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deadghosy · 1 month

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🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆｡˚

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.

A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3

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multifandomimagin3s · 1 year

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It's your birthday - 141, Los Vaqueros + König

A/N: Since it's my birthday today, thought I'd indulge myself so hope you guys enjoy :))

Summary: It's your birthday and the guys find out.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Depends on if he's close to you or not.

Mans has the emotional range of a sock, so realistically the most you'd probably get out of him is a gruff "Happy Birthday."

And that's only if he somewhat likes you - if he doesn't then he'd probably just say "You're getting old now, cunt." *Affectionately? Who knows.*

If you were part of the Team, he'd probably take the piss out of you for it.

Would definitely be the one who would tell the waiters that it was your birthday - even if it wasn't - just to embarrass you.

Nonetheless, despite all his teasing, you came back to your room that night to find a little gift on top of your bed spread; there was no name on it, but scrawled across the tag said "Happy Birthday, (Y/N)."

It was a hunting knife with your initials carved into the base of the handle.

You never questioned it but whenever he saw you use it, a small glint briefly sparkled in his eyes.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

He's lowkey annoyed that you never told him when your birthday was.

Would absolutely rope you and some of the Team into going out clubbing - Ghost refused but ended up turning up anyways; "Wanted to watch you make arses of yourselves."

I can just imagine him going to the bar and coming back with a tray of shots - the people who carry and sell the shots in clubs know to carry extra because he buys them all each time.

Would honestly have spent most, if not all, of his money if it hadn't been for Price being the voice of reason.

Would also be the type that would be telling anyone and everyone that it was your birthday so you guys could get free shots.

Orders you whatever food you want on the way back home aswell - kebab? Got it. Pizza? Done. Whatever you want, he'll stumble into the shop and get it.

Your birthday would be absolutely chaotic but it would be one to remember.

Captain John Price

He knew it was your birthday, he's seen your file - the fact that you hadn't mentioned it to anyone meant that you probably had a reason not to, so he didn't say anything.

Would probably wish you a casual 'happy birthday' on a passing, in his normal formal tone.

When Soap invites all the team out on your behalf for clubbing, he's reluctant to go - claims he's "too old for that shit."

But ends up going anyways, purely because he knows that when Soap gets drunk he's a bit of a liability and can easily spend way more than he should (and honestly, same).

Would buy you a drink - whatever you wanted, alcoholic or not.

And maybe, just maybe, if he's had a bit to drink and or is in a good mood, he'd let you wear his hat. Just this once.

But then Soap tried to put it on and said he was keeping it...

So he took the hat back like >:(

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

He also knew when your birthday was - it came up in a conversation ages ago, and he has a great memory.

Also gets roped into your birthday night out by Soap.

He'd probably get just as drunk as Johnny but he'd be taking photos and posting onto his Snapchat Story, basically vlogging the whole night.

I can also see him surprising you with a cupcake, placing a birthday candle in it with a sheepish smile.

Would also buy you drinks but unlike Soap, he wouldn't be killing his bank account - self-control and all that.

Would get the DJ to play a birthday song for you - not the traditional cheesy one, but either 'It's My Birthday' by Will.I.Am or maybe 'Birthday' by Anne-Marie.

Alejandro Vargas

"Ah, feliz cumple!" *idk if this is correct, using this article for reference*

Like Soap, he wants to go all out for your birthday - if both teams were together at the time, it'd be one big chaotic night out.

He's a big flirt, regardless of what age you are he's complimenting you nonstop.

If he and Rudy get roped into the Night Out by Soap, Rudy and Price end up having to the be the voices of reason - Soap, Gaz, and Alejandro keep ordering shots; they managed to convince you into doing that challenge of getting a drink of everything from one end of the bar to the other.

Needless to say, you're all legless by the end of the night - well, Alejandro's still vertical but his alcohol tolerance is insane.

Would definitely want to spoil you - takes you shopping and tells you to pick anything that you want, don't worry about the price.

Honestly this is making me think of what Sugar Daddy! Alejandro would be like and it's giving me ideas...

Rudy Parra

This sweet guy would absolutely go out and get you a cake, maybe a balloon, and a card.

How did he know it was your birthday? He's a good listener, you'd been talking about your life outside of the military and had flippantly mentioned when your birthday was, which he noted.

Like Alejandro, he would honestly spoil you rotten.

If you both weren't deployed, he'd plan a trip away somewhere, surprising you with the tickets.

If he gets roped into going out by Alejandro - who was roped in by Soap's enthusiasm - he's practically glued to your side for most of the night.

Takes a bunch of candid pictures of you - they're honestly really good, he should be a photographer.

He'd probably have to stop Alejandro from feeding you and the others stronger shots - the jump from sambuca to jagerbombs to tequila was not a good idea.

He'd listen to your drunk ramblings with a smile on his face, letting you feed him your pizza.

He always remembers your birthday and makes each year memorable.

König

Finds out it's your birthday when your Superiors wish you a brief 'Happy Birthday' during training.

Straight away, he feels so guilty for not knowing but you reassured him that you hadn't really told anyone so he needn't worry.

Nonetheless, he'd still try and make the most of the rest of your birthday.

He'd cook for you - a traditional meal that his Mother taught him, and she used to make it for him on his birthday.

He'd run you a bath, give you a massage, and pamper you - he'd dote on you even more than usual, if that's even possible.

If you wanted to go out and do something, he'd do it - even with his social anxiety, he wants to see you happy so he'd bite the bullet and go for it.

If you wanted to stay in for a chill night and watch a movie, he's game for that too - lets you choose whatever film you want to watch, gets all your favourite snacks and gets all the fluffy blankets and pillows he can find to make a comfy spot on the couch.

He'd also secretly set a reminder on his phone for next year, so he never forgets.

He's honestly just so sweet.

#simon riley #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #john price #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #konig #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #konig