eyes never leaving the notebook. The mullet haired boy was taken back. He had put his hands on Steve so many times that it made him weak. Defenseless. He didn’t even wanna fight anymore.

Billy scratched the back of his head. “I’m not here to start shit. Quite the opposite actually.” Steve’s head was kept down on the paper. He wasn’t convinced. Billy sighed. “Look-” He took a seat besides the darker haired boy. “See, I’m not trying to fight you.” Steve’s guard was noticeably dropped and he finally took his eyes off of what he had been writing. 

“So?”

“This rivalry between us, we have to stop. It's torn up your friendship with Y/N and it’s starting to effect my relationship with them.” Steve was taken back. He never thought that this day would come. The day where both sides of this war would draw their weapons. It was almost too weird.

“You’ve got to be pulling some shit with me. I’m not stupid Hargrove.” Steve remarked.

“I’m not. I promise you. I just want Y/N to be happy. I really care about them and I’ve seen how your guys’ friendship becoming almost non existent has effected them. It sucks. They want you back in their life so bad. I don’t want Y/N to be unhappy without you anymore.” Billy confessed. It became real to Harrington now. This was in fact, not a joke. Billy was actually trying to drop this cliche high school rivalry. Steve didn’t realize how defeated Billy looked. It almost looked like he was going to break down and cry.

Steve thought for a moment. About how this whole situation had taken a toll on him as well. He started skipping class so he wouldn’t have to see Billy. His grades were dropping. He lost all his motivation in general. Most importantly, he missed Y/N. 

“We both care about the same thing. Y/N. I want them to be as happy as you do. If that means we need to mature and be civil in order to make that happen, then I’m all for it.” Steve agreed. A sign of relief washed over Billy. “I appreciate you doing this though. Don’t tell me you’re about to mature Hargrove.”

Billy smiled back. “Who said that?” He got up from the bench and stood over Steve. “Wanna smoke? As a sign of new beginnings,.. or some shit.”

Steve shrugged. “Lead the way.” He said as he got up from the bench and followed Billy back to his car.

You were sat up in your bedroom typing out the last of your college admission essay. UCLA was your goal. It was convenient for you and Billy. Two kids wanting to go back to the ‘golden state’ and start a new life.

You hadn’t spoken to Billy at all since lunch. In all honesty, You weren’t sure of what to say. Everything that needed to be said was spoken. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel guilty. You hadn’t blown up at him like that in a long time. You could text him right now if you wanted. Facetime him even. But the courage was not in your system right now. The best option in your mind was too let this all blow over and talk to him tomorrow.

A sudden flurry of knocks came from your bedroom window and startled you. You automatically knew who it was. You made your way over to the window and opened it up. It was Billy on the top of the trellis that sat outside your room. He held up a decent wad of cash.

“Billy. Who the fuck did you rob?” You asked, concerned for the boy.

“Neil.”

You gave him a look that was similar to what a mother would give to her child when they disappointed her. “You know what he’s gonna do once he finds out.”

Billy finally made his way through the window and was now standing in your bedroom. “He’s too drunk off his ass to notice.” He took your hand and sat the both of you down on your bed. “Listen I have shit I need to say. You were right. The way I was acting with Steve ruined your friendship with him. What you told me earlier made me realize that I need to let this shit go. Especially since we won’t even be in this town in 2 months. I’m sorry baby.” He expressed his regret.

You kissed him on his cheek and smiled. “The fact that you did all this self-change for me is so sexy. I love you Billy.”

“I love you too Y/N.” Once the awkwardness in the room passed, Billy held up the cash again. “Now what do we do with this?”

“Food and the arcade?”

“Wow, look at you. Spending stolen cash like a criminal.” Billy spoke sarcastically. “Also, I thought you were all about being mature?”

“If you’re doing self-change then I can too. It’s time to be more free.”

Billy smirked. “Never thought I would see this side of you Y/N. It’s hot.” He pulled you in for a short but heated kiss. “Race you to my car.” Both of you shot up from your bed and raced down the stairs, then out the door where you quickly grabbed your shoes. The race continued down the driveway. You touched the door first.

