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theharddeck · 2 years

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i know you want it, do-si-don’tcha (hangman x reader)

Pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: hangman and his girlfriend walk home in the rain after a night at a dance hall, and warm up back at the airbnb.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), bit of a praise kink (it’s Jake; you’ve got to), daddy kink if you squint (it’s Jake, you’ve GOT to), overstimulation, swearing for sure, lmk if I need to add anything else

Length: 5.8k

Title is from this song by Tanner Adell, and images are edited from Pinterest

On paper they seemed nice—refreshing! The land needs it! At least it’s warm out!—but when you and Jake pushed open the barn doors at the Broken Spoke at just after midnight to sheets of pouring rain, you would have to dissent.

Walking to the dance hall had seemed like a good idea when you and Jake left the airbnb some five hours ago. It wasn’t far, and parking was going to be a mess, and you were both in boots anyways—Jake in the ones he’d gotten for graduating college, you in the ones he’d gotten you just before the trip.

The light brown leather was soft and they fit too perfectly for them to be off the shelf, but the fact that they didn’t have to be broken in meant you didn’t push Jake too heavily for details. You were grateful for that now, as you stood in front of streaming rain, wondering if the gorgeous leather was going to survive the night.

“We could call an uber?” you suggested, having to shout to be heard over the downpour.

“In downtown Austin, at midnight?” Jake called back, and when you looked over at him, his eyes were sparkling with laughter. You could see him trying to hold it in, knowing your aversion to rain, but he looked like he wanted to burst out laughing.

“We’re walking back in this, aren’t we?” you sighed, and Jake pulled you into his side, letting out his laugh.

“Afraid so, sweetheart,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and your arm curled around his waist reflexively.

You held out your hand from under the awning and the rain hit it with such force that it actually splashed back onto you. It was a warm night, late summer in Texas still pushing 80 degrees even though the sun had gone down hours ago, and the rain felt slightly cooling.

It could be worse.

You’d left your phones back at the airbnb, and it was just water.

You tilted your head to look up at Jake. His eyes were slightly squinted at the splash of water, a sheen of sweat from line dancing still on his skin. His five o’clock shadow was always more pronounced on the second day, and so tonight you could just see the beginnings of stubble across his jaw.

He really was too handsome to be real, especially when he looked down at you, his green eyes intense as always. His head tilted a little, like he hadn’t expected you to be looking back at him, and you smiled reassuringly, squeezing his waist.

“Okay,” you said, blowing out a long breath. “Let’s do it.”

Jake tightened his arm around you, before his hand fell from your shoulder, across your back, to hold the hand closest to him.

“Let’s do it,” he repeated, and the two of you stepped out from under the awning.

You couldn’t stop the squeal when the rain washed over you, absolutely unrelenting. It was cooler than you’d expected, sharp and hard, and it shot new energy through your veins. Jake seemed to reacting similarly, jumping back and forth to acclimatize himself to the water as his clothes soaked through. Water streamed off the brim of his hat, down over the black button down he was wearing, plastering it to his body.

You knew you looked a fool, drenched like a wet dog in the rain, just staring at your boyfriend, but he looked like a music video from the early aughts. Broad shouldered, white teeth, flashing grin as the water splashed off of him. His dark jeans stretched over thick thighs that could make you salivate on any given day, but now had water running down them, denim tight like a second skin. Jake kicked at a puddle, boots sending up a spray of water and as he laughed at the cascade in the streetlight, you felt your heart swell.

His unbridled joy was a beautiful thing, especially for its rarity. When he was on duty, he bore responsibility heavily, masking it under overconfidence and driving jibes. But this Jake—the one who laughed when he was soaked to the bone, unbothered by rain in the middle of a parking lot in Texas—this one was special to get to see.

He turned back to you, and you smiled softly at him, lashes heavy from the rain.

Jake pulled the hand he still held to draw you to him; you fit easily under his arm as the two of you started walking. Your arm around his waist, his over your shoulder, and you skipped a step to matched your pace to his.

Left - right - left - right, steel-tipped toes through puddles of rainwater.

A moment later, you felt something warm on your forehead as Jake settled his hat on your head. It sat low on you, resting on your ears rather than your temples, but it stopped the rain from falling into your eyes, and when you looked up at Jake, he was running a hand through his hair to fix it. His hair was getting long, flipping over the crown of his head, and the ends curling up almost to his shoulders.

Jake’s eyes narrowed to protect them from the rain, and water ran unprotected down his face. Your heart flipped at the little gesture, unprovoked and unexpected, but entirely natural to Jake, to look after you like that.

Thoroughly soaked, you didn’t hurry as you walked back. You were both drenched, so there was no point in running, and the night was warm enough that you didn’t worry about the chill.

A couple cars slowed as they drove by, trying not to splash you both, and you were content to walk in silence. There wasn’t much to say, and your arms around each other seemed a pretty perfect cap on the evening.

One truck honked as it drove by and you felt Jake look at you before cursing quietly under his breath. A moment later, his arm fell from around you and he started unbuttoning his shirt; you looked down and understood why.

Your yellow sundress had been opaque in the evening light when you’d left the airbnb, but soaked through, it was nearly transparent. The skirt was the perfect twirling length, falling to just above your knees, and the thick straps were wide enough to hide your bra straps, but the rain pressed it against your skin, and the red of your bra was clearly visible, as well as the black line of your panties.

“Jake, it’s fine—” you started, when you noticed he was glaring after the truck, unbuttoning the wet fabric with less finesse than normal.

“Not a word,” he said, looking sharply at you.

You closed your mouth.

He pulled off the button down, peeling it off his shoulders and wrapping it around you like a cloak. It wasn’t so oversized that it swallowed you, but he hung it stubbornly over your shoulders, buttoning it deliberately. It was too wet to feed your arms through it, and so it ended up like a cloak or a straightjacket, but Jake’s expression harbored no room for discussion. His brow was furrowed in concentration, jaw tight, and when he finished, you went up on your toes to kiss him before he stepped away.

His lips were warm, rain water coasting down his cheeks, and you felt him relax slightly as your mouth brushed against his.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he grunted. You raised your eyebrows, still extended on your toes, weaving slightly till his hands came up to steady you while you waited.

“Welcome,” he said, begrudgingly. You could tell he didn’t like the idea of other people being able to see you exposed like that, just as he knew you didn’t want him to go all territorial about it. Sometimes it was hot, sometimes it was something that rubbed you wrong, because he had to know he was all yours. You could be stark naked on the street, and the only eyes you’d care were on you would be his.

You smiled, kissing him again quickly, then settled back into your boots.

“Besides,” you said, starting to walk again and gesturing at his chest, “pretty sure this is a more graphic image than what I was rocking.”

Jake looked down at himself, at the white undershirt that was absolutely translucent against his tanned skin. You could see the texture of his chest hair, the darkness of his nipples, the contours of his abs, looking like he was an Amercrombie model. Jake shrugged, unphased by his body being on display, and reached down to where your fingers peeked out from the confines of his shirt to tangle your hands together.

You walked on together.

The shirt wrapped around you was still warm from his body, and the contrast stoked something inside of you. He’d been so patient all night, guiding you through the foreign dances, never minding when you stumbled over his boots. He’d twirled you in his strong arms, made you feel light and beautiful, and reminded you how good it was to be on his arm.

To be his.

You turned down the street of your airbnb, and Jake dug around in his pocket for the key. He never let go of your hand, and that light contact had your body humming for more.

Jake got the door open, flipping on a tabletop light and propped it open with his hip as he reaching back into the rain for you.

A shiver worked over your skin as the water flowed over his skin, the sharp lines of his jaw, shoulders, arms, and Jake’s eyes clouded with concern as he noticed the tremor, and he pulled you quickly into the house.

“Baby,” he said quietly, voice chastising and caring at once, “why didn’t you say you were cold?”

He closed the door behind you, his long fingers undoing the buttons of the shirt he’d put around your shoulders. Absently, you knew you should help him, but he didn’t seem to mind, so you stood in a dripping pile in the mudroom as he reached the end of the column, and pushed the garment off your shoulders. It fell with a splat to the tile, and your newly exposed skin prickled with awareness.

Jake made a sound in the back of his throat like concern, and his hands skimmed down your shoulders from where he’d pushed the button down off you, finding the zipper of your dress under your arm. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he undid the zipper slowly, and another shiver worked over your skin.

You could feel warmth radiating off of him, through the translucent white of his undershirt, through the stretched denim of his jeans. You leaned slightly towards him as the material of your dress slackened as the zipper came undone.

“Jake—” you started, but he shushed you as he guided the straps down your shoulders. The dress pooled on the floor around your boots, his motions slow and gentle, his touch warm.

Jake stilled at the sight, and you felt his gaze travel up your body, his hands coming to your waist.

“Ah, sweetheart,” he sighed, and his thumbs smoothed over the skin of your stomach as his perusal fluttered beneath your skin. You watched desire flash in his eyes, his jaw clench at the sight of you, but then determination to care for you chased it away.

You whispered his name again, as your hands drifted over the thin cotton of his shirt.

“I know, baby, I’m hurrying,” he said, misunderstanding. Jake leaned into your touch as your hands smoothed over his shirt to his shoulders, but he turned his head when you rose up to kiss him. Undeterred, you pressed your lips against his cheek, his jaw, trailing down to his neck.

You loved the way his stubble prickled under your tongue, rough texture where there was usually smooth, and the rain water tasted sweet on his skin.

“You’re shaking, angel,” he muttered, voice strained as your tongue skated along his jaw. “Come on, stop that, let me take care of you.”

You shivered again, biting back a whimper as your mind ran through the many ways in which he could take care of you. Jake read your shiver as emphasis that he needed to work faster, and his hands tightened on your waist, holding you steady as he pushed away from you. You could see his eyes dilated from desire, but he still knelt in front of you, lifting one of your feet to pull off the boot. Your hands rested on his shoulder, fisting the thin cotton there as you leaned back against the door for balance.

His skin was warm like a furnace, and you wanted to curl up into his chest, warm your body with his.

“Jake, please—” you tried again, and the look he shot up at you as he pulled off your boot was frustrated.

“I know, sweetheart, let me just get these off of you, then I’ll get a blanket—“

“Jake,” you interrupted, “it’s not the cold.”

He stopped at your words, eyes flitting up to yours in confusion, before falling over your body. The goosebumps over your skin, the slight shivers, the uneven breathing—you watched it dawn on him that this was your reaction to him, not the rain.

He sat back on his thighs, looking up at you. His eyes were dark, his jaw loose, and he finished pulling off your other boot.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, baby?” he asked, the slightest reprimand in his voice. His hands trailed up your legs as he leaned forward, not breaking eye contact, to press a kiss against your stomach, “You know I would’ve been on my knees way sooner for you.”

You whimpered, you couldn’t help it, and you saw his eyes darken.

“Tried to tell you,” you whispered, as his hands skimmed over your skin. His touch felt like sparks as he reached your underwear, fingers teasing along the edge of it.

“My pretty, needy girl,” he murmured, his fingers dipping under the hem as he started to pull them down your thighs. “Am I gonna find you wet under here, sweetheart?”

You squirmed as the material dragged across your skin, and then Jake exhaled slowly as you were bared to him.

“Angel,” he groaned, looking up at you, and before you could ask what, he ran a finger through your folds. Your body jerked at the contact, hand fisting his tshirt and your eyes falling closed. Jake pulled his hand away and you heard him hum as he brought his finger to his mouth, tasting you.

“What was it that got you this ready, baby?” he asked, voice low, as he returned his hand. He ran his finger through you, feeling, teasing, pulling through the wetness there and reveling in it. “Was it the dancing? Knowing every man in that hall was jealous of whose arm you were on? Was it those assholes in the truck, getting a glimpse of my girl—“

“You, Jake,” you interrupted, your hips chasing after his hand, knowing it was what he wanted to hear, knowing it was true. It wasn’t dancing, it was being in his arms; it wasn’t being exposed, it was him covering you. “Only you, baby.”

“Damn straight,” Jake muttered darkly, and his hand dropped as he leaned forward to bury his face in your cunt.

Your head hit the door as your back arched when his tongue speared into you. Jake’s hands gripped the back of your thighs, spreading you, and his mouth worked over you. Normally he’d tease you with kisses, brush his lips around your inner thighs and wait until you begged before he met your desperate need, but tonight you felt the urgency in his mouth, the possession.

He licked you hungrily, tongue flat and broad, before he worked his way up to your clit. When he stroked over the tight bundle of nerves you felt your legs weaken, leaning back against the door heavily, and Jake hummed against you. The vibration felt heavenly, but it was him, it was knowing he knew how good he was making you feel, that sent another rush of arousal through you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jake mumbled against you as he lapped at you.

“Feels so good, baby,” you told him, and you let go of his shirt to reach up for his head. You brushed your hand over his forehead into his hair; his eyes fluttered as your nails scratched into his scalp and tangled your fingers into his hair.

Jake let go of one of your thighs to reach between your legs, his hand stroking between your folds as his mouth returned to your clit. His lips closed over you, his tongue circling, tasting, and he pressed a finger at your entrance.

His broad, calloused finger felt so damn good, pushing steadily and your hips canted forward.

“Shit, baby,” Jake whispered. “Look at you, pulling me in like this.”

You felt shameless, your body wanting more and more and more of him, and when you looked down to see your arousal glistening on his chin as he watched you, tightness coiled in your core.

“Jake, you look so good,” you had to tell him, your voice wrecked, and his eyes shot up to you. His eyes were blown wide and his chest puffed slightly at your words and he added another finger.

You moaned at the delicious stretch, at the look of wild pride on his face.

“You like how I look like this?” Jake asked, increasing the speed of his fingers, feeling your legs shaking. “You like how your man looks on his knees, how fucking gone he is for you, for your taste, for those little whimpers you’re making?”

His words curled over you and you nodded frantically, lost in sensation. Jake curled his fingers inside of you, knowing where you ached, and when his mouth returned to your clit, you gasped, pulling at his shirt. If he kept this up, you were going to come, and you didn’t want it to end yet.

He chuckled darkly but followed your pulling, rising up to stand in front of you. Taller than you again, and still in his boots, one of his hands rested on the door beside your head and the one that had been between your legs traced over your lips. You opened your mouth obediently, and Jake groaned when your tongue licked over his fingers, tasting how good he’d made you feel.

“Right back at you, darlin’,” he said. “I can’t think straight, not with you looking like this.”

He pulled his finger from your mouth, caging you back against the door, and he dipped his head to kiss along your jaw, down your neck. He found a spot that made you whine and when he sucked, your hips bucked forward; you both moaned when your heat met his thigh.

You ground against him, knowing you were making a mess, but the drag of wet denim against your core was nothing short of intoxicating. The rough friction, with the soft pull of Jake’s mouth at your neck, had you whimpering, and Jake’s hands dropped from the door to undo your bra. You vaguely registered it dropping to the floor, and the cool air on your skin before Jake’s big hands covered your breasts. His palms were warm, his fingers rough, and he squeezed as you rutted against him.

“Yeah, baby?” Jake pulled back slightly to ask, his panting breath on your neck. “You gonna get yourself off on my thigh?”

Shit, you probably could.

Just the thought of it sent another wave of arousal through you, and Jake groaned quietly as he felt the slide of you grow slicker against his jeans. He pushed his hips back into you slightly, and your hands scrambled to pull at his tshirt. You needed his skin, to feel him against you, and Jake released you so you could pull the thin cotton off of him.

His skin glowed golden in the dim light, tan and warm and your hands pushed over his chest, reveling in the feel of him. You could feel his breath stutter at your touch, and your hands turned downward.

“Baby,” Jake warned, as your fingers brushed through the hair below his navel.

“Baby,” you teased back, and then your breath caught when you felt him through his jeans. Jake’s hips bucked forward as you pressed your hand over his length. You could feel him, hard and hot, and you ground into his thigh, knowing how good he would stretch you, fill you.

Jake groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder and his hands bracing on either side of the door as you worked over him.

“Tell me quick, darlin’,” he said through a clenched jaw. “You feel too good and you’re not even fucking touching me yet; if you want to come on something other than my cock, tell me now.”

You whimpered, his frank words only spurring you on. You reached up to undo his belt buckle, then got the zipper just low enough that you could slide your hand inside his boxers to feel him. You both moaned when your hand closed around him, hard and pulsing, the tip already leaking precum.

“That last,” you managed to say, “I want that, Jake, please—“

“Thank fuck,” Jake gritted, and he reached down to pull your hands from him, lifting them above your head. With one hand, he held your wrists against the door and with the other, he hastily jerked down his pants. Still soaked from the rain, they only made it halfway down his thighs, and Jake abandoned them to get back to touching you, running his fingers between your thighs again.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, and his brow furrowed slightly as he looked back up to check in with you. “Are you sure you’re ready for me, baby? We could—“

“I’m ready, please,” you breathed, your body canting away from the door. Normally you’d work up to taking his dick but tonight you wanted him now, bad enough to risk the immediate discomfort.

“Baby…” Jake started, but trailed off with a chuckle when he saw your determined glare. “Alright, alright.”

His hand drifted from between your legs to pump over his cock, working your wetness and his precum together, and you whimpered as he lined himself up to your entrance.

“Please, baby, please—“ you pleaded, and Jake slammed into you.

Fucking hell.

You knew he was big, you were reminded every time, but your body slacked against the door as he pushed himself into you. You wanted to push back, press your hips into him, but you were burning with the stretch and all your body could do was work to accommodate him.

“Sweetheart,” Jake soothed, letting go of your wrist to brush a hand across your forehead.

You squirmed, try to find an angle to alleviate the stretch and Jake choked when you worked farther onto him.

“Darlin’, you’re so tight, stretching so good for me…”

You felt drunk, you felt like you were floating above yourself, the only thing tethering you to this plane was the ache between your thighs and Jake’s voice. Your head rolled and Jake knocked the hat off your head, so his hand could rest between your and the door, cradling you.

“Talk to me, baby,” he said, and you opened your eyes to see his face so close to yours, watching you closely.

“You’re trying so hard not to say that you told me so,” you tried to laugh, but your voice was tight between pain and pleasure.

“I’m being pretty heroic right now, I think,” Jake chuckled, but you saw the tightness in his shoulders as he fought to keep still.

God, he was so good to you, checking in and holding himself off to make sure you were okay. It was a tight stretch, and it was uncomfortable in the moment, but his care was so sweet and you knew it’d be just that—a moment.

“I’d be mad if it wasn’t so damn good,” you whispered, and Jake’s hips jerked forward at your mild praise before he reigned himself in.

“Baby—” he warned, but you pulled your wrists from his hand to trace down his sides, feel his measured breath as he fought to keep from pushing into you harder.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me, Jake,” you pouted, and Jake groaned as his resolve crumbled.

“Alright, baby, hang on,” he gritted, and for anyone else it would’ve been the cheesiest line, but with Jake it was a warning.

He pulled out slow, the stretch heavy both ways, then pushed back into you, hard. The hand he had behind your head, protecting you from the door, held you in place as he shoved his cock up into you, and you cried out.

You felt so full, and then he pulled back only to push in deeper. He set a punishing rhythm, and your hands grappled for purchase, feeling his back flex under your fingers as he thrust up into you. Each stroke drove you against the wood door and you felt your skin dragging against the raw surface but it grounded you, something other than the pulsing fullness inside of you.

Jake lifted one of your legs to wrap around his waist and you moaned as it changed the angle. He pushed impossibly deeper into you, using your thigh for leverage, and ground against your clit at the top of his thrust. Jake’s breathing had gone uneven, and knowing he felt it too had you clenching tighter around him.

It was too much, it was everything, it was so fucking good you couldn’t handle it.

“Breathe, baby,” Jake gritted. “You feel so fucking good; stay with me.”

“Jake,” you sobbed, not even knowing what you were asking for. His hips stuttered when you said his name, and he drove into you harder.

The force of his thrusts lifted you off the ground, your leg on his waist hanging in the air and your tiptoe only barely grazing the ground when Jake pulled out. He was fully supporting you, fucking you into the door and each scrape of your back against the wood felt like the only countermeasure to the immense pleasure he was wringing out of your body

“So pretty, baby,” Jake groaned, and when you opened your eyes, his were dark, mouth open as he looked down over you. His panting breath was warm on your skin, and he shifted again, pushing you higher against the door so he could lower his mouth to your breasts as he pumped into you.

You let go of him to clamp a hand over your mouth to cover the scream that wanted to escape.

“None of that, baby,” Jake said immediately, pulling back from your chest. “I want to hear every sound you make, every noise my girl makes on my cock; that’s mine.”

You whimpered but nodded, dropping your hand, and Jake went back to your breasts. His tongue laved over you, teasing and sucking, and you felt the tightening in your core spread to your spine.

Jake released you from his mouth again, his head falling between your breasts. “I can feel that cunt tightening around me; are you getting close, darlin’?”

“I’m so close, Jake,” you cried. He thrust harder, grinding at the top to press against your clit, and you moaned loudly. He was so good, so strong and so big inside of you and you were swimming in it, so close…

“Fuck, baby, you sound so pretty,” Jake groaned. “My baby sounds so good working herself on my cock, doesn’t she?”

You nodded frantically, you were his, his, and he felt so damn good. You were so close, and Jake knew, he always knew.

His hand fell from the door to pull you tight down onto him, pushed with his dick deep inside you, not even a breath of space between your bodies. Jake used that closeness to grind against you, not pulling out, his pelvis over your clit, the pressure unbearable.

“Give it to me, baby,” he said, his voice as tight as his body, wound, waited for you. “Need to feel you come, baby, need to feel that cunt flutter around me, so come on, baby, come for your da—“

You shattered before he could finish saying it.

You keened, your body pushing off the door and spasming as waves of pleasure pulsed through you. You felt it in your fingers, you felt undone and baptized, white hot and unreal, and it sent you tumbling. Your throat felt raw and didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Jake’s careful hands, gently wiping under your eyes.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispered, and you realized your body was trembling at the force of what he’d just pulled out of you.

“Baby, you’re shaking,” Jake said, concern and pride mixing in his voice.

“‘s your fault,” you mumbled, tucking your head into his neck.

God, he smelled good, like sweat and rain, and the stubborn remnants of his cologne from hours ago. Your eyes felt heavy, your body even more so, and as you relaxed against him, you realized he was still hard inside of you.

You pulled back to look at him, his corded muscles pressing you into the wall. His jaw was clenched and he was breathing carefully through his nose, his nostrils flaring, but his hand on your cheek was gentle, controlled.

Damn, you loved this man.

Only he would take you dancing, laugh in the rain with you, fuck you up against a door without making it out of his boots, and yet tenderly wipe your tears before he finished.

“Baby,” you said softly, lifting a hand to run your fingers through his hair again. Jake leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment when you scratched at his scalp, and he hummed.

“Anything,” he whispered. “Tell me what you need, angel, anything.”

“I feel empty, baby,” you told him, “need to feel you come.”

Jake huffed out a breath, and you slid a little down the door as he twitched inside you.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure you’re okay, not—”

“I’m okay,” you assured him, leaning down to kiss him. When your lips met his, he drew in a deep breath, surging up to meet you, and you rolled your hips experimentally.

It was the most you’d been able to move yet, your body loosened by your orgasm, and the sensation had both of you freezing.

“Shit, baby,” Jake breathed.

“I know,” you whispered back. He was so deep inside you, it felt like you could feel him in your throat, but when you ground down on him, it was an entirely new sensation. You were too sensitive still, you weren’t going to come again, but it felt fucking incredible, and if Jake’s labored breathing was any indication, he felt the same.

“Sweetheart—“ Jake gritted, and you moved again. You pressed your forehead to his, sharing air as you swiveled your hips over his, fucking down onto him slowly.

Jake moaned against your mouth, a low, broken sound, and you wished you could trap it in a locket, the sound of your man, absolutely wrecked for you.

“Want to feel you, baby,” you whispered, lifting slightly to kiss his jaw, his neck, back to his lips.

“Christ—” Jake’s control snapped and his hands gripped your hips so tightly you knew he’d bruise.

He moved you over his cock, pistoning into you, and you drove your hips down meeting him. You felt his rhythm increase, and you knew he was close; your hand in his hair tightened, pulling slightly, and he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he pumped into you.

“You’re taking me so good, sweetheart,” he panted, and as his words curled through you, you clenched on him again. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

Jake’s hips stuttered when you tightened and he reached down to circle his thumb over your clit. Your hips jerked when he touched you, and you moaned.

“Baby, it’s okay, it’s too sensitive, I don’t need to—“

“Who knows what you need?” Jake’s words were as forceful as his hips, driving into you. You whimpered as his fingers brushed over you, pleasure spiraling from your core, your body winding up again.

The sounds of Jake slapping into you echoed around the mudroom, punctuated by your breathless moans and his hoarse grunts. Your body hadn’t fully come down from your first high, and you found yourself gasping as he drove into you, pushing you back to that brink again.

“Asked you a question, baby,” Jake said. He leaned forward, pinning your hips to the door. You couldn’t move, couldn’t shift against him, could only open your hips wider as he moved over you, inside of you.

“You do,” you whined, legs beginning to shake again. At your words, Jake circled your clit again, his thrusts growing

“That’s right,” Jake said, almost growled. “And what my girl needs is to come with me, yeah? To milk my cock so she doesn’t feel so empty anymore.”

“Please, Jake,” you begged, as your body wound tighter. He’d driven you so high so quickly that you knew the crash could be violent, and when Jake pressed a gentle kiss to the underside of your jaw, you were off like a Roman candle.

Jake was muttering rough praise against you, but you couldn’t hear him past the ringing in your ears, the way your world blurred, and then finally, finally, the twitching of his cock as he emptied inside of you. Jake came with a shout, slumping against you and the door, his body sagging as he pumped into you. As your skin cooled, you shivered again, this time actually from the cold.

Jake felt it, because of course he did.

You thought he’d pull out of you, but instead he leaned down and lifted your other leg around his waist. You protested feebly, but he silenced you with his lips, lifting you into his arms as he carried you towards the bathroom.

What a picture you made in the mirror’s reflection.

Your hair, tangled and wild, your body absolutely bare except for the marks left on your skin by your lover. Jake was still partially clothed, his jeans now around his knees as he shuffled you into the room, his golden skin shining with sweat. He set you down on the vanity, and he reached around you to turn on the tap to warm up a washcloth.

You smiled at him, sleepy and happy, and he grinned back, quick and easy. You saw his dimple appear on his cheek, and your heart felt like it was absolutely sopping with contentment, and you thought that maybe there was something redemptive about summer rain after all.

#hangman x reader #Jake hangman seresin #Jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x you #hangman fanfic #hangman smut #Jake seresin x reader #Texan jake seresin #this started off as an idea that woke me up at 6am #rapidly devolved into writing smut on a flight #and now I’m publishing before arguably the most important meeting of my career #so uh hope y’all like it #misskielwrites

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spongeyspot · 5 months

Text

Poly Relationship HCs (SFW +NSFW)

(John Marston x fem!reader x Abigail Marston)

(A/N): A little longer than I anticipated. Also, I'm terrible at editing things so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, please don't bite me. I'm just a wee baby

Content warning: fluff, small mentions of infidelity, polyamory, female reader, you/she pronouns

SFW

- The relationship itself had probably started when either John or Abigail had started to catch feelings

- It was probably Abigail considering how distant John was from her in the beginning

- Quite honestly would probably keep your relationship a secret during the very early stages.

- She saw how much you cared about her and her family, so it was only natural for her to start to fall in love. She fell in love with John pretty quickly, too, though he was a bit slower to warm up to the idea of having a family

- You, however, love Jack as if he were your own, which makes Abigail swoon even more. Plus, another parent figure to Jack (Who he also really likes) because her husband is kinda useless half the time? Jackpot!

- When she brought up adding you to their relationship, John was probably pretty okay with the idea, even a little excited, though if she told him that she had been seeing you secretly before that, he'd probably be a little pissy.

- After adding you to their family, things seemed to move a lot smoother. John warmed up to the idea a lot quicker than both of you had anticipated

- You usually act as a mediator for a lot of Abigail and John's fights, but knowing John he'd probably say some shit like "Look, even she's on my side!" and Abigail would get pissed at you too.

- Abigail LOVES to hold you by the fire. John usually has his arm around the both of you with you sitting in the middle.

- Would take turns having you sleep with them at night because their bedrolls weren't really big enough to fit one person, let alone three.

- When the gang moved to Shady Belle, things were a lot easier with lodging. John loses his mind every time he gets to cuddle the both of you at the same time. He's a sucker for physical touch, really.

- After chores are finished, the three of you are usually found sitting under a tree, Abigail cuddled into your side while you read a book, and John lays on his back beside you, his head resting on your thighs. His hat is usually covering his face, but when it isn't, you or Abigail absentmindedly play with his hair or massage his scalp.

- Abigail loves it when you spend time with Jack. It makes her heart swell to see him having so much fun.

- You tend to encourage John to spend time with him as well, which she also appreciates.

- Family game nights end with You and Jack teamed up and absolutely wrecking John at dominoes while Abigail watches

- Says something like "I let you win." with a roll of his eyes before sulking away

- Pet names!

- John calls you 'Baby', 'Darlin'', 'Dollface', and even 'Sugartits' if he wants to get slapped

- Abigail calls you 'Honey', 'Sweetie pie', 'Honey Bun', or 'Pretty Girl'.

- Both John and Abigail enjoy physical affection.

- John likes to kiss your hair and squeeze your thighs.

- Abigail loves to kiss you on the cheek and hold your hand.

-If John walks by you, he will throw out an affectionate compliment or two

- "God, you look pretty today, (Name)."

- Also probably pinches or slaps your ass on his way by

- He secretly loves it when you slap or pinch his ass too, though he'd never actually admit it.

- Abigail is a bit more sultry with it, then goes back to normal like she didn't just blatantly hit on you

- "Damn, well look at you, Pretty girl. Don't you look fine this mornin'... Coffee?"

- Also pinches and slaps your ass, but also gives it a good squeeze, and will sometimes hold her hand on your ass instead of on your hip if you stand side by side.

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

Content Warnings: oral sex (m + f recieving), mean!dom!abigail, dacryphilia if you squint, edging, masturbation, voyeurism, cucking if you squint, risky sex, brat tamer!Abigail, spanking, biting, hickeys, marking kink, Mommy kink, praise, breeding, creampies, cum eating

- John and Abigail are both switches.

- John tends to be a top when it's just the two of you, but when Abigail is also part of the fun, he's most likely on his back, letting you both use him however you please.

- His favorite is when he's laying on his back and both you and Abigail take turns sucking his cock, occasionally pulling away to kiss. It makes him rock hard. Never mind how it feels... he could cum from the sight alone... his favorite girls worshipping his cock with all their enthusiasm and love.