“I win.” You grinned. Billy mirrored the same gesture back at you. Both of you jumped into the Camaro and sped off. Into the dark streets of Hawkins and off to wherever the night brought to the both of you.

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

@flvneurss @this-gave-pidge-further-shock @zzokks @xuckduck @aworm-onastring  @kaylee444  @lily-sinclair-2006 @tagakalat @sunshinee0-0​  @overthewhiteclouds​ @loadivine​ @mxltifxnd0m​ @queenofstarsanddarkness @youcantbesirius​ @offical-bee​ @m-rae23​ @hqtetsurou @mushy-mushroom04​ @tayhar811​ @mvrylee​

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove series #billy hargrove angst #modern billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #alternate universe #Modern!AU #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader

[warwickroyals]

queen rosalyn was mentioned in a recent post, so: can you give us any lore about her, her family, and how they managed to marry into sunderland royalty? if louisa had ended up queen, do you think she would have resisted and opposed rosalyn's politics once she reached majority?

This is actually a very helpful question, anon! Thank you for not getting mad since I took forever to answer <3

Uh, under the cut is a shit ton about the American Civil War and that means talk about slavery, so read at your own risk.

So, Rosalyn as I've made it clear was a Daughter of the Confederacy, like, a literal OG one a la Varina Anne Davis, born and raised on a plantation in South Carolina during a very contentious time. She had a very charmed childhood (like completely obvious to the horrors of slavery and raised as a true Southern Belle), but everything she loved became threatened by the inevitable Civil War and what she saw as the threat of Northern aggression.

Rosalyn in my head has always been similar to Scarlett O'Hara (Vivian Leigh's character from Gone With the Wind), she was absolutely stunning, at least appearance-wise. Sunderland and the USA are right next to each other, so it was typical for Sunderlandian royals to venture into the USA for both political and social reasons. I'd like to imagine that Rosalyn met her future husband Louis at a ball in Maryland.

Now, Louis IV, as I've mentioned before, assumed the throne at 15 years old and was of a rather weak constitution. Due to his poor health, he was used to being babied and pretty much always got what he wanted. So, giving this kid basically absolute power was bound to cause issues. For Louis, it was love at first sight and Rosalyn's family, realizing Louis's position, urged her to pursue him. They had a whirlwind Romeo & Juliet-style romance, heavily manipulated by the Southern planter class, who correctly predicted international opinion turning against slavery, and wanted to ensure Sunderland would remain at the very least neutral during a Civil War. There was no better way to promote their interests than a puppet Confederate queen who had a king wrapped around her fingers.

Basically everyone in Louis's inner circle begged him not to marry Rosalyn: Parliament, family, friends, etc. But Louis married her anyway, Sunderland lacked the proper checks and balances to prevent it (they'd fix this later). People were outraged and opinions about Queen Rosalyn ranged from dismissive to downright murderous. In Sunderland, she became a scapegoat for the coming war in America. The more things worsened in America, the more she was resented. The whole nation held its breath when she became pregnant in 1859, and rejoiced when the child turned out to be a girl.

Sunderland really lucked out with Louis's early death. For one thing, he died before the Civil War started and for another, he died before he could father a son with Rosalyn. Both prevented Rosalyn from really doing any damage or having any institutional power to promote Confederate interests. She had been Queen for just under three years. She fled Sunderland with her infant daughter mere weeks after Louis died, fearing for her life. The new king, Louis's cousin George, was fully intending to make an example of Rosalyn and Louisa if they came in the way of his accession, so it was a smart move.

However, the home Rosalyn returned to wasn't the same. Several of her brothers died during the Civil War, and Big Dick William Tecumseh Sherman marched his soldiers straight across South Carolina, destroying any plantations in his path. Suffice it to say, Rosalyn kind of lost it after that, she never recovered and became a recluse until her death.

As for Louisa, she was referred to by Southerners as the Queen of Sunderland for most of her life, but it was more sarcastically than with any real deference. She never attempted to take back her birthright and actually signalled her loyalty to King George several times. George, as a result, left her to live her life in the USA. The cousins were even on friendly terms until Louisa's death.