- Abigail is a Dom/top a lot of the time. She can also be pretty mean about it.

- Abigail edges you to the point where sometimes, you'll cry out for her, begging her to let you finish. Every time she finally lets you, you always feel like you cum so much harder than you ever had before.

- John loves to sit back and jerk off, watching the two of you in bed together.

- Abigail sometimes does the same, sitting aside whilst rubbing and fucking her pussy with her fingers as she watches John fuck you into his bedroll

- Abigail loves it when you act like a brat - She likes to leave your ass red and sore from spanking you, and often orders John to do the same when she watches.

- Abigail also probably bites you a leaves hickeys to stake her claim on you. Makes sure to put them where everyone can see.

- John does the same, but it's usually below where your clothes would cover them like your breasts, stomach, or thighs

- John LOVES biting you. He loves making you squirm

- Abigail lowkey has a Mommy kink

- Abigail likes to call you her Pillow Princess, pulling beautiful noises from you as she makes you cum multiple times in quick succession with just her hands. Sometimes even her words.

- "Look at you, sweetie pie. All pretty and spread open, just for me. Oh, I know you just came... but... How's about one more, huh? Can you do that for Mommy?"

- There have been times when it's been just the two of you, and she's shown far more vulnerability than she's used to. During those times, she's on her back, a hand covering her mouth as you work her open with your mouth and fingers.

- Please praise the hell out of her during these times. She really needs it.

- Even when Abigail is vulnerable with you, she is still in control almost 99.99% of the time.

- John and Abigail are both certified munches

-John loves when both of you are on top of him, riding both his dick and his face.

- He eats pussy like his life depends on it. Fr like it's his last meal.

- He also loves to watch you eat pussy.

- He loves to fuck you in the doggy style position while Abigail buries your face between her legs.

- John usually likes to have sex in the privacy of his tent/room, whereas Abigail likes risky sex. She likes the idea of there being a possibility you could be caught

- there have been numerous times when she's stuck her hand into the front of your skirts while you sat the the dining table during mealtimes. As far as you both knew, the other people sitting there had been oblivious.

- John knows. He always knows. He was watching the whole time.

- He was usually the one to instigate it, always letting Abigail know whenever you forwent bloomers. (he would hide them so you couldn't wear them)

-Though he'd probably never participate himself, he loves to watch you come undone on Abigail's fingers in public.

- John fantasizes about getting you pregnant too.

- He brought it up to Abigail as a joke, saying how nice it would be for Jack to have a sibling to play with.

- From that point on, John was told to cum inside you every chance he got, not stopping even after you're swollen and round with his baby.

-Abigail enjoys eating you out after John has cum inside you.

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sxilor-1010 · 3 months

Text

With that, I'm done with the ref for my take on Starlo! It could count as a canon divergence AU design of the sorts (said au is the pacifist route for UTY), so I had a lot of fun designing and coloring this! It was a good exercise too when it comes to sprite editing :)

Some extra headcanons I couldn't fit into the reference will be below the cut! (And the headcanons from the reference if nobody can read them) Maybe next time, I could work on Martlet or Ceroba? 🤔

• His poncho was made from an old grain sack he found in the corn field nearby his family's farm.

• His entire body can glow, from his freckles to his entire tail. An example would be when he blushes. His tail also rattles when upset, nervous, or angry. When calm, it emits a shimmering noise akin to a baby rattle.

• Besides his cowboy like attacks, he can also use light attacks such as beams and constructs.

• The star badge on his hat can be swapped with other shaped badges. He bought these as a set from Blackjack.

• Starlo's full name is Starlo U. Polaris. The middle name being Ursa. He's 28 with his birthday being on 8/27, and he stands at a whopping 7'1 in height. (Blame the growth spurts.)

• His revolver is named Starshot due to the star shaped barrel at the front. He also decorated it with a couple star stickers he found lying around his house.

• He's still the same in terms of personality, but he's grown a bit wiser and flirter too. Overall's he's pretty mature than what he used to be when he was younger.

• After the events of UTY, the little wheat tucked into his hat is replaced with a Clover in honor of his gone friend, and after the events of Undertale (a few years after UTY), He & The Feisty Five start their own band after realizing they can't be cowboys on the surface. Starlo, however, still does cowboy work in the form of a secret vigilante. As for the band, its named 'The Cosmic Starliner'.

• While he refuses to show it, Starlo suffers from gender dysphoria even after he's fully transitioned. Only Ceroba knows the full extent of how bad it is. He also suffers from anxiety and panic attacks if bad memories are brought up (ex: jokes / remarks about clover and their death)

• When he's not having fun with his posse or hanging out with Ceroba, sometimes he likes to take solo walks (or 'Adventures' as he calls it) through the Dunes and pretend he's on a quest. He often comes back either perfectly fine, a bit injured, or carrying a lot of stuff he found out of curiosity.

#sxilor doodles #uty #undertale yellow #uty fanart #undertale yellow fanart #uty starlo #starlo uty #starlo #starlo fanart #uty north star #north star uty #north star #north star fanart #uty au #undertale yellow au

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soobberries · 1 year

Text

Dilf!Seonghwa

Edit: this is a repost from my old blog including the little description below and I decided to not change anything about it. The blog I tagged below doesn't seem to exist anymore. :( also lmao I already started working on a part 2 xD yay!

Guys ahsdgajha. Lmao please I need to provide background for this post. I read @atiny-thingz Dilf!Ateez post and lemme tell you, I screamed. It brought back the memory of this running joke my friends and I used to have in 11th grade about this really hot dad that everyone crushed on. So in honour of the post that inspired me and my real life experience, I decided I would write this.

It is only a headcanon/au thing, but let me know if I should perhaps do a part 2?

Edit: here's part 2

This is the first time I’m writing kinda suggestive content and I’m pretty new to it so go easy on me, but I would love some feedback. It’s only suggestive at the end though lol.

Warning: Despite this technically being based on a legal reader, since there is a somewhat large age-gap - thought I would clarify:

Please be aware that I do not condone any type of relationships between minors and adults, nor do I encourage the idea of being a homewrecker. This is all just fiction! So without further ado, let’s get started!

Genre: Doesn’t exactly have one but has elements of crack and is suggestive.

Age: This is written for a somewhat mature audience so please, no under 16s. Stay safe younglings <3

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Ah yes, another day, another random school fundraiser.

Your mom got you to look after one of her colleague’s daughter, Nila, for the week while they went on a business trip.

It was the middle of the week and, while this kid was adorable, you’d literally do anything else then go to this weird fundraiser on such a beautiful afternoon.

Oh well, duties are duties.

So as this cutie kid drags you along throughout the whole school, showing you all the stalls and requesting that you buy her some food before she has her ‘shift’, you can’t help but notice that there are only parents here. No other students, siblings - nothing.

A deep exasperated sigh left your mouth because you were here for a good three hours, and quite frankly, despite this little fundraiser having some talks you could attend, you really had no idea how you would busy yourself since the talks offered were a bit boring and you had to pay a large chunk to get a space. Bummer.

Anyway after sharing some mouth-watering cookies with the little girl she asks you to come with her to her stall where she and her peers would be selling cold drinks, and of course you couldn’t say no because this kid was actually a sweetheart and you had it nowhere in your heart to do such.

So obviously you proceed to accompany her there.

It’s a cute stall, and you smile at the youthful, yet ignorant excitement shining in the little girl’s eyes as she exchanges the ‘duty cap’ that one of her classmates had on just prior.

Oh if only they knew what a real job was like.

It wasn’t until after the other girls left, that you realised she was alone, causing you to enquire about her job, wondering if she’s working the shift by herself.

“No, don't worry! Yerim is also doing the job with me. I’m sure she’ll come soon. See? That’s why there’s two hats.” She said, gesturing towards the other cap on the counter.

You nodded quaintly and silently decided to wait with her until her friend came.

“Daddy! Look! Nila is working with me!” A shout came from behind you and a little girl came running to bear hug Nila, causing the both of them to burst into a fit of giggles.

You smiled at the pair and watched mindlessly as Nila got Yerim her hat.

“Oh? Are you looking after Nila?” A voice called out.

‘Oh boy, here we go. Time to get out the speaking to parents voice’

Those were your thoughts as you dreaded having to act somewhat proper so the snobby parents around you wouldn’t undermine you. You took a quick millisecond to gather yourself before turning to face th-

Holy shit.

A blessing.You’ve been blessed. You can die happily now.

This man’s smile-

It’s shining. Blinding you and you do not care, he can have your eyesight.

Cue the slo-mo scene in the movies where everything looks ethereal and suddenly you picture him taking your hand, giving you flowers, and asking the same thing he just did in a softer more seductive tone.

AHaha but it’s not a movie so get yourself together you thirsty piece of flesh.

“Uh yeah, I am, her mom is away on business.” You said smiling, dying inside at the realisation that today was the day you decided to wear such a boring outfit.

Oof pain.

“Oh? I don’t recall Shannon saying she was going away,” He said furrowing his eyebrows, before staring at you,

YO SHIT IS HE CHECKING YOU OUT? HE’S CHECKING YOU OUT FOR SURE.

“nor that she would be leaving such a cute babysitter in her place.” He chuckles nonchalantly.

How is he so calm after saying that like it’s nothing??? Tf???

Fine, two can play this game sir.

“Well she didn’t tell me she was acquainted with such an attractive man either.”

That wasn’t the strongest comeback but like you're nervous okay?

He smiled at the remark, seemingly about to say something, only to be interrupted by his darling daughter.

“Daddy you have to buy something ya know!”

He let out a chuckle that you could only describe as handsome.

“Mhhmm! You too y/n” Nila said toward you with such bright eyes you couldn’t bother saying no. [as mentioned earlier, this cute kid has you weak.]

“Hmm okay you two, since you're all grown up, tell us the prices of your drinks.” You say egging the two girls on, to the man beside you’s amusement.

As the two little girls hurriedly tried to find the price list and decide who’s speaking first, Mr. handsome man turned to you.

“I like that name, Y/n,” He reached out his hand in front of him, “I’m Seonghwa. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Hehehehehehehe play it cool.

Daintely placing your hand in his and gently giving him a small squeeze as you do so, you let out:

“The pleasure is all mine.”

The two of you end up buying water bottles, him insisting that he pays for you so the girls have less to work out in terms of prices (apparently)

You greeted the girls, leaving them to attend to their shift, and discovered that Seonghwa was going to be here a while as well, in which the two of you concluded it would be a good idea to talk off the hours rather than wandering around alone.

You both wander around (a little awkwardly in silence mind you) until you find a table made to look like a wine barrel for a rustic vibe with two high chairs beside it. It matched the theme of this area which was made to be like an expensive barnhouse.

Now lemme tell you, water ain’t as classy as wine but that didn’t stop Seonghwa from calling over one of the workers serving cocktails, and asking for two empty wine glasses.

He then elegantly poured the water into both wine glasses.

“I suppose it’s too early to be drinking but never too early to stay hydrated in a classy way.” He said.

LMAO this guy has dad humour or very dry, dead humour.

You let out a genuine giggle since that was such a dorky thing to say.

“My peers would probably disagree with you as most of them pop out a beer by 9:05.”

“Yes of course, around your age, you don’t quite have the same responsibilities as I do.”

“Oh? Such as working and taking care of a kid? Because it would appear that I have to worry about that too” You replied cheekily even though you probably know he’s living a bit more of a tiring life by the way he spoke.

He let out a heavy sigh which you didn’t expect after your poor attempt of making the convo entertaining.

“Well yes that may be true, but at least you aren’t dealing with a toxic relationship - Only staying and sucking it up for the sake of your child.”

Oh. well that’s quite the share.

“I’m sorry to hear you're dealing with some hardships.” You utter out, genuinely sympathetic.

“But in my opinion, regardless of the child, you should make a decision that makes you happy. You can raise Yerim with no issue even when separated. Rather that, than letting her grow up in an unhappy home, no..? Then again what do I know?” You say while spinning the water in your glass as if it really was wine.

He paused while circling his pointer finger around the rim of his glass. His head resting on his other hand, seemingly in deep thought.

He looked towards you with an intense gaze. One that made you feel small and had your body urging you to run away. But it also captivated you, so you fought your body and held your breath instead to calm down the intimidation you were feeling.

His whole aura changed for some reason...

“You’re not wrong in what you're saying,” he leaned over the barrel, a little closer to you, “But what if the decision that makes me happy is looked down upon?” He said lowly, looking you up and down once again.

This shouldn’t make you nervous. In fact nothing could be considered remotely inappropriate and yet your breath was hitching and your stomach was churning.

Why? Why is this random man making you feel, for lack of better words, so weird.

Bad brain! Bad!

You must be looking too much into his words to think he could be insinuating something...right?

You wanted to back up a little, and lean away from him, feeling as though you needed to gather yourself, but as you leaned back the wine glass full of water was knocked over, splaying it’s contents over you.

The glass was saved, thankfully landing on some grass, protecting your wallet from a potential bill from the school or whoever owned this damned glass.

Your clothes and dignity however?

Can’t really say the same thing…

You stand up immediately picking up the glass and placing it on the table.

Only then do you tense up at the sudden coldness against your skin.

“Oh dear, are you alright, should I get you some paper towels or maybe a napkin?” Seonghwa stood up immediately at your side.

Even though this was painfully embarrassing and the looks you were getting from others didn’t help, you wanted to play it cool.

“No, no, don’t worry. I should’ve been more careful.”

You decided to look inside the little bag you had brought with you, trying to see if you have any sort of tissues with you.

What an awful day to be wearing a shirt that becomes somewhat transparent when wet…

As you're searching, you fail to realise just how transparent the shirt is, obliviously just trying to find an easy solution.

You may have been oblivious, but Seonghwa was not. He couldn’t help the large gulp he took as he saw the shirt stick to your skin, basically exposing anything underneath for everyone to see.

He had a few intrusive thoughts but he shook them off, instead, taking his jacket and placing it over you.

“What are-”

He takes your arm in his grasp and your bag in his other hand, leading you away from some of the snobby parents who had the audacity to still be looking at you in disgust because of your now ‘revealing’ shirt.

We don’t stan those parents alright?

Anyway he knows this school well and so he leads you towards a much more empty area and opens a door to what you’d assume is to be a guest restroom since it looked pretty fancy compared to the normal trashy bathrooms you see in highschools.

He placed your bag down onto the sink and locked the door behind him.

It wasn’t as small as a cubicle, but it was still a very small space to be in, not leaving much room to move around too much.

“Sorry, I just thought it would be more convenient if you cleaned and tried to dry up here.”

Oh? Well yeah this works you guess…

Then you see the mirror.

Cue heat rising to your cheeks and your breath hitching a little.

Oh that’s why he thought it would be a good idea…

Bro your torso is on display. Like, deadass.

Mental note: don’t wear white shirts and be a clumsy dumbass simultaneously in the future.

As you’re staring in the mirror in a small state of shock and further embarrassment, Seonghwa mindlessly grabs the towel next to the sink in the small cubicle, and tugs up your shirt a little bit so that he can place the towel on top of the wet mark a bit more easily.

Haha what?

It’s only when he notices that you’re extremely still, that he realises he shouldn’t just be wiping down a stranger’s shirt for them…

He immediately comes to a halt, while awkwardly glancing at you with the same slightly panicked expression that you held on your own face.

However, Seonghwa realised that, your face, flushed out a little, is frustratingly endearing to look at.

He almost felt the urge to just cradle your face in his hands right then and there...Maybe pulling you in closer

Mr. Park NO!

He shakes his thoughts away, immediately apologising, slowly retracting his arm.

But you know what your dumbass did?

Held his arm in place.

Yup.

You don’t know why, but it’s like your brain was straight out malfunctioning.

Body, actions, thoughts, rationality - all of it was not communicating with each other and you couldn’t logically explain your actions.

It just felt like maybe you should keep him there and let him take care of you, no matter how strange that may seem. It seemed right…

Either way this is just awkward and now there’s just so, so much tension.

The air is literally weighing on you a bit, especially since Seonghwa went silent after you instinctively grabbed his arm.

It was still, silent, and it felt as though if you moved, reality would break into pieces.

Dramatic way to explain the situation? Maybe. But it really did feel close to that.

“I uh...It’s okay. You can continue.” You let out shakily.

BRO WHAT ARE YOU SAYING OH MY GOSH. HE’S GOING TO THINK YOU’RE CRAZY.

I’m literally getting second hand embarrassment lmao, moving on.

He just adjusted his throat and gave a quaint nod before continuing what he was doing.

The issue was that now he was hyper focused on trying to not make any direct contact with your skin. His touches are so light, that it’s obviously ineffective, and you and him both know that, but no one wants to say anything.

He’s keeping his eyes glued to the wet patch on your shirt and as you look hopelessly at the soggy thing, you can’t help but let your eyes wander to his arms.

Holy shit his arms. You were already flustered, and now you have to sit still knowing his arms look so good? No way. It’s over for you.

His biceps bulged a little since it was bent, and the dress shirt he was wearing tightened around it, only accentuating how firm he was.

If he’s just that firm on his arms...Imagine what he’s like everywhere else…

Great… Now your feeling heat rush to more areas than just your cheeks.

Look away Y/n. Look away. Literally anywhere but there.

Ah yes, look at the ceiling.

You bit at your lip nervously, and in hopes that it would be a gentle reminder to restrain yourself from looking over at him.

“Can you-”

Your eyes meet his, and he darts his eyes elsewhere almost immediately.

He straightens himself up, letting go of your shirt and placing that hand now on the towel.

“Can you not bite your lip like that..?” He steals a glance at you before sighing.

“Ahem...Please.”

His ears are definitely a shade of pink and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Honestly you couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful and more confident knowing that you weren’t the only one being flustered here.

You felt like you could breathe a little now.

Maybe your brain did a 180 a bit too quickly, since now you decided to lean closer to him, ensuring that your head popped up within his eye view, which was predominantly the floor at the moment.

You tilted your head tauntingly.

“Why? Does it make you nervous?” You said with a playful undertone in your voice - the seemingly newfound confidence urging you on in your antics.

He let out a scoff, turning his head to the side in disbelief before turning his head to look at you with his eyebrows raised, ready to challenge you.

He now leaned closer, clearly asserting a dominant aura with a small smirk graced on his face.

“Trust me, if I wanted to see you wet, this situation would be a lot different.”

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit

That was unexpected.

No you won’t back down. You’ve been flustered too much today and you’re tired.

Game face: on.

There’s no time to let the wet shirt of yours get the best of you. It is now no longer your priority in this moment.

[A/N: let’s go Y/N, show ‘em what you got]

You saunter close to him, pushing your hands on his chest causing him to lean back into the wall.

“Is that so?” You chuckle, reaching for his tie, tugging at it a little, before busying yourself with tightening it and making it look a little neater.

“And in what ways, would that situation be different?” you uttered out in the most seductive voice you could muster.

You held back a smirk as his breath audibly hitched.

He found his hand, crawling to grip your hip. Pulling you a bit closer towards him - bodies just touching.

“Well for starters, you wouldn’t have a shirt that would be able to get wet in the first place.”

You flattened out the tie, coming to a halt, taking time to gaze at him.

“Oh? And why’s that?” You said lowly, acting dumb.

His grip tightened around your hip, finally pulling you into his chest.

The slight dampening of his shirt didn’t bother him as much as his urge to touch you more did.

“Because, Y/n,” He spoke, leaning in so that you could now feel his breath fan your lips,

“In an ideal situation, you and I would both be naked.”

#〘manga; writing✎ᝰ〙#ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #ateez reactions #ateez smut

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merrivia · 1 year

Note

Quite random, but what length hair do you think laurent has? Fanartists seem conflicted between luscious locks and sensibly short. My heart wants it to be long but my brain says otherwise lol

Ooh, let's get into it!

Explicit mentions of Laurent's hair in the books where we can guess at the length (I haven't done all of them!):

In Captive Prince, Ch 3:

“Damen looked down into Laurent’s face, the fair skin a little heat-flushed, the yellow hair wet at the tips"

Damen poured water over his shoulders and back. This suggests that his hair is long enough to just perhaps brush his shoulders, or for the splash of water there to reach the ends.

Ch 8:

“No jewellery except for a fine gold circlet on his brow that was mostly hidden by the fall of his golden hair.”

His hair is long enough to hide his circlet, which makes me feel he has a middle part and the two sides fall across his face. Bangs? Layers?

Ch 10

“Damen’s eyes lifted to the white column of his throat, and above that the golden hair, parting around the shell cup of an unjewelled ear.”

Hmm. Ambiguous, as to length. Suggests it's cut above the neck/throat though.

Ch 11:

“His body language was calm and respectful; the fall of his golden hair hid his expression.”

Again, long enough or layered so as to fall about his face.

Prince's Gambit: Ch 2

“Laurent turned his back on Damen calmly and waited. The lacing of Laurent’s brocade outer garment began at his nape, and ran in a single line all the way down his back. It was ridiculous to . . . fear this. Damen stepped forward. In order to begin unlacing the garment, he had to lift his fingers and brush to one side the ends of the gilt hair, soft as fox fur. ”

Laurent's hair covers his nape/back of the neck here...

King's Rising: Ch 12

“Damen lifted his hand, slid his fingers into the short, soft hair at the back of Laurent’s neck, cupping his head.”

So definitely trimmed shorter at the back by KR? I'm beginning to think Laurent took the time to get regular haircuts lol. Actually, considering they trimmed Damen's hair before Laurent released him, there are barbers on hand.

Okay, putting this all together...

Here's what I think Laurent's hair potentially looks like!

So after a haircut I think a combo of these two on the left. The length of the left would fit the 'soft short hair' at the back of his neck referenced in KR. But the two on the right also give a good feel for the the way his hair can fall infront of his face I think.

And here's a few more on what it could look like when it's grown out a little more. i'm especially fond of the top left, as I think that's the right texture for Laurent's hair, and a bit closer to his hair colour, but combined with the structure/layers of the others.

I think this length would hold true to Damen having to sweep his hair away a little from his nape or back of his neck to access his high necked clothing, while retaining the sense of layers. So probably this is what it looks like while they are their way to the border and have weeks where Laurent may not have had time or cared to have had regular trims?

It could also look like this when it grows out. Which is dreamy! And hopefully a little luscious?

Bonus:

Researching pics, this is quite close to my vision of Auguste I think:

No idea why it's skewed left, but there we go.

That was fun, thanks for the ask! 🌸

Edit: And I just found some reference pics to 14th century hair and well...just had to include them.

'f' in the last photo feels a bit Laurent-y 😂 Definitely gives you the feel of Laurent's extravagant hat in 'The Adventure of Charls the Veretian Cloth Merchant' 😂

#captive prince #laurent of vere #ask

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draclula · 7 months

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”Magic and Desserts”

lyney x f!reader

chapter 2

Author’s note: This chapter got very delayed for which I am very sorry. A lot of things have happened in my personal life and some technical problems popped up in the process of editing the second part. Also just started working on the 3rd chapter!

word count: 2.2k

“‘Lyney, the..’ no way.. THAT WAS LYNEY ‘THE’ MAGICIAN??” you try to keep your voice down but the surprises just keep coming. Your brother hanging his had in disappointment but still smiling. “You are a lost cause. How can you forget his face?” he asks, looking at you under his brows. “I have only seen him ONCE. But he DID look familiar.” you taunted yourself with the image of his face while getting the coffees on the serving tray. “He invited me to go and see their show this Saturday. Can I go?” you asked quietly. “Well, their shows are a big deal and a lot of people will most likely be there to watch it. Hm, it’s too early to say, let’s wait some more, okay?” his ‘deep-in-thought’ face was on display, turning around so he can see the customers. “Okay.”

Thru the remaining week, your mind was occupied with the show and it’s needless to say your spacing out caused you some burns here and there while making new desserts. It was obvious to, your older brother, Arouet that you wanted to go and what else would he do besides leg you go and watch it. Once again, it’s needless to say your face lit up. The only thing he did is ask for your instructions of how to serve your sweets to the customers. “And there should always be a flower on the right side facing you, remember?” you were teaching you older brother the right way to decorate them with dry edible flowers. “Is it that important?” he asked a bit confused with a sweat drop on his left cheek. “Well, the presentation is very important. It makes the customer more intrigued and-“ “Yea, yea I get it, it’s all manipulation of the mind and blah blah blah. Oh, look at the time, shouldn’t you be waiting for the Aqua bus already?” he cut you off and looked down at his watch. “Ah, you are right! Don’t forget how to tuck in the napkins!” you remind after taking your basked beside the inside counter and coat from the installed hanger near the door. “I won’t, now sho!” he yelled at you while crossing his arms and smiling warmly.

As Lyney peaked out behind the red velvety curtains to spy on his audience he noticed your place was still empty. A little sigh escaped his lips, but the show had to start soon and even if he wanted to - he couldn’t wait for you to show up much longer.

“Greetings, ladies and gentleman! This evening we are here to appreciate the great show that Lynye and Lynette have prepared for us!” the showman introduced the young twins and the curtains were going upstairs. Him and his sister were holding their arms together up in the air, chests puffed out and hands holding together in a lock. People were cheering and clapping loudly getting up from their seat, impatient as to what was awaiting them! And just then, in the middle of that chaos, your figure appeared on top of the staircase that was too, covered in a red coloured carpet. Even if nobody noticed, his eyes softened with relief. As you walked down, you were also looking around to find your seat. It was just right next to the steps. Quite convenient as you needn’t go through people’s seats and bother them with going right in-front of their view.

“Thank you, thank you! It’s our pleasure to have such pleasant people here to watch our magic show!” the audience died down now seated and waiting for what Lynye has to say. “I am sure you all know that a magician’s most recognisable feature is his hat.” he says, lifting his own hat up from his head “So I could like to start with showing you what a magician can fit..” he pats it on it’s bottom in attempt to make something fall from it “..into this tiny space. But first, so you can believe the reality of all this I will be needing an assistant that will be one of you” kids and adults started waving their hands and yell ‘Me! Me!’ to signal him that they wanted to participate. Lyney mimicked a ‘thinking hard’ face with his hand on his chin, squinted eyes and a pout, walking in circles around the stage. “Hmmmm, who should I choose? All of you look like worthy candidates!” he said thoughtfully and then his eyes landed on you, who was quietly sat. “Ah, why such a young lady not raising her hand! Aren’t you exited?” the magician questioned. Now all eyes of the auditorium were on you. “What do you all say, why don’t we show this young lady what a magic show is about?” he turned to the rest of the audience. Screams of excitement started to echo between the wall of Opera Epiclese, hyping you to go and take part in the show. You were nervous, but thought it could be rude to you refused so you got up from your seat and started making your way to the podium. “Everybody, please, let’s encourage her with applause!” and clap sounds filled the air. All of this made you more nervous and just as you started to walk up the stairs you tripped on the next step. Blush from embarrassment appearing on your cheeks, Lyney crouched down as to make sure you didn’t hit yourself, lending you a hand. “Now, now! We don’t want for you to get hurt!” he smiled softly, looking up, you grabbed his hand and he helped you up. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” he smiles at you, leading you to the centre of the podium “My name is [name].” you say quietly, smiling and facing him. “Alright [name], hold my hat.” he hands you his hat “Now look inside. Tell us, do you see anything inside?” you looked inside and it was empty “There is nothing in here.”. In the crowd there were people saying ‘Show us!’ so they were sure you weren’t lying. “Now Miss [name], show it to the audience so they can make sure too.” as he instructed you clasped it on the bottom and started to show the crowd turning it from the left to right and back to left. “Was there anything?” he asks again and everyone yells out a ‘NO!’ “Heh, sounds like I can show you the first trick then! Please hold the hat upside down.” you do as you are told. While you and everyone else were waiting he somehow managed to summon a magic wand in this hand by simply shaking it, he then bends down a little bit and gently did circles around the hat’s hole with it. “Hmm what were the magic words again?” he hums out, hand rubbing his chin, looking like he was in deep thought. Everyone started to laugh at his word, you cracked up a bit and laughed out loud too. “Shouldn’t a magician practice his magic before a show?” you ask him lightheartedly, still smiling, to which he responds with “Oh I did so many times but your beauty suddenly made me forget every single magic trick I know!” he winks a bit and cocks his head on the side. You blushed, wide eyed, not expecting this response.

While you were in shock he loudly remarked “Hmmm, ah yes! Alta Vola!” and suddenly 7 white doves flew out of his hat. One of them accidentally hit you with it’s wing on your face, which caused you to drop the hat to hold where the dove had hit you. When his cylinder hat hit the floor a rabbit came crawling out of it! Lynette started to run after it to catch the fluffy animal. The whole audience started to laugh not expecting this to happen. “Oh no, Miss [name], are you alright? Here have a napkin!” he theatrically said and started to go thru his pockets, all of a sudden, he started to pull out a tin rope from one of them. One, two, tree pulls and still no napkin was found but only rope came out. “Uhh, could you mind to help me?” Lyney looked at you with a pleading look on his face, “Of course.” you took the rope in one hand and still held your face with the other. You tugged on it as he started to walk backwards. Then the rope has finally come out completely, there was something tied on it. He picked it up, untied it and neatly showed it to the audience. It was a napkin and on it was his face with the tongue out. Laughter erupted again in the air, even you’ve forgot about the hit that dove have you. He then folded it, clasped your hand and put it in yours “Here. Take it as a gift, no need to bring it back to me.” Lyney smiled sweetly, it almost made you blush from his gentle touch on your hand. “You may now take your seat, thank you for participating in these tricks!”

After the magic show you were waiting for a meet up for them. It took them a while to showed up. “Hey, Lynette ‘n’ Lyney!” you greeted, happily and a bit nervous to see them face to face. “I am sorry if I caused you some trouble during them show.” you clutched your basket’s handle. “Don’t worry, there was nothing wrong you did.” Lynette reassured, “If anything, I think you made the show even better! I just hope the dove didn’t hit you in your eye, did it do so?” worry could be heard in her brother’s voice. “Ah, no it didn’t hit me in the eye, just below it.” you even pointed where exactly and if they looked really hard there would be seen a little red spot. Now trying to gather some courage to keep the conversation going you started to play with the handle of your basket. “And also..” putting it down on the table, you started to rummage thru it and held out to them two things in your palms “I have made you some desserts. It’s Lynette’s favourite type of mousse, but I hope you like it too, Lyney.” you handed it to them carefully and with a little awkward smile. “Thank you, [name].” Lynette said now fascinated by your thoughtfulness and carefully observing the dessert. “Oh, [name], thank you! You shouldn’t have, really.” Lyney looked surprised at your gift, not really expecting it. “Maybe I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help myself. I really hope you like it.” you said, embarrassed a little if it was really uncalled for to bring them dessert. Now it will be even more embarrassing to ask them to return the complex design, crystal-glass, dessert bowls whenever they could. But as per always, the male twin observed them and asked you right after “These bowls look very beautiful. I suppose you use them at the caffe?”. Honestly his sharpness made you question if he read your mind but answer the question “Yes I did them yesterday after we closed. We rarely use them and I decided that it would be nice to put them at use.” gentle smile appeared on your face thinking of it. Lynette, while the two of you were talking, actually have already started her mousse (she pulled out a little spoon she always carries around for special occasions like this one) and enjoying it quite a lot as she listed to you.