Lousia was still raised in the South and her mother probably spoon-fed her a wrapped education based on the pro-South Lost Cause narrative (Here's an amazing video about what that means, but it's basically the myth that the Civil War was not centred on slavery, like, "States Rights" and all that BS), but Louisa rejected appeals to becoming a spokesperson for Neo-Confederate groups. She was a very private person and valued a life out of the spotlight.

Now, had she become queen she would have almost certainly been separated from her mother and raised by the State with George serving as regent until she reached adulthood. Rosalyn would have had little power to do anything about it. There was no chance of Louisa being a Confederate sympathizer without getting assassinated. Plus, after the Civil War, there was no Confederate States to represent anyway.

#warwick.answers #anonymous

[wandaluvstacos]

Chapter 44 of Good Investment is now up on my Patreon!

Good Investment is available at the $5/month tier. People who pledge $5 a month have access to not only Good Investment but The Sponsors series (ongoing), Pretty Things (complete), May the Blood Run Pure (complete), and Kept Man (complete), along with the $1/month tier books, the Reflections trilogy (ongoing) and The Halfwife (ongoing).

Adri Schvaneveldt has always felt split between two worlds. In one world, they are the adopted child of a large and conservative Mormon family. In another, she is the CEO of a burgeoning fashion empire that pushes boundaries. But in order to be the latter, Adri first has to find the funding. After gaining a hefty following as a social media influencer/model, Adri has the potential customers– if they can get a reliable production model pounded out. And that means a bit of groveling at the feet of investors, most of who have never even heard the term “non-binary”.

But Adri lucks out with Gideon Snow, whose youth and open mind bring much needed funds to make Adri’s dream of diverse, accessible fashion a reality. Of course, lifting a newborn company to its feet is no small task, and late nights drive Adri to occasional stays at Gideon’s nearby house, where their relationship begins stretching beyond business. Adri knows they can’t put an entire business venture at risk for the turbulent whims of their heart. But reason doesn’t always win out.

Excerpt:

   “Well, she was very upset when she spoke to me—crying, even. She wanted me to call you and ‘talk sense to you’. Those were her words. I mentioned to her that I had met you and Adri at Solitude and then that got her all worked up again. She thinks I’m keeping secrets from her.”

            “Huh, wonder why you would do that,” Gideon muttered. “Do you think she’s told the rest of the family?”

            “She’s told Dad. When they were over for dinner and to see the kids, he was very grumpy and snippy with Mom. You know how he gets.”

            Gideon could imagine. God, he was so glad he didn’t live in Utah anymore. He had to give his sister credit for being willing to put up with it. She had kids, so it made sense she wanted their grandparents in the picture. Gideon often wondered if he was justified for avoiding them. They’d been decent parents to grow up with, and they’d supported him financially when he was abroad in Europe doing dumb shit. His father had loaned him money to start the business whose sale now gave Gideon his early retirement. He wouldn’t be here without them. And yet, the minute he’d graduated high school, he’d never looked back. Only after he’d partied his way through a few years abroad did he realize that hey, maybe he’d been a little fucked up by his upbringing. When he would rather be hungover and penniless on some Belgian pothead’s couch than in his parents’ big gorgeous house at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains, maybe his childhood wasn’t as idyllic as he liked to believe. It was hard to explain why there was such resentment in him. Only Adri and a few others seemed to get it.

            “What do you want me to tell Mom?” Ada asked when Gideon didn’t respond for a moment.

            “Tell her that I’m not speaking to anyone unless they are willing to respect me and my partner.”

            “What would that entail?”

            “It would mean not calling Adri a man, or using him pronouns. That’s probably the baseline. They can call me gay if they want; I really don’t care. It’s Adri I’m a stickler about.”

              “I don’t think Mom will do that.”  

            “Then we have nothing to discuss.”

            “Gideon…” Ada sighed again. “She’s our mom. You can’t just not talk to her.”

            “Sure I can. Watch me.”