Some time has gone by. You and Lyney were talking about different topics and simply didn’t notice how late it have gotten. During one of your sentences, you happened to yawn and when your eyes were finally not looking at him, you noticed how the sky got dark blue. Your stunned expression shifted to one of worry really fast after realising you might have missed your Aqua Bus. Lyney noticed that but before he could speak, you were looking at your pocket watch “Oh no, I am going to miss the Aqua Bus!”. In panic, you jumped up all of a sudden, looking around to gather your things. Lyney also arose from his seat, looking around to help you with something but you were ready and started to run towards the big doors at the Opera Epicles. Already out and about to get on the bus, Lyney shouted for you from the entrance of the Opera “[name]!”. Your head snapped back and looked at him, his gaze now was softer “Thank you for today.”. His warm smile made you calm down. “Today was wonderful..” you said, smiling widely, now that you recall everything from today. Quickly, you began to climb up the stairs of the Aqua bus. The boy stared at you, as if he was in a trance. The bus started to move and you looked back to check if he was still there and surely he just stood there. You raised your hand to wave him goodbye, the force of the wind behind you, making your hair gently fly around. Lyney raised his and waved back. He stood there, his arm slowly falling down to rest. Lynette was standing far behind him and observed everything, but now she was slowly making her way to her brother. Standing on his left she eyed him to see his expression. Just as she expected- he was blushing, eyes big and lips slightly parted. A little huff left her and after a second she spoke “You are a lost cause.”

Tag list (open): @swivy123

#fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney #lyney x y/n #genshin impact x reader #lyney x you #lyney x f!reader #magic and desserts

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skinnyducky · 2 years

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best night ever // v.h.

a/n contrary to what you might think reading this, this isn’t a 1950s au. i’m just a whore for diner culture. n e ways, i hope you all enjoy this one. it’s got a bit of a sad start but i think you guys will be pleased with the ending (or at least i hope so). AND i am so happy to be posting again. i felt like i was neglecting you guys for a min there, but i’m here n i can’t wait to post more n see what my mutuals post n yada yada... now back to our regularly scheduled program :))))

vinnie hacker x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k, edited

WARNING: language, y/n being stood up, and i think that’s all.

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"Hey kid, you ready to order now?"

Y/n pursed her lips, taking her eyes off the half-empty milkshake to look up at the smiling waitress. "No, not yet. Still waiting on someone." She replied, giving the waitress a weak grin. The older woman nodded, sending the teenage girl an apologetic look before moving over to the next booth.

It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten that look tonight. She got it from the elderly couple a few tables down, one from the cook behind the diner counter, and another from a kid dressed as Cinderella—which hurt the most out of all of them.

The more time passed, the more she felt like an idiot; an idiot for believing someone like Ryan Sanchez would even be interested in her. He was Mr. Popular, a star baseball player. Hell, he drove a Porsche, for crying out loud. He was way out of Y/n’s league, and regardless of whether or not he was the one to ask her out, she was a fool for even thinking he was serious.

Glancing down at her phone screen, Y/n felt a pang in her heart as she looked at the time. It had now been an hour, and it was clear that Ryan wasn’t coming. She started contemplating if she should leave or if she should stay. If she left, maybe she’d still have a little bit of dignity left. But if she stayed, she might be able to get a free meal if someone felt bad enough. In the end, she decided that leaving would be the best option. She just needed to keep her head high and wait until she got into the car to start crying.

Waving her hand frantically in the air, the waitress acknowledged her, mouthing, "one minute" before she continued taking orders for the family of four.

While waiting, Y/n listened to the sweet melody of Billie Holiday’s "Easy Livin’" mixed with the dings from the bell of the diner entrance. Since she was fairly close to it, she watched as people passed in and out, all wearing giddy expressions. That’s what Freckles’ Diner will do to you. Some of the locals call it "magic," but it was just a rumor. However, rumor or not, Y/n wasn’t feeling it at all.

With her eyes still on the entrance, one stranger in particular caught her attention. She didn’t catch his face since he was quick in moving up to the counter, but there was something about him that felt familiar. Was it the lengthy locks or curls peeking out from under his hat? Could it be his well-sculpted back that showed from his form-fitting black t-shirt? It wasn’t until her eyes landed on the guy’s snake tattoo that she realized this wasn’t just any guy.

"Vinnie?"

The boy turned around, and his face lit up the second he laid eyes on her. "Hey, Y/n!"

Vinnie and Y/n were quite the pair. The two had grown up together, their moms being childhood friends and whatnot. Contrary to what most believed, their relationship was merely platonic. Well, except for that one time when they gave each other their first kiss. Then there was that time when Y/n developed a light crush on him after he walked her home when the cops came and ruined Sally Matthews’ rager of a party. But that’s just what friends do, right?

"What are you doing here?" She laughed, watching as he sat down across from her in the ruby red booth. "You picking up something for the fam?"

"Nah, I had been craving chicken tenders all day and decided to stop by and pick some up on my way home from work." He then nodded towards Y/n. "What about you? What brings you here on this fine Friday night?"

As much as Y/n didn’t want to share with him the fact that she’d been stood up, he was her best friend. He’d find out sooner or later. "I’m on a date. Well, at least I’m supposed to be on a date, but I think the other person would have to be here in order for it to be considered as such."

"Wait, you’re joking." Vinnie gasped. "Don’t tell me you got stood up. By who?"

"Your teammate," answered Y/n.

"Was it Jeffery?"

Y/n shook her head.

"Nick?"

Once again, Y/n shook her head.

"What about Tyler? He’s a bit of a dumbass, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he forgot."

"No," Y/n replied. "It wasn’t Jeffery, or Nick, or Tyler. It was Ryan."

"Ryan Sanchez?" Vinnie nearly gagged while saying his name. "You were supposed to be on a date with that dickwad?"

Y/n agreed. "Yes, but obviously he didn’t show up."

"That’s because he’s with Angel."

"Wait huh? What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, he told us after practice that he was going over to Angel’s house to hang out. He didn’t say anything to us about going on a date or anything." Vinnie explained.

Y/n felt her heart sink even lower. Now, Ryan did say he’d be a few minutes late, but he never mentioned why. While she wanted an explanation, Y/n felt it best not to pry in case it was something serious. But to find out he was with some other girl while she was sitting here waiting on his ass, made her feel so much more pathetic.

She threw her head back and let out a loud groan. "This night just keeps getting better and better. I swear I’m such a fucking idiot."

"What? How are you an idiot?"

"I’m the idiot because I thought I actually had a chance with him," Y/n said. "I spent an entire hour trying to figure out what to wear, doing my makeup, and hyping myself up just for this to be the worst night of my entire life."

Just as Vinnie was about to respond, the waitress came wandering up to the table. "Are you ready for the check now, kid?"

"Ye—"

"Actually, can we get another strawberry milkshake? Also, I would like a basket of chicken fingers with extra fries." Vinnie ordered. He paused for a moment and looked over at Y/n. "And for her, the classic bacon cheeseburger, well-done with no pickles and extra bacon."

Y/n sat there both in shock and confused. "What the hell is he doing?" she thought to herself.

"Will that be all," questioned the waitress.

"Yes ma’am."

The waitress slipped her pen into her apron pocket and went on to give the cook the order. The second she left, Y/n looked over at Vinnie. "Why’d you do that, Vin? I was about to take the check."

"Because you deserve better, Y/n."

The girl bit back the urge to smile, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "You’re my best friend. You’re forced to say that."

"But I truly mean it," he replied. "You shouldn’t feel like an idiot because some asshole decided to go get his dick wet. If anything, he’s the idiot. He’s the one who missed out on a date with the most amazing, most beautiful, and most caring girl in the world."

At this point, Y/n was so hot in the face that her cheek could melt an igloo. Something about Vinnie’s words just plucked all the right strings. She didn’t know if it was because he was her best friend or if it was her feelings playing tricks on her, but whatever it was, it completely rid her of all the hurt she had felt moments prior.

"Vinnie, I—"

"Shush." He laughed, reaching over and taking her hands into his. "Look, it’s alright if you don’t want to stay. You can take the burger and go, I won’t be mad. But I would like you to stay. I just wanna fix what that asshole broke. I wanna give you the best night of your life if you’ll let me."

Y/n let out a soft sigh as she allowed herself to smile. "Okay."

"For real?" Vinnie nearly leaped out of the booth.

"For real."

With that, the pair sat and chatted, talking about everything from school to family life and even delving into topics like manatees and other sea critters. And as they sat there, enjoying themselves, Y/n couldn’t help but think about how this night would’ve gone if Ryan had shown up. Would she be this happy? Would she be laughing this much? Would her heart be beating at a ridiculous speed? The answer was no, none of that would’ve happened because Ryan is just a placeholder. He’s the guy you giggle about with your friends, the one before the one. He’s not someone you stick with for the long run. Now Vinnie…Vinnie was more than that. He’s the guy you take home to meet your parents, the one you take cute prom pics with, the ideal high school sweetheart. And as Y/n listened to him go on and on about his dog, Poncho, she couldn’t help but envision a future with him. He was more than just the one. He was forever.

It was nearing ten when the teenagers stumbled out of Freckles, both hysterical from the joke Vinnie had just said.

"You’re hilarious," Y/n chuckled, wiping away a stray tear. "I, uh, I had fun tonight. Thank you for this, really. It means more to me than you know."

"No problem. I’m just happy to see a smile on your face."

As the two awkwardly stood there, Y/n jingled her keys in the air. "I should probably get going. I know my mom is going to want to hear all about how my date went tonight."

"Cool, cool. Tell her I said ‘hi.’"

"I will, and make sure you send my greetings over to the other Hackers too."

"For sure." He smiled. "Maybe, um, we could do this again? Maybe Monday after school?"

"Yeah, I’d like that."

"Cool, well…I’ll see you."

"See you."

As Y/n hurried to her car, she couldn’t help but look behind her, finding Vinnie violently fist pumping the air.

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tag list: @barbietiingz @hwrteye

#vinnie #Vinnie Vincent #vinnie imagine #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker x you #vincent hacker #vhackerr #tiktok imagine

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floral-moon-light · 6 months

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QSMP Philza update, go watch the Wednesday the 25th and Friday 27th updates if you don't want to be spoiled.

Nothing really major happened Wensday, philza went exploring for a bit after getting on to see if there was more black concrete, which there was.

He then spawns in his Minime who he later names Little Twat (not a joke).

Then he spends an hour and a half with Fit and Tubbo talking to the new Cururucho AI at spawn, occasionally getting flirted at, told stuff that could not be true and such, and trying to exploit the AI.

They then went to lucky duck before returning to spawn because Tubbo needed to get his minime Kitkat back after it randomly disappeared. So a random fed. worker came, had Tubbo dance then Phil got board and decided to work on leveling his minime, leading him to dig down under spawn to tr and find iron I believe leading him to drop down into a massive wold edit hole. Cucurucho then joins Phil stares at the strange area before giving Phil a quest to build an aquarium.

Phil then went off to gather materials and mobs for the aquarium, was joined by Fit for a while before Fit leaves, after which Phil spends a few minutes exploring before returning to spawn near the nino to "build the aquarium," if you count an outdoor aquarium with 5 tanks and no other infrastructure. However it counted so Cucurucho have Phil his requested building block rainbow glass or at least the components for it. Phil then went to gather sand for the glass, spent time looking at glitched terain for an hour or so. After which he headed home, hat a none cannon chat with BadBoyHalo and Royer about whether the Brazil or Vagus trips were better, before Phil went off to do a few cores before getting off for the day at the nest.

Friday had some lore happen, but it was nothing major or egg related. If anything it related back to the bird cage with the "wise crow" comment.

To give a better flow of events, Phil woke up, decided to work on upgrading his now 2 mini me's, affectionately called Little Twat, and Little Shit (normally, I would censor a curse, but the name is the curse word so...). With Little Shot asking for a weird mushroom (twice.). After doing some of the Minime quests he went home, had an existential crisis due to the black concrete at his face spreading, then went inside to check the message chest, finding nothing. Then while doing further checks he found strange vines on the inside walls of Tallulah's seed garden, which he followed to the back wall to find a picture of a skull with vines on it and a book asking if Phil remembers his time before the server and promising help.

Side note, I personally want to say that that is Kristen, the goddess of death, trying to communicate with him. It seems to out of place to be the federation, and with how different Phil's ticket is from the rest it has to point to outside interference. And one of Kristen's main ways of talking with Phil previously when lore related back to his wife revolved around crows. So her leaving a critic crow book? Seems plausible.

Plus, sleep is often described as the line between life and death.

Phill took some pictures then called Fit to come see, with Pac joining along, only for when Phil brought them to the area of the message to find it gone like it was never there and all his proof gone. This sent Phil into a minor panic that he tried to brush off, even though booth Fit and Pac believed Phil had seen something.

To get his mind off that, Phil joined Pac and Fit's dungeon crawl, during which he lost his shield, before the group separated after completing the odd triple dungeon with Phil exploring a bit to find materially to replace his shield, followed by minime item collection, a brief dungeon raid, raiding egg backpacks to get the means to get a minime item (a type of mushroom), before he goes hole, does a brief check of stops the eggs loved, ended up back at the dream spot, before going home and getting off.

Also, on the 29th, two messages's appeared on the QSMP Twitter involving the 4th, one involves the train station, one seems to involve Cheyanne.

No clue what it means, other then something happening November 4th.

Good night all.

#qsmp philza #qsmp lore #qsmp #qsmp fitmc #qsmp tubbo #qsmp pac #qsmp mini me #qsmp cucurucho #The wise crow

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captainmera · 8 months

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Hey Mera I wanted to ask a question about IBWR. Don't know if you've answered this before but what helped inspired the designs for theo and oliver? Like the clothes they wear and their actual physical looks

*gasp!* Thank you for asking!

So a lot of thought actually went into these two goobers hahaha! But mostly, it has been about duality/opposites.

BODY TYPES:

Theodore: He's wealthy and doesn't have to walk far distances. He also enjoys the typical upper-class foods that were popular at the time. Which were rich in carb and protein. So he's chubby! :)

Not only does this softness reflect his wealth and comfortable lifestyle, it also reflects that he, as a person, is soft.

He may dress smartly and use fashion to present himself as both sleeker and fitter than he is. His personality is a pretence hyper masculinity (like his suits) to cover up how gentile and somewhat flamboyant he actually is.

Side note: I am actually rather bad at drawing chub without it looking like stiff muscle mass. I'm still working on that.

Theodore likes how he looks, he is confident and carries himself like a born gentleman with something to prove. Chest out and chin high.

His curly blonde hair and green eyes and Cheshire grin are all family traits of the Ashdown family. It makes them look more like witches, with curly flirtish hair, deep mystic eyes and smiles that lie the way you'll like it. Witches are hard to resist, but nobody likes them. They bask in sin, and who doesn't want to be tempted now and then?

Oliver: He's poor, he doesn't eat very well, he's active and practically runs everywhere. He's skinny to a fault, he exerts more energy than he consumes. This is not healthy. He works out, he climbs buildings and gets into trouble and he knows how to fight (cus he had to). He is fit. Now, he may look chiseled like an adonis statue, but this is not strength. He is just low on body fat. He is tired a lot for a reason.

He is muscular looking, but his strengths are in being able to outlast and run. He can fight, sure, but he prefers to just run.

His blue eyes... It's almost like he can see things that aren't there.. Blue like the past, blue like the veil. There are many cultures all over the world who associate blue eyes with the supernatural or something evil. If you want to know more about it I would direct you to look up the blue evil eye and superstitions about blue eyes. :)

His dark pointy hair is in stark contrast with Theodore's curly blonde.

Unlike Theodore, who unbashfully enjoys himself, Oliver cares very little about himself and can't really see what others see. It even makes him a bit nervous to talk about his looks due to a previous toxic relationship as well as some.. awful things. He has to be drunk to be physical.

FASHION:

and that's just pinterest---

listen okay I could be here all day.

But the gist of it is this:

Theodore: Rich bitch strut your stuff you bisexual idiot. He likes details and fashion and embroidery. He likes to sew and he likes to tailor his own things. Sewing is considered feminine if it's not your profession, especially if you're upper class. But Theodore, despite himself, sews and edits and wears what he's made. So any compliment he gets on his fit, or insult, he takes very personally. The guy has an ego that is just as much a mask as it is a genuine source of confidence. What he wears is an extension of himself, he wants to be free and fashion helps him express himself, both openly and in secret ways. He dress in codes. But every coat and jacket he has, has an inline pocket for his wand to carry around. Perfumes, rings, brooches, a cane, silken hats and beaver hats, gloves of every sort and-- look he got style and he's in with it.

Oliver: Good god baby please wear something else. He wears things he's bought second hand, his jacket is from 1872s (it's 1885 in the story), he rotates between five shirts and like.. three vests. One vest being sundays best. Basically, everything he owns is old or doesn't fit him. He rarely spends money on himself and he's oblivious (and too depressed) to know or care about his looks. The guy has no confidence and his opinion of himself is reflected on what he wears. Oliver's idea of dressing up a bit is to tie a nicer scarf around himself into a tie rather than the flimsy blue knot he does. Oliver always carry a small book and something to draw with. When he's out about in London he likes to perch upon things, or squat where he wont be bothered, and draw. He also stuff his inner pocket with dry lavender from work to mask the smell of dead from work. Unwittingly to him, it also helps keeping spirits from noticing him.

Now, wouldn't it be lovely if Theodore got to dress Oliver up. :) Y'know, just to give Oliver a glimpse of how he sees him.

it would prooooobably go something like this:

"Oh, no, no." Said Theodore and let his hand flutter about. "That's not what style is. That's just fashion. Now, STYLE, my dear..." He grinned and circled Oliver in the way that made Oliver anticipate a tickle. And there it was, the poke. "Style is something you carry in you. You got style, but you have no sense of fashion. I will bring you the fashion, and I promise you will see what I mean." "I doubt it." Oliver smiled faintly. "But if it will humour you." "Oh, you have no idea." So Oliver let him. It wasn't what he thought it would be; Theodore didn't throw things at him. He asked him to touch the materials of each garment in his wardrobe. Asked what colours he liked. He held up some ties next to his face to compare the shade with his tone, his eyes and hair. Some were discarded right away and others made Theodore delightfully ooh and aah. Oliver would be lying if he wasn't having a little bit fun. Theodore pinned in the waist of the trousers, no suspenders or buckles. "it will just wrinkle it." Theodore muttered. "There shan't be any wrinkles or creases on my watch. And, oh, your hair. Let me just- just a little." "Alright." Oliver chuckled and sat down to let Theodore do what he liked. Oliver, finally, stood dressed and looked down at himself. Everything fit him and the shoes were shiny, but he still couldn't see what Theodore meant. "I don't see it." "Well, you're not looking yet." Theodore brought to the mirror. And Oliver saw himself. He had to blink a few times, he didn't recognise himself. And as if his very soul slapped him in the back, Oliver stretched himself up proper, tilted his head and brushed a hand over his chest. "Do I.. Really look like that? You didn't put a hex or something on the mirror or..?" "No hex, just you. And yes, you really do look like that.. All the time in my eyes." And Oliver's lips twisted into a shy smile. "You jest." "Not about style." Theodore nudged. "Style is serious business." And grinned his iconic mischief smile.

#ibwr #in blood we rise #*SIGHS AT MY BOYS*#GOOOODDSS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I THINK ABOUT THEM ALL THE TIME #Wrote a lil.. blurb at the bottom because...#listen okay my head is filled with scenes like these and I have nowhere to PUT THEM #*cries and punches a wall* I love my lads so much.

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johnslittlespoon · 24 days

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It just makes so much sense that you were writing in 2013, you have the unhinged vibe that the golden fics from that era had.

I'm just here to compliment you really lol, mostly because I am giving a try to write a lil something for the first time and god I can only dream of ever being able to write as good as you. I've been writing poems and music for years now but i find writing actual coherent storys with characters and dialogue so so hard.

I was wondering if you have any tips, or like little rules you follow when you write.

all the love, xxx

🌷

I'M GONNA CRYYYY this was the sweetest thing in the world to wake up to wtf wtf <333 thank you SO much, i really appreciate this wahh my heart :'))) but also you are SILLY. don't compare yourself to others!! if we all did that constantly we'd never get anything written!! there are SO many authors i adore on here that will always have me chasing the "i wish i could write like that" feeling and it's a great motivator but alsooo at the end of the day. you gotta fall in love with your own words and characters and stories <33

and i feel that so much!! we are twinsss, i also started out writing poems and music and then realized i had stories i wanted to tell that wouldn't fit in shorter form, then discovered fanfic in middle school in the early '10s and it was all downhill from there LOL. truly such a golden era tho oh my god. growing up reading the hat fic and borderline illegible wattpad stories was certainly... formative!

yapping ahead vv (i don't have much advice bc i'm still just learning as i go but hopefully some stuff i picked up on can be a bit helpful!)

i have zero method to the madness when writing so it's a relief to know it doesn't come off that way LOL but i do have a few little things that i follow and i always look for them when beta–ing as well! they're pretty small technical things and they're generally up to personal preference, but some of them come from authors i admire and i think they can really take anyone's writing up a notch <3

i don't feel qualified to give advice because i'm just raw–dogging everything lmao i've never taken classes or anything, so take all this yapping with a grain of salt bc it's just what's worked for me!

– i try to use descriptors like "the man" or "the blond" or "his friend" etc sparingly. i wish i could remember the source, but i read a great piece about why it's better to just go with the character's name 99% of the time, and then i went through so many of my works to edit them and i felt so much more confident in my writing afterwards– it made a big difference in readability (imo).

ofc there are exceptions, like if the name of a character is unknown, or if there are too many names being thrown around in one sentence and a "the man" or "the soldier" etc just sits nicer. i definitely still use them occasionally! but it does sometimes put some distance between the reader and the story when those descriptors are used too often instead of names, so it's a good thing to keep an eye out for when it comes to flow. sometimes less or more or whateva ??

– sorta on the topic of less is more, i love challenging myself to show vs tell when i can! whether it's by keeping dialogue short and letting actions speak instead (can add to intimacy/realism– we communicate so much through body language yk), through metaphors (literally how my whole '#john egan is dog coded' fic was born LOL), or describing feelings rather than spelling them out (his heart ached vs he was sad, his pulse raced vs he was scared, you get the gist). you said you've been writing poems so i feel like stuff like that would already probably come easily to you tho! <3

– this guide on ao3 is great for smut writers! whether someone's a beginner or just looking for ways to elevate the filth, i found it really helpful, it's a fun read as well lol. it calls out stereotypes/cliches and teaches you how to reword them, gives lists of slang and reactionary words, do's and don't's, etc. i don't follow everything in it but that's the beauty of writing; we all have things that work for us and things that don't and that's so okay. :-)

– in the same way that artists use references to practice and find their style, you can do that with writing too! i know a lot of writers have a doc or note where they jot down stylistic things they find while reading that they'd like to emanate, or words they want to use, specific phrases, descriptors, etc. if i'm reading a fic and find an auditory descriptor i like, i might take note of it, stuff like that. sorta like a text document version of a pinterest board!

– thesaurus.com is my best friend truly. often going with the 'simplest' version of a word makes for smoothest reading so someone isn't taken out of the story being like wtf does that word mean lol but sometimes things can feel repetitive, or like there just needs to be a little bit more spice; i probs go back and forth btwn my doc and thesaurus a dozen times an hour tbh.

that's all i can think of rn and ik those are pretty basic so i'm sorry about that!! i really do just kinda write what evokes emotions in myself, and then i hit post and hope it translates over to whoever is reading too :') drawing from your own experiences if you can/really sitting with what the characters would be feeling in whatever scenario you're writing is probably the most powerful way to present what you see in your mind.

i have a hard time writing about emotions/things i haven't personally experienced, so i usually stray away from it out of fear of not getting across what i want to, but some people are great at winging it and putting themselves in unfamiliar shoes so!! it's again just personal preference really.

and alsooo be kind to yourself! i'm an anxious wreck every time i post any of my writing, i am very much not confident when posting new fics and i agonize over my docs so much and trash a lot of works, but i know at the end of the day i can't grow or learn if i don't get the words down, and i can't get feedback or gain confidence if i don't post. becoming your own hype man and giving yourself the opportunity to improve is essential <33

sooo much love and best of luck!!! lmk if you end up writing smth, i'd love to read it (◠‿◠✿)

#also tentatively offering beta services to mota/sb moots bc i love helping w fics <33 hmu #if i am not super busy i am SAT #this got so long WHOOPS so sorry anon #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon yaps

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imaginatorcreates · 1 year

Text

Hold On, If Love Is The Answer, You're Home

09 May 2023 — 11 May 2023

Summary: The Neighborhood is beloved by each other, especially by a little necromancer. How far will he go for them?

Word Count: ~5.1k words

TW: Talks of death and corpses, and a mild bit of blood. This fanfic is based on a horror project, so just be warned overall.

Author's Note: The hyperfixation that this project has on me is strong. I chugged this out in 2 days. This is a Fantasy AU that was inspired by Discord chats about D&D and Welcome Home's cast. The cast are all living, breathing, bleeding creatures here.

Yes, the title is from "Touch" by Daft Punk. Yes, I listened to cottagecore playlists while making this. This is now my longest fic to date.

I'd also like to thank @/isleofair for helping me edit this! Your comments will forever feed my soul.

If there was one thing that was clear among the large adventuring party, filled with all sorts of beings from different lineages and backgrounds, it was that they stuck together through thick and thin. Despite everyone’s differences, they all somehow melded together into a coherent and admirable group. The Neighborhood, they called themselves. Certainly, they acted like good neighbors would, bound together like a family.

When they entered a town, eyes always swiveled towards the party. Whispers floated around and through them as people wondered about them. Where were they from? How did they meet each other? How many of them, hypothetically, were willing to stay behind for another? Conversations related to the latter topic usually died down when the flash of a metal ring around two of the party’s fingers became visible or when a quick peck on the cheek was exchanged, but they would almost always start up again when eyes became locked onto a voluminous blue pompadour.

There was something about that being with the pompadour. Maybe it was his perpetual half-lidded eyes, covered in eyeshadow that feathered outwards into his skin. Maybe it was his easy-going grin, one that seemed to always be on his face as he walked among his party members. Maybe it was his short stature, making him seem so much more precious. Maybe it was the way he interacted with his neighbors, going along with them as they talked with him, with nothing but a quick yelp as he was dragged along to explore.

This time, the party had walked into town for a quick shopping trip, but had instead gotten dragged into the festivities. After hearing from the citizens that they had to stay over for the big bonfire at the end of the day, The Neighborhood decided to book a few rooms at a local inn, if only to celebrate with the town (and for a moment of relaxation for themselves).

“Wally! Look at this!”

Wally looked up from his spellbook, its pages more so covered in doodles and artistic renditions of how to cast spells rather than written notes like most others might expect. He felt a hand gently place something on his head. His field of vision became smaller as the object atop his head shifted. A giggle rang in his ears as he blinked in confusion.

“D’aww! It suits you!”

Wally closed his spellbook and fixed the wide-brimmed hat so he could properly see. His eyes locked with Julie’s, a big grin painted on the taller horned girl’s face. “Really neighbor?” he asked, his voice soft and monotonous.

Julie rapidly nodded her head and shook her hands in excitement. “Yeah! Doesn’t our wizard need a hat fitting for his profession?” She reached over and adjusted the hat for Wally, balancing it so it wouldn’t fall yet not ruin his pompadour. “Now you look like a real wizard!”

“Oh, I see.” He rolled his eyes upwards as far as they would go in an attempt to look at the hat atop his head, but to no avail. “Was I not a real wizard before this hat?”

“Nooooo,” Julie said in a sing-song tune. “But you look more wizardly now! Oh! I have to find Frank and Eddie now! I found some things for their anniversary!” The sorcerer gave Wally a big hug before she ran off into the crowd, the occasional shriek from others being the only indicator that she was halfway to throwing caution to the wind.

Wally watched her retreat for a minute before removing the hat — Oh! It had a pointy top! And were those silver stars on the dark fabric too? — and placing it back on the stand. He looked around the crowd before slowly walking in a random direction. Maybe he’d run into some of his neighbors like he did with Julie.

He had already seen Howdy haggling the prices down on certain supplies that “were overpriced as hell!” He had almost never heard the quad-armed neighbor sound so irritated, and a soft smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t as if Howdy couldn’t just steal the supplies away, but he instead chose to pay fairly. “From one businessman to another, I endorse being civil about it,” he said when Sally asked him one day.

Poppy, on the other hand, easily accepted the prices given to her for healing potions. The easily-frightened avian of The Neighborhood said that after she collected enough healing supplies, she would be in the inn’s kitchen helping out with baking. “If there’s something that helps me relax a little, it’s when my feathers are covered in flour and the smell of freshly baked goods are coming from the oven.” Wally certainly found the baking process delightful to watch, and could feel the anxiety that normally radiated off their cleric fade away as careful measurements turned into a delectable dessert.

If he remembered correctly, Sally was also in the inn. The goal of the little star of a performer was to write out the script for her next big play, which was the party’s free pass to staying in the inn if it was well-received. She had wanted to share the story of their latest adventure, as fully embellished as she possibly could; laying out the characters and the setting, bringing it to life first on paper, then with her neighbors the next morning. She was originally conflicted about it, as she wished to explore the bustling market with the others. However, the promise of licking the mixing spoons and getting first dibs on the baked goods seemed to convince her to stay. At how quickly her quill flew over parchment at that agreement, Wally couldn’t help but think that she was probably already done by now and keeping Poppy company.

Frank and Eddie were most likely browsing the market together. It was a bit of a surprise when outsiders first laid eyes upon the married couple. Frank with his perpetual frown, furrowed unibrow, and almost endless knowledge on Lepidoptera, was happily married to Eddie? Eddie, who always seemed to have a polite smile on his face and had trouble remembering certain things? It could be hard to believe at first. But the soft looks, gentle kisses, and quiet understanding between the couple was undeniable. Eddie had all the power in his body to easily down a fully armored person, but also had the gentleness of a butterfly as he folded spare parchment into complex shapes for his neighbors. Frank’s exterior could be described as spiky as the thorns he could conjure from the ground, yet out of everyone, Julie was the one who first romped freely through it without a care in the world.