#Good Investment #original fiction #patreon #update #excerpt #my writing

[j-ellyfish]

on the topic of hetalia outside of the actual show/manga, can you attest to feeling ostracized for liking it? i’ve liked it for well over a decade, and any attempts to bring it up with friends and i just get laughed at or told it’s problematic. i have actually never known anyone who has liked it either, and i really wish i did because i feel like it’d be so much more fun with others. but now it’s just this super cringe/shameful/problematic thing. well, it’s kind of always been thought of that way, and i’m not forgetting how some of the very early content was a bit tasteless, but the vast majority of hetalia is pretty tame.

i’m so glad for the fandom but i feel like i never hear about it outside of that. sorry this turned into a bit of a vent, but i feel so weird that i have to hide my interest in it so i’m not ridiculed for a lighthearted comic. i think a lot of other early 2010s fandoms get the same treatment ofc, it reminds people of their embarassing teen years. but i am too old to want to give a shit anymore lol.

are we just hiding in plain sight everywhere? kinda funny to think about

Yes, definitely. As a premise, I think I am in a bit of a weird position where I don't feel super at ease in manga/anime communities in the first place because it's actually very, very rare for me to like one. So I feel kinda like an imposter, haha. As a kid, I loved the anime they would air on TV and I especially loved the art styles, which is why I started to try and imitate them when I drew (I have drawings I made at 5-6 where some rudimental anime features were already visible, most notably inspired by the Pokémon anime). I am very easy to drop any anime or manga I try, so it really requires for all the stars and planets to align for me to actually stick to one and obsess over it :'D

For this reason, I don't really have any friend irl who shares this interest with me, and my 'nerd online presence' only rarely breaks out of the 'fandom enclosures' I live in. Though, especially in the past, I did venture more often out of my circles and had confrontations with, well, the average anime/manga fan.

I remember back when I first got into Hetalia, I saw this video some jerk took at a Con where he'd go around asking cosplayers/fans questions related to the anime/manga they liked to see if they were 'good fans' or not. I felt like the Hetalia cosplayers they found were treated the worst. First of all, they were asked history questions which is a bit tricky and unfair in the first place, because it's like going up to a Dragonball fan and ask him about Wu Cheng'en's Journey To The West rather than about Dragonball's actual content. The interviewers also had this lowkey sexist aura to them like those girls, being girls, had to prove themselves smart enough despite being basically 'hopeless fujoshis' (you know, in the original offensive and sexist meaning of 'rotten girls'). Even in the comments, those poor girls were definitely made fun of and criticized more than anyone else in the video, and it was clear as the sun that the reason was the underlying sexism that permeates the mind of many cishet male anime/manga fans when it comes to shows that have an important chunk of female audience, treating us as shallow and stupid for shipping characters or thirsting over a male character (yet they do at least twice as bad with the average big tittied dere). This was, I think 2011 or 2012, and sure those Hetalia cosplayers not answering correctly a very easy history question didn't make them look good but fuck, they were there to have a good time with their friends, they weren't at school and I can only imagine the anxiety they felt at being questioned about their history knowledge simply for deciding to go around at a con with a fake curl on their wig and wearing a cheap mockup military uniform.

The saddest thing, though, is that way too many girls also used to (probably still do) shit on it based on the fact that it has a predominantly male cast and homoerotic undertones (this kind of girl also tends to shit on BL as a genre and stuff a-la-Free! simply for being aimed at a female audience, and on the other hand they seem to only engage in series full of objectified girls. I don't understand them, it feels like internalized mysogyny or pick-me-girl mentality to me). I will show here (translated) some lines from a couple Italian negative reviews Hetalia got. These are all likely from 2009~2012 because I have looked at that page a lot since the beginning and those reviews were already there:

[Male User] [...] What's the point of making yaoi-worthy protagonists if the audience of this show will clearly be male? It's about world wars metaphors and nationalism, come on! I highly doubt the female audience for this thing is wide. [Female User] [...] You'll wonder: how come such a thing got so many fans? The answer is easy: fanservice! The sole goal of Hetalia is to create thousands of cheapish bishounen ready to be piled up and bred in the perverted fantasies of yaoi-thirsty fangirlies! That's the point. It's 50-something male characters with endless fanfiction-worthy distasteful ships, created merely to make money. [...] Do you get it, the reason behind this success is the minds of thousands mentally ill little girls who love YAOI and fantasize about it. [...]

When I initially switched fandom from Pokémon to Hetalia, I remember trying to talk about it to some online friends I had but some of them started treating me with a bit of a raised eyebrow and prejudice because I liked it. I think I also had some stranger invalidate my opinion a couple times because they recognized my Hetalia pfp and treated me like a shallow stupid fangirl whose opinon is garbage. Aaand I also remember there being some ant*-Hetalia circles where they made fun of or even actively harassed Hetalia fans online. And the reason was almost always linked to 'rotten girl' mentality, not for stuff anywhere close to what purity police and "new-gen ant*s" do today.

I absolutely get your feelings, I feel the same, I too wish I didn't feel so anxious and scared at the idea of saying that I like Hetalia, but even when I cross path irl with an anime/manga fan, I am too scared of them turning out to be one of those people to feel safe saying that Hetalia is basically the only anime/manga I love. If I ever found a Hetalia fan out in the wild I would surely reach out to them first though, haha :') (no I'm joking I still have social anxiety but I would definitely try).

Truth is, the world is still full of Hetalia fans but as you said, we tend to hide in plain sight because we're worried of crossing path with some jerk who will shame us for it for whether the classic mysogynistic reasons or the new reasons ant*s came up with.

#ask

[hashtag-girlblogger]

how to live like it's 2014 again

If you're anything like me, you're nostalgic for everything. I am constantly wishing to be somewhere else or in some time else. I'm nostalgic for the 60's (I was born in 2001), nostalgic for the early 2000's (pop is just not the same), and most of all–I am nostalgic for 2012 to 2016. I think it is widely agreed that these years, especially on Tumblr, were the last best years many of us have ever had. I was a baby, still in middle school and just 15 years old in 2016. But wow, what a time to be alive. Music, movies, TV, pop culture, fashion, the internet–the world was a better place.

I have been toying with the idea of exiting mainstream society (as best I can) for sometime now. I've been thinking, "Is it possible to live in another era while stuck in the constantly evolving 2024?" Can I abandon social norms or things of "the time" and just live like it's 2014 again?

I've thought about what this would mean, what it would look like. Only listening to Halsey, Calvin Harris and Marina. Splurging at Victoria's Secret and wearing the iconic Tease perfume at all times. What's TikTok? You don't use Valencia on your Instagram posts? I'm obsessed with WeHeartIt. Look at my new Penny board!

Alternatively, I could take the Arctic Monkeys, soft grunge, American Apparel and Marlboro cigarettes route. All black, watching AHS Coven and wondering if I have secret witchy powers too.

I think where all these feelings come from is that the current state of the world is just not feeling so good (to put it nicely). The world is accelerating at a speed I do not want to keep up with. Social media and technology are great but it has literally become this crushing weight. "Just delete social media then." Yeah fair. I guess I just feel so disconnected from my life. From my real life. Like I spend so much of my time venturing into other worlds I've made up in my head. Like 2014 Tumblr. It's not here anymore, it's gone, but I live there. A part of me is still there.

I'm like 12 or 13 years old. Was still a competitive cheerleader, which I regrettably quit when I got to high school. I spent everyday after school with my friends, making video stars or doing gymnastics in the field. We would walk around our neighbourhood, talking about god knows what and enjoying every minute of it. I looked at the future and it could be anything. I could be anyone and do anything I wanted. I feel like that's what I really want. Maybe I miss the music and clothes and vibes of that era buy what I'm really craving is how purely simple and free I felt, how connected I felt to my own life.

Now I'm 22, soon to be 23. Graduating college soon, heading into my big girl job, big girl career. Totally terrified and also excited. But I spend my time alone, so much time alone. My social battery is always empty, I rarely catch up with friends. When I do, we always have to be doing something. Dinner, drinks, movies, parties, dancing, classes. It's never, just come over let's hangout. And I get it, we're young adults, we are supposed to be doing stuff, we are meant to be out and about living our best lives. I guess I just want it to feel different. I want it to feel like it used to.

Okay sooooo.

This is how to live like it's 2014.

Talk to your friends, often and without any agenda. Create the ultimate playlist, this one's pretty good:

Binge CW shows and trashy reality TV. Totally freak out when someone says you look like Violet from AHS (this actually happened to me at work the other day and I couldn't stop smiling). Say screw the trends and wear some skinny jeans and those Alexander McQueen ankle boots, Alexa Chung approved. Get off your phone and be alive now. It's 2014, you don't have a worry in the world.

#2014 #2014 tumblr #Spotify #thatblog

[jow99]

Happy Valentines

Monday morning was chilly and we had a few things to do at home so we didn’t venture out until after 11am for a walk/run once the sun was well and truly out. We then stayed put inside again doing washing, study, bookings, watching some cycling on tv, etc until we finally ventured out again after 5pm. For some reason we were really feeling chilly so didn’t hang around and were soon home for wine and exam revision followed by nibbles and dinner and falling asleep on the lounge.

Tuesday dawned foggy but today we were hitting Els Angels so off we went to meet Marjolein and Charlie. Even though temperature wise it was a couple of degrees warmer than Saturday the moisture in the air made it feel colder.

Today was an awesome, though tough ride. We’d already done a not insignificant amount of climbing before we got to Els Angels. Els Ángels is the climb that Lance Armstrong made famous as it was an integral part of his training when he lived in Girona.

When we did Hannibal in 2014 we cycled Els Ángels from the Girona side. Mich and I were quite nervous as we knew about the Lance element and were pleasantly surprised by how easily we ascended it (may have been something to do with our pre training).

I had heard the approach from the side we went up today was steeper and I think I can pretty much verify that. Neither side is horrific, but today was definitely a bit steeper.

This is not a climb to do in winter. We were constantly in the shadow of the mountain and the road was quite wet. Not a problem on the way up but made for a cautious descent.

This was the longest ride I’ve done in a while so I was definitely feeling it on the way home and of course the wind had picked up. We stopped for coffee and cakes in Verges and then headed home.

I was pretty stuffed so a quiet afternoon, although early evening we did go out for a Valentine’s drink before heading home.

Last time we went grocery shopping we made a dangerous discovery - provolone cheese in terracotta dishes ready to be melted in the oven. Given our big ride and it being Valentine’s Day, dinner tonight was a terracotta pot of provolone with oregano a bit of spicy chorizo each - heaven! Now we’re finishing up our red wine and falling asleep in front of the tv 😴

PS: Jose just woke up flicked around the channels and we’ve got Bluey in Spanish 😳

[lookingupatthesamemoon]

janAUary #1 - grocery store

pairing: Bonnie x Willy Wonka (2023)

summary: Willy becomes quite the regular customer at Bonnie's grocery store

word count: 1154

author's note: this was very much just a warm-up style drabble !!! just flexing the muscles - not my best work, but fun to write :) divider is from @/yaynowimglad

Bonnie was used to slow days. She had only been in charge for a couple years, but she could probably count the customers she had seen in her time as the owner on just her two hands. Her grandmother had left it to her in the will, and she had worked there since she was a teenager - come to think of it, it had always been pretty slow.

Of course, Bonnie’s store, The Concoctor's Cabinet, didn’t sell just milk and eggs and bread. She sold things far more interesting - like liquified sun rays and phoenix feathers. The handmade shelves were chock full of jars of some of the rarest ingredients found all around the world. She would’ve thought all the rich freaks in this part of Europe would be chomping at the bit to get their hands on stuff like this - where else around here could you find literal lightning in a bottle? But it apparently wasn’t interesting enough for more than a single novelty visit for many back when the place first opened… While her grandmother was still alive.

So, naturally, on a random Tuesday in the early days of winter, Bonnie expected not to see a single soul during her work day. That is, until she saw a frail young man barrel in the door. She watched him from the counter for a moment before greeting him, taking note of his mannerisms. He looked… Different. Nothing like the customers she’d seen in the past. Not much like her other regulars, either, come to think of it. His clothes were brighter, albeit a little dirty, and he wore a brown top hat over his tousled hair. She almost wanted to laugh, until he looked up and met her eyes.

“Good afternoon,” she stammered. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

The man smiled, removing his hat and placing it under his arm. “As a matter of fact, you can. I was told I might be able to find some griffin tooth here?”

“Oh! Absolutely, let me take you to it,” Bonnie replied, leaving her post to lead the way. Surely she could have simply pointed to the shelf, seeing as the shop wasn’t exactly big, but customer engagement was important to her - after all, for all she knew, a personalized shopping experience could be the difference between a lifetime regular and a one-time novelty shopper. The two took a short walk over to the right corner of the store, where all the gold products were - Bonnie liked to organize them by color, she thought it made things look prettier. 

“Okay, owl feather, pot of gold, golem gear… Ah! Griffin tooth! How much were you looking to get?”

“Well, how much you got?”

“It looks like… About four jars.”

“I’ll take ‘em all,” the man beamed. “I mean, it’s a miracle I was even able to find any… Thank you.”

“Of course! You’re very welcome, mister…”

“Wonka,” he said, filling in the blank. “Willy Wonka.”

“Well, Mr. Wonka, you are very welcome,” Bonnie repeated.

“Please, call me Willy,” the man insisted.

“Was Mr. Wonka your father?” Bonnie asked, attempting to joke with him as they made their way back to the checkout counter.

“No, I don’t know my father’s name, actually,” Willy responded.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he grinned.

Bonnie’s face tinted pink as she took her place behind the counter, setting herself up to make the sale. All the while, Willy kept his eyes on her, watching as she typed away on her system. She looked to be about his age, which was wonderful news for Willy for a multitude of reasons. For one, it gave him hope for his own business venture - if Bonnie could run a shop like this, surely he could make it with his chocolate shop. It also gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, he could finally find a friend his own age in her. For much of his life, Willy really only knew people older than him - well, Noodle being the exception. But, on the boat, all of his coworkers were a bit older, and his new friends from Scrubbit's were all a bit older, and even much of his customer base proved to be at least a few years older than he was. He felt like he was so far behind them - maybe someone like Bonnie could help him catch up.

“Okay, so… four jars of griffin tooth… That comes to twelve sovereigns!” Bonnie said cheerfully, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Really?” Willy asked, tilting his head to the side. “Just… Just twelve sovereigns?”

“Sure,” Bonnie shrugged. “Three sovereigns per jar, four jars… That makes twelve sovereigns.”

Willy looked at her bewildered, his expression suggesting some kind of boyish glee. Bonnie’s blush surely got darker, though she couldn’t tell considering her cheeks had been a little hot since he walked through the door. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever found griffin tooth at that kind of price before,” Willy said. “I mean, I almost feel like I’m stealing from you. You’re sure that’s all I owe you?”

“Positive,” Bonnie nodded. “My grandmother always wanted to keep the prices reasonable - she always said everyone deserved the finest goods at the fairest price.”

“Well, your grandmother sounds like she was a wise woman.”

“Yeah, she was,” Bonnie replied, grinning to herself.

She finished ringing up the sale, putting the twelve sovereigns in her register, then gently wrapping up each jar. Her packaging was something she prided herself on, and as she stealthily glanced up at Willy, she could tell he was a fan of it too.

“I like that paper you’re using, it’s pretty,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the burgundy striped paper curling around the jar in Bonnie's hands.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Gotta keep the jars safe, you know? I don’t want them to break and make a mess in the bag.”

“Well, I appreciate the gesture. Not too many shop owners around here seem to put in the level of care you do. I mean, even down to the decor… I can tell there’s a lot of love in this place. I can only hope my shop can feel a fraction as nice as this.”

“You have a shop?” Bonnie asked, raising an eyebrow as she slid the bag of griffin tooth closer to him.