“Hey buddy!” a deep voice lazily called out.

Wally shook himself out of his thoughts and craned his neck upward. His grin widened and his pace quickened. After a few bumps into others, he was considered close enough for his bestest friend Barnaby to reach out, slip his large hands under his armpits, and gently throw the wizard into the air before wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

“Barnaby! Hello my friend,” Wally said as he rested his cheek against the other’s shoulder. It was damp, and a familiar wet dog scent entered Wally’s nose. “Oh, neighbor. What happened to you?”

Barnaby chuckled and shrugged with minimum movement so as not to disturb the party’s wizard so much. “Oh, just got caught in the butt end of a joke. ‘M not hurt Walls, promise.” He pressed his short snout against Wally’s shoulder and let out a throaty rumble of content.

Wally nuzzled into Barnaby’s shoulder at this show of affection. His grin softened when he saw how fast Barnaby's tail was wagging. It took everything in him to not drop his spellbook on the ground. He willed his fingers to stay curled tight around the spine, willed his grip to not go limp like the rest of him every time he was embraced in a hug.

“How have you been? Did you find anything nice?”

“Oh, not really.” Wally's tone might’ve reflected discontent over this situation from how monotonous it sounded, but the pair had been friends for long enough that Barnaby could read his friend easily. The combination of a sigh and the willing lean into the hug (however that may be like for the smallest being) led to there being no need to worry.

“Ahh, it’s alright buddy.” Barnaby released Wally from his tight hug and set him back on his feet. “I found a joke book written by an up-and-coming comedian here. Some of the jokes are pretty funny.” A grin slid onto his face and an eyebrow quirked upwards as he asked, “Do you wanna hear a few?”

Wally nodded. “I always love hearing your jokes Barnaby. They’re the most.” He slowly started to make his way back to the inn, the setting sun causing their shadows to elongate on the cobblestone ground. The canine neighbor walked alongside him and started to share some of the jokes he’s picked up, with the shorter of the pair giving a faltered laugh after each of them. His eyes showed more of what he shouldn't fully express though. They furrowed slightly as he processed the punchlines, then lit up as understanding hit. He made sure his shoulders shook to show that his laughter was genuine, and for the funnier jokes, he added the action of closing his eyes.

Wally was at home with each and every one of his neighbors. He loved how each of them came together and formed not just an adventuring party, but a family. He watched each interaction made with each other with close eye contact, his dark eyes following them carefully. He would give up the world if it meant that they could all stay like this. Happy. Together. A family.

------

A gasp. Air got sucked into his lungs. Out. In. Out. Breathing was so hard. Shouldn’t it be natural? It certainly felt natural if Wally thought about it. But the more he thought about how natural breathing should come to him, the more difficult it became. It was as if his lungs were stuffed with cotton.

Where was he? The ground was cold and hard. He willed his limbs to move, slowly awakening as if they had come out of a deep slumber. They were numb, and moving them felt foreign, as if he didn’t have full control over them. Wally slowly got up, checking his belongings as he did. He still had his spellbook, as well as his traveling backpack. Catching his appearance in a mirror, he felt his heart skip a few beats at the state of his appearance. His perfectly styled pompadour was halfway to falling over, his hair already leaning over and threatening to cover half his face. His eyeshadow was smudged and were those dark circles under his eyes? He inwardly grimaced, his smile not faltering just yet, save for the corners turning downwards.

He fixed his red ascot as an attempt to ground himself as he muttered, “Where are your neighbors? Find them first. They’ve seen you like this, even worse than this.”

He turned his head around to fully take in his surroundings. He seemed to be inside someone’s house. The walls were painted bright red, black and white accents protruding through the almost garish color choice. A large, almost equally red plush chair sat in the middle of the room Wally was in. Next to the chair was a table that reached up to the armrests, and on the table was a red contraption that he never saw before. It was roughly trapezoidal in shape, with a round dial on the front. Atop it, a curved shape lay in a cradle with a coiled cord that connected it with the base.

The wizard looked around him. Where was the exit? He glanced at the window with yellow panes in the shape of a cross. Outside it was pitch black. Oh. It was probably nighttime then. Was this a special room the inn gave them in exchange for Sally’s performance? He could still remember the little star’s flushed face as the crowd gave a standing ovation.

But, wait. That didn’t make sense now, did it? The performance was in the morning, so why give a luxurious yet tacky-colored room before that fact?

As Wally slowly made his way to the window to try to take a closer peek outside, he felt his shoe catch on a loose floorboard. He yelped as he tried to regain his balance. He ended up taking a few feeble, panicked steps towards the plush chair, to which he felt the floorboards shift beneath his feet and confirmed his destination was in fact, the chair.

He fell onto the chair, his back hitting the backrest roughly and one of his hands knocking onto the side table. Not a moment had passed before —

Ring! Ring!

The contraption was ringing.

Ring! Ring!

Wally didn’t know what to do. He reached for the ringing device, then paused in midair. What would happen if he touched it, much less picked it up? He’s had his fair share of magical items end up being cursed or otherwise having unwanted side-effects. What if this was another one of those?

Ring! Ring!

It kept ringing.

Ring! Ring!

It wouldn’t stop until he did something about it, wouldn’t it?

Ring! Ring!

His throat felt dry. A heavy pit started to form in his stomach. Why was he hesitating so badly?

Ring! Ring!

A sharp, unseen object pierced through his hand. He cried out in surprise, then hissed in pain as he felt something like string wrap around his wrist. It forced his hand down, forced his fingers to curl around the curved part of the contraption, forced him to pick it up and bring it close to his ear and mouth.

The ringing stopped.

His breathing still felt heavy.

“Hel – ” He paused. Swallowed. Then, he tried again. “Hello?”

A pause.

Then, a voice on the other end. “Hello.”

The voice was smooth and deep, with creaks and thumps throughout the room almost accentuating it. Wally unconsciously curled inwards as the hairs on the back of his neck rose. The pit in his stomach grew heavier. It felt as if someone was watching him. If only some of his neighbors were here! While he wasn’t as much of a glass cannon as someone might make him out to be, it was undeniable that it was easier to land a hit on him if he didn’t give his full attention to a fight.

“Where am I?” he asked. He hoped that whoever was potentially watching didn’t see how his smile wavered, nor hear how his voice wavered.

“You died on my land.”

Wally’s heart nearly stopped right there. His hand gripped the talking device tighter, and his other hand curled into a tight fist. His eyes darted around the room, looking for any indication that this was a dream. He didn’t dream very often, for sleeping was a tough thing for him. He still remembered the first time he had to explain to the other neighbors that him murmuring “I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping” was to help him achieve sleep. Insomnia was never a good thing, especially when it would last for what felt like forever.

“Oh. Ha ha ha. That’s a funny joke.” It had to be a joke, right?

Clearly the being on the other end didn’t find this to be a laughing situation, as the strings around his wrist tightened. He cried out in surprise, but bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out further. He mustn’t show weakness, even when the invisible strings around his wrist dug deep into his skin, drawing blood. As he felt the crimson liquid start to run down his arm, soaking into his clothes, he exclaimed, “Okay, okay! So, what if I’m dead? What about my neighbors?”

The strings stopped digging into his skin, but he could still feel them there. Waiting for him to misbehave again. A pause on the other end. “You all died on my land. Fifty years ago, you all died on my land.”

“That’s…not true, right?” Wally nervously chuckled. “We always make it out alive. Injured, cranky, tired. But alive.”

“Delusional fool,” the being on the other end spat. “How confused are you to believe your own lies? Must I show you undeniable proof?”

It didn’t wait for Wally’s answer. Before him, the floorboards flipped onto each other, parting and making way for a hole to appear. A putrid stench rose from the hole. Wally was deeply familiar with it, being a necromancer. Something was dead and rotting in there. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him. But the ominous way that the being spoke made his stomach churn, a cold sweat breaking out across his body.

Something — no, someone — rose from the hole in the room. It was humanoid, large. Wearing clothes fit for a jokester who could easily pummel someone with their bare fists. Light blue, slightly curly fur.

Their head detached from their neck, rising alongside the body.

Wally’s smile dropped.

“BARNABY!”

Wally leapt out of the chair to reach towards his best friend, ignoring the way the strings dug into his skin. This was a bad dream, was it? It was only a bad dream, right?

His fingers brushed against Barnaby’s arm. It was cold.

His head spun. He felt nauseous. His knees buckled under the revelation setting in. Another sharp piercing through his other hand, more strings around his wrist. Wally felt himself being lifted up by the strings around his wrists, yet he had no energy in him to fight back. His mouth was contorted into a deep, forlorn frown. The ground blurred, but he rapidly blinked it away. No. He mustn’t show weakness here. Not now.

He was alive. Somehow. He was talking to someone. He was The Neighborhood’s necromancer! He could revive them all! That thought wormed its way into his mind and burrowed itself deep. It grew roots so ingrained within him that if someone were to try to remove it from his mind, one might as well be removing his entire brain.

“I can bring them back,” he whispered. The idea slipped past his lips and into the air. It sounded viable now. “I can bring my neighbors back. I can bring them back!” He thrashed against the strings, ignoring the pain and the blood. “I can bring them back!” He stared at Barnaby’s cloudy eyes, his own wide eyes with feverish energy. A smile wormed its way back onto his face. “I can bring you back, Barns. I can bring you all back.”

The room shook. The floorboards rattled and the walls creaked. Windows and doors opened and slammed shut. The voice from the end of the device laughed loudly, echoing through the room. It sounded closer, not restrained to the device. It sounded like it came from everything, everywhere, all at once.

“AH HA HA! What a delusion you live under!” the voice sneered. “This could be an illusion I’m showing you! Didn’t you hear me? You’ve been dead for 50 years!”

“Then why am I awake, talking to you?” Wally asked back. His voice was strangely calm. Gone was his initial panic, instead replaced with resolve for his goal. He tilted his head. “I would be dead too.”

The voice paused, as if contemplating what to share with the wizard. “The combination of your party’s magic, combined with the natural enhancer of my land, prevented your bodies from rotting normally. It prevented you from being found. It prevented your souls from departing. It prevented me from contacting what was left of you. It took fifty damn years before the magic had faded enough for me to contact any of you.” A slam of a door enunciated the being’s frustration.

Wally mused this over, then looked around the room. “So, my friend’s bodies are still relatively well preserved, correct?”

A creak. Wally hummed and asked, “So I could revive them. Then we would move off your land, and we won’t bother you again. How does that sound?”

“Your bodies and magic have already infected my lands. There’s no point in your offer.”

Wally’s smile dropped at the edges before rising back up. He wasn’t going to lose his second chance at life, at seeing his friends’ wishes come true. They died all too soon for that. They were all still so young. “Then you join us in our adventure. You become part of our neighborhood. You become our neighbor. You are welcomed here, you are home.” If he had inadvertently given this being a name, no one had to know but himself. He widened his hands as if offering a handshake. He widened his smile, put on as much charm that he had in his disheveled appearance.

One minute of silence lapsed into five. Five turned into ten. Wally’s smile started to drop, and his fingers slowly curled inwards. “Please. I’m begging you.”

Another minute of silence passed before he felt his feet touch the floor, then the strings around his wrists relaxed until he didn’t feel them anymore. He rubbed the thin cuts and wished that Poppy were here to heal them.

“I’ll allow it. However, you must hold up your end of the deal. I’ll join your little party, until you die again. And you won’t die again in the same way you died before, oh no.” This time, a more visible string formed and wrapped around Wally’s neck. It tightened, yet didn’t raise him off the floor. Just a threat. “Your magic will be supplemented by my own, but there’s a time limit on how long it’ll last. Slowly, your friends will rot again. It’ll be your job to make sure they’re unaware of that, for only you will be aware that you’ve died for 50 years.”

To be burned by such knowledge made Wally’s head hurt, or maybe he was getting tired. After all, he had woken up from a 50-year slumber.

But for his friends, he agreed. “Deal.”

The string around his neck disappeared, and Barnaby's body was lowered back into the floor, the floorboards flipping over the hole. “Deal. Never forget this,” the being said.

Wally felt his stomach drop, his head spun. He dropped to the ground and struggled to keep his eyes open. Between heavy blinks, he saw the room disappear, black fading over the red. The floor became colder and foreign. The last thing he remembered was staring at the window as a large black eye shook and stared at him, red running down its lower pane.

------

When Wally awoke, it took everything in him to not immediately throw up. Everything around him smelled like death and rot. He untied his ascot from around his neck, cleaned it with a quick spell, then cast another spell to make it smell like Poppy’s apple pie as he tied it around his nose and mouth. Cinnamon, apples, and warm pie crust filled his nose as he took deep breaths to calm himself down.

Fifty years.

He and his neighbors were dead for fifty years.

And only he should know of it.

He steeled his nerves and slowly got up. He had his spellbook, he had the help of the being. He just needed to trust in his magic. It was dark outside. Perfect. If he did this quickly enough, he should have enough time to revive them before the sun rose. It wasn’t as if he needed sleep anyways, his mind was too loud right now.

Julie. She needed to find her sisters again and see how they were all doing. She had three of them, right?

Sally. She still needed to have a play fit to perform for the galaxy. Something only fitting for a star like her.

Howdy. He needed to have enough funds to replace his destroyed shop. Then, he needed to send extras back to his very large family.

Poppy. She was looking for her cousin, right? She had mentioned him a few times as she baked, a sad smile etched on her face.

Eddie. He wanted to remember where he was from. He knew his mother was waiting for him, but where?

Frank. His greatest dream was to document a rare butterfly he’d heard about as a myth since he was a child. To prove it was real.

Barnaby. Ever since his mother died, it was as if his jokes were an attempt to connect to her again. He said she’d always loved and laughed at his jokes. So, his wish was to make the best joke ever, enough to make her spirit laugh from the afterlife.

And Wally’s wish? He just wanted more time with his neighbors. The time he already had didn’t feel like enough. He loved them all too much for their adventures to end so suddenly. He didn’t even have enough time to blow them all goodbye kisses.

He gently pulled his friends closer together, every one of them cold beneath his hands. Every one of them preserved unnaturally by magic, but nonetheless putrid-smelling. He occasionally retouched on his ascot when his mind couldn’t numb the sensation or when the smell of happiness started to fade away. His mouth tasted like metal, so somewhere in the process of preparing for his biggest spell he had bitten his cheek or tongue.

He took out his paintbrush, opened his book, and channeled his magic through it. It flowed from the bristles like paint, and he painted the magic circle exactly like in his notes. The complex insignia was next. The spell listed several rare and expensive materials for a singular resurrection spell for a singular being, but would it work with all of them?

He had to try.

Wally stepped into the middle of the magic circle, surrounded by his neighbors, his friends, his family. As he continued to paint his magic into reality, he started to chant the spell. It was long, and a singular mistake could result in tragedy. A few minutes into the casting process, his magic circle suddenly surged with extra power. His eyes widened but he didn’t falter.

More magic, more chants. Something felt as if it gripped his heart and squeezed it like a stress ball. He gasped in shock but he had to recover quickly. His throat was becoming dry, but he couldn’t stop now. Magic continued to flow from his brush, the strokes becoming wider and sharper.