“I do! Wonka’s Chocolate Shop, down at the Gallery Gourmet.”

“Chocolate… Is that what you need all this griffin tooth for?”

“Sure is! Not all at once, of course, but it never hurts to have a little extra… You should come by! I’ll let you taste test the batch I use your ingredients for.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bonnie said, offering a nod and a smile.

Willy put his hat back on, tipping it to her as he picked up the bag and headed for the door. “Bonnie was it?”

“Yep, that’s me!”

“I will definitely be back.”

#rye writes ! #janauary2024 #ship: sugar rush #self ship #self shipping

[devsgames]

Bombing!! A Graffiti Sandbox: 1 Year Revenue Breakdown + Retrospective

I'm going to give a little breakdown of the cost/profits of my solo developed creative sandbox graffiti game Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox, from a one-year snapshot after release.

Disclaimer: This information was originally posted in July 2022 on my Twitter, and I'm reposting it here because I believe it's incredibly useful information for other developers to have when publishing something. It's the exact kind of information I wish I had when first venturing into gamedev solo!

Profit Breakdown

Units Sold (Steam): 1,167

Total Grossing (Steam): $5,792 USD

Total Net (Steam): $4,133 USD

Units Sold (Itch): 20

Total Grossing (Itchio): $106.00 USD

Cost Breakdown

Unity Plugins: $100.48 USD

Music (Licensing): $190.39 USD

Localization: $87.08 USD

Promo (Event fees + VO for reels): $55 USD

Steam listing: $125 USD

Total non-labour costs: $557.95 USD

Observations

Itch Organic Discoverability is typically very low. I tend not to use Itch as a primary host for my work because of this reason alone. It's pay structure is more equitable, but people rarely discover my games there. I use Itch to put my game in charitable bundles for good causes and for giving people an option to buy through there if they prefer, but I don't promote my work via that because I've never found success there.

At time of writing (July 2022) I was averaging ~$120 USD per month from Steam sales. As of November 2022 this has decreased to ~$90, which means my Steam profits of both Bombing!!: A Graffiti Paradise and Lofty Quest don't make enough sales to pass the $100 monthly Steam payout limit.

I don't plan to recoup labour fees on nay project, ever. Simply put, with how the market is and the devaluation of games in general I don't anticipate ever becoming sustainable enough to afford the price of the actual work I put into my projects. Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox was made over the course of ~7 months with hundreds of hours of labour put into it - even in terms of minimum wage rates that's a lot for an indie title to try and make back on, so planning for that has always felt unrealistic for me.

I'm lucky I found a niche. Non-VR painting simulators are in short supply, and there was a lot of people who wanted to be able to draw in a world without an expensive VR barrier to entry. I think knowing the market and planning for that ended up being a smart move on my part.

A lot of success has been due to my network. Word of mouth spread on Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox was pretty solid, and without word getting out early on I suspect these numbers would have shaken out a fair bit worse.

In Summary

I think Bombing!!: A Graffiti Sandbox was a success.

Honestly, as my first published digital title I expected it to flop and my goal was to simply make back the cost it took to get it onto the Steam store (~$125 USD). I think it had made that back in roughly a week after it launched, which blew me away.

I do think it was largely privilege and luck that got me there however. Even considering how rough the game is (looking at it now it's crazy to me that I actually shipped it) I'm super grateful it found its audience and a community that cared so deeply about it despite its flaws.

It's also a big reason why I want to make Bombing!! 2: A Graffiti Paradise the best that it can be, to properly give the people who supported me something even better to play around with :)

(As with anything else, I'm totally open to asks for specifics or further observations on this sort of stuff if there's anything else you'd like to know, or even just have any curiosities about! As I mentioned, when I was starting out I wish I had more bizdev resources that were transparent about raw numbers like this from the perspective of people working at a similar scale to myself, so I wanna give back however I can.)

#advice #indie games #indie game #marketing #bizdev #game dev #solo dev #game development #indie dev #indiedev #indie developer #gamedev #gamedevelopment