His friends’ bodies were reverting back to their normal selves. Gone were their grave wounds, their limbs were being stitched back together. He could even see a bit of color in their cheeks. His grin widened. It was working!

Almost as if the being that was lending him its power sensed his excitement, his heart clenched again. Something dark was crawling up his body. Cold, thick, liquid. It edged around his eyes before digging itself behind his eyelids, behind his eyes.

It hurt. It hurt so badly. It was like lemon juice was being poured in. He wanted to stop and cry and tear whatever this was out. But to lose concentration of the spell?

Never.

At the crescendo of the spell, his friends’ bodies started to rise. He rose as well. He was reviving all of them. He would do it.

Then, it was over. He painted the last symbol, said the last word. Their bodies slowly floated down, the insignia and magic circle disappeared, and the second his feet touched the ground, all the extra magic that had flowed through him temporarily left him. His body, starved for energy, started to shut down.

Perhaps he should do this more often. It would certainly cure his insomnia. “Ha ha ha,” he whispered. Before his eyes closed, he remembered his neighbors stirring, a hand pressed against his forehead, and a cry of “He’s burning up!”

------

According to Poppy, he had used so much magic that he contracted a magic-induced fever for a week. Magic-induced fevers were a tricky thing, as the use of healing spells only seemed to aggravate them, especially in the beginning days. So each neighbor had to wait for their wizard to naturally break the fever.

“Oh honey,” she murmured between his waking moments, “it’s okay. I don’t know what you did, but shhh. Focus on healing up, okay?” A handkerchief dabbed at his eyes and cheeks. Was he crying? He couldn’t remember the last time he did.

When his fever finally broke, and he could handle walking around without looking as if he would tip over if he took one too many steps, The Neighborhood packed their things and set up to travel to their next big town.

Wally was quiet on their first few days of traveling. He smiled and nodded and laughed when his neighbors talked with him, but speaking actual words was difficult for a bit. It was as if the excess of magic he had to use had chased away his voice. Or maybe it was the shock of seeing, hearing, feeling, his neighbors around him again. Alive. Happy.

Unaware.

He couldn’t let them know. He could never let them know.

When he started to speak again, Barnaby was the first one to give him one of his bone-crushing hugs. Wally remained as limp as ever in them, but he nuzzled into them harder than before.

“Missed hearing you buddy,” Barnaby whispered to him.

Another thing that bothered Wally was that his eyes hurt. They starved for things. In private, he found that if he stared at something for long enough with the intent to consume it, almost comical bite marks appeared in the object and that craving was reduced. He could also blink to initiate the eating process, but blinking scared him. In the dark of the night, if he widened his eyes enough, yellow crosses appeared in them.

“Hello Home,” he whispered, when his neighbors were fast asleep and snoring. “We’re forgotten Home. It’s as if we never existed for 50 years. I don’t think they remember that either.” He picked up an apple that he had bought earlier that day. He stared at it, and bite marks appeared in the flesh. “Do you see our adventures? I hope that you enjoy what we do Home.”

In his head, he heard a creak, like a door swinging on its hinges.

“That’s good, I think.”

Wally placed the apple core down and curled up to sleep. He closed his eyes, and murmured “I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping” until his consciousness faded away.

He had his neighbors back. He had a new neighbor. And he would cherish them for as long as he could.

Until death did them apart.

#Ima Writes #writing #my writing #original writing #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home the cast #tw: horror #tw: death #tw: corpses #tw: blood

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aquarius-stories-and-story-ideas · 1 year

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(Here's another screenshot edit I commissioned from @paimaniagalaxia. This is from 'The VVV' episode. Right now, that one is my favorite because we get to see a lot of Black Hat. As you can see, there are stark differences in Esther and Black Hat's facial expressions. Even though she loves her Uncle, she doesn't always condone his actions. For example, making Flug fight Mascara Macabra while he was controlling Dementia. Here's how I think this scene would play out with Esther.)

Dementia straightened up as the mask finally took full control of her. "Yes, yes." She said as she turned back around. Her voice was synthesized and sounded like both her voice and a mans were talking at the same time. "This host is so much stronger. Esto es increíble! This girl is a real monster." She flexed and felt her biceps. She glared up at the screen with a big grin on her face. "Well, Charrito? How many more do I break for you to come down?"

Black Hat merely cocked his eyebrows at her and Esther looked up at him. Everyone else in the arena turned to Flug, who now had a spotlight shining on him. The scientist made some terrified noises as he realized that he was going to have to go up against Dementia. Everyone started laughing.

Dementia briefly look of disbelief on her face. "What? You're kidding me? That lunch bag?" She started laughing as well.

Black Hat threw down his glass of 'wine' and laughed as well. Esther had a look of fear and worry on her face. They couldn't really expect Flug to fight her, right? When she felt her Uncle wrap his free hand around her to hold her in place she knew he ment it. She leaned against her Uncles chest and tried to find some form of comfort in his heaving form.

Black Hat spoke when he was done laughing. "Doctor, be a lad and bring her back."

He gave his boss a nervous look. "Uh, sir. Wouldn't it be easier to put a job posting online instead?"

Black Hat gently nudged Esther off of his lap and she moved to stand beside his throne. He literally phased through the screens with a terrifying look on his face. He glared at Flug and drooled a bit. "OBEY!"

Flug was transformed into a luchador uniform. A purple mask with red accents around the eyes appeared on his paper bag. He now sported a purple tank top with red accents on the straps. A sandwich picture was plastered right in the middle of the tank top. A white elbow-length fingerless glove covered his left arm. Instead of a glove on his right arm, there was a gold-colored wrist cuff. His shorts were also purple with red on the bottom. His shoes were red as well and he hand on white knee braces.

"Sorry, sir." Stammered Flug. "Just getting rattling, sir."

He made his way to the wrestling ring. "Of course, it had to be me." He fumed to himself. "I don't get paid enough to clean up after this lizard brain mess everytime-" He cut himself off when he tried to climb into the ring and briefly got tangled in the rubber wires.

Dementia laughed when he fell flat on his face. "I’ve had tacos with more spice than-"

Flug stood up and brushed himself off. "Shut up, you uncreative parasite!"

"Let's find out if your whole body fits inside that little bag!" She then charged at him on all fours.

Flug flinched. "That must be a metaphor, right?"

The announcer popped in behind him. "No. No, it's not."

He gained a hard look on his face. "Is that so?" He struck a pose. "Hat bots, attack!"

Two huge hat bots landed in the ring. One had on a leopard print luchador uniform and the other had on a green and pink one.

"What a twist, ladies and gentlemen!" Exclaimed the announcer. "Will El Alebrije be able to defeat that pair of mechanical grills?" Flug turned to leave but was stopped when the announcer spoke again. "Aaaand, they're junk."

The scientist turned back around in disbelief. "But, how?"

Dementia laughed on top of the now ruined robots, their heads in her hands. "You're next, bolsa!" She literally ran her tongue over her sharp teeth.

Esther glanced at her Uncle and noticed he was completely engrossed in the fight. She quietly took a few steps back and teleported herself next to the ring. Summoning a small glass platform, she hopped on it and peeked into the ring. She looked just in time to see Flug starting to panic. He turned to the crowd and quickly found 505. "Quickly, 505! Hand me the Tranquilizator!"

The bear turned to him and shrugged. It looked like Flug was trying to not lose it. "What do you mean you don't have it?! I thought we brought it!"

He turned around to see Dementia wrap her hair around him and toss him across the ring. When he sat up she was looming over him.

"What's wrong, chico holgado? Are you scared?" She said mockingly.

Esther couldn't take it anymore. She climbed into the ring and ran straight for Dementia.

"Dementia," Said Flug. "stop this at once."

She wagged a finger at him. “There is no more Dementia. Just Mascara MacabraAAAAHHH!”

She yelled when Esther pulled on her long hair. Flug jumped and his sights immediately went to the small preteen. “Esther?!”

“Esther!” Thundered Black Hat. Fear could be heard seeping into his words. “What do you think you are doing, young lady?!”

“Saving Dementia!” She answered.

Dementia yanked her hair out of her hands and turned to her. “Kid, get out of here. I don't fight children. They’re too easy to beat.”

Esther glared at her and kicked her in the shin. The older woman merely grunted. “Let Dementia go right now!” She made an attempt to punch her, but the older woman grabbed her by the back of the shirt. When she was lifted at eye level with her she took the opportunity to kick her in the chin. “I said let her go, right now!”

Dementia rubbed her chin as Esther tried to reach for the mask. “Okay. I’ll make an exception for you.”

The small preteen was about to say something, but Dementia threw her out of the ring before she could even make a sound. Before she hit the ground black shadows swallowed her and she was dropped onto someones lap. She looked up to see her Uncle.

“That was idiotic and dangerous, young lady.” He scolded as he wrapped his arms around her. “Let the adults handle this. You’re much too young to be getting directly involved with advanced villains like Mascara Macabra.”

Esther sighed as guilt gripped her. “I know. I just wanted to help. I’m afraid for Dr. Flug and Dementia.”

Black Hat briefly petted her head. “I know, baby.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Not this time. I’m not going to punish you for trying to help someone. But, I except you to stay with me until this is over. Understand? You gave me quite the scare”

“Yes, sir and I’m sorry”

“Good.” He shifted so she would be more comfortable and kissed her on the head. “It’s okay. Now, let’s see how Flug handles this, shall we?”

#villainous #art commission #villainous art #black hat villainous #505 villainous #villainous black hat #dementia villainous #villainous oc #esther

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orchid-151 · 7 months

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How would they all do in a fight, if they would get into a fight?

(Beings you didn't specify a number, I just used the main characters of the cast. If you feel like I didn't add everyone do let me know... Also this post is going to be long so that's why it's been cut 😅)

Let's start with Mason...

Mason, being one of the few Villagers who took the vow of peace, at first wouldn't have gotten involved with any fight... that is untill he had met Orchid. Seeing how hard she had fought to protect everyone who vowed not to fight, he broke his vow to protect her... as at the time she was weak from constantly being on the run. After his deal, he found that his new body was much stronger then his original body... allowing him to do his profession much more efficiently as well as strength to back up his goal of protecting his new sister.

Mason is build for power, not speed. But don't let that fool you in to thinking that he can't hit his target... he has taught himself how to fight in close quarters but if need be he usually resorts to his trusty hammer. His hammer is unique as it has enchantments on it normally reserved for tridents such as loyalty 3 or channeling... his special sledgehammer is also enchanted with mending and unbreaking three, so as it will last for a very long time.

The only time you will ever see Mason fight is if someone is threatening his sister, her boyfriend, her boyfriend's best friend, and anyone else he has formed a close relationship with...

Mason is highly likely to win a physical and mental fight as he trained himself to do so...

Next, Jay....

Jay grew up in a village that never did the 'vow of peace' so there was no need for him to be peaceful, but he was still taught to only be violent if his life or the lives of those closest to him we're threatened...

Jay normally only wears his hat if he is either doing his job as a librarian or is in the middle of conflict, as the hat provides extra defense for him as well as serves as a helmet (a poor helmet but a helmet nonetheless). He also prefers to take to the skies and attack from above... and thanks to encountering a couple of heroes, they offered him a set of their wings which he added mending and unbreaking three to it so as to have it for a very long time. He was also able to obtain a crossbow with a few of the best enchantments on it... And being a librarian he was able to learn mending and unbreaking 3 to enchant things with. In times of desperate measure he sometimes also has a shield with minding and unbreaking 3 on it in order to shield those in case he doesn't have his crossbow on him...

Much like Mason, Jay tends to stay peaceful until the lives closest to him are threatened, and much being in between Mason and Smith's intelligence he thinks about the situation, but sometimes acts first before thinking which tends to get him in trouble...

Jay can easily win a verbal fight but as for a physical fight it's a usual coin cost of 50/50...

Next is Smith...

Like Jay, Smith never took the 'vow of peace' but will stay peaceful unless his loved ones are threatened. Having a huge crush on Orchid, Smith will quickly throw himself into a fight if her honor or her life is threatened immediately, causing Mason to question if Smith is reliable to date his sister.

Being a Toolsmith, Smith is quick to is a special pickaxe/Axe tool he created for himself as his go-to weapon. Smith edition also has a shield similar to Jay's, and it's quick to bring it out in order to shield himself as he wields his unique ax. He's not as well trained as Mason but can be prone to also use his fists if in close combat, having fitted his gloves with some metal underneath in order to cause extra damage if need be...

Smith is on the far side of fighting smart as he will tend to do what his emotions tell him to do, which at one point resulted in him using himself as a shield protect Orchid... Which gave Mason second thoughts about Smith dating his sister. Smith has gotten a little bit better at remembering he has a shield that he can utilize though there are times in which he forgets to bring it out. Much like everybody else on this list, they stay peaceful unless provoked into a fight that involves the life of somebody he cares about... Unless you insult Orchid then he doesn't hold back.

Smith is not physically as capable as Mason, but if something he cares about is desperately on the line (like a typical anime hero) he might just come out on top...

On to Yumi...

Yumi is a peaceful villager but that doesn't mean she won't fight with her words. She is quick to anger and will not hesitate to use her words... There is a reason she is the village golem-maker...

Yumi does have a short fuse, but that doesn't mean she isn't compassionate towards those she forms a bond with. Yumi will only fight verbally if she feels someone was threatening those closest to her. But if need be she calls upon her golems to defend her and the village if they are being threatened...

Sorry to make it short but she's basically similar to how she is in ROTAI...

Depending on the fight situation, Yumi will more than likely win...

And speaking of Archie...

Archie is a peaceful Illager and is much more likely to use his brain more than his brawn. Being small, he is not able to fight or use magic, but luckily the heroes that saved him have been helping him and teaching him to defend himself. They have also given them high level items that they have improved themselves so that he is not completely helpless on their travels, such as a wooden totem to heal the team or an amulet that allows Three monsters to like him and fight on his behalf...

Archie is not fond of the amulet but will use it if in desperate measures. As for fights and conflicts he does his best to avoid them sometimes even hiding behind Yumi to keep from getting involved. On a rare occasion he will end up throwing a punch or two but due to his size it would more than likely result in him losing the fight...

Archie is more than likely to lose a fight if it is just him fighting...

And finally for this post Orchid...

Orchid is as peaceful as they come, detesting violence of any kind towards living beings and living creatures. But do not let that peacefulness fool you as she was taught how to hunt and to defend herself, thanks to Mason. She would never seek out conflict and would find ways to talk out of a fight... On rare occasions resulting in her having to defend herself.

She does have a netherite knife Smith and Mason made for her, but she rarely uses it. George the iron golem, Vex, and Allays take on the role of fighting on her behalf as long as she has enough magic to summon them (the Vex and Allays don't take but very little energy to summon, but George takes an enormous amount of energy to summon for a while...)...

As I said, Orchid does your best to avoid fights and conflicts and usually lets what people talking and say about her slide away easily... She will defend those who are closest to her by correcting others if they have said misinformation, she is very rarely prone to getting angry or frustrating but on the rare occasion if you catch her on a bad day she might just tell you off...

It is extremely, extremely rare that she would fight in a physical fight...

Orchid will normally lose a physical fight, however... (To answer this further would be going into spoiler territory... Just understand that in normal circumstances she would lose a fight and that it's extremely rare for her to win under normal circumstances.)

#anon ask #good one anon #minecraft oc #minecraft #illagers #villagers #illager #minecraft villagers #orchid #villager #jay #mason #smith #rotai yumi #yumi #archie #rotai archie

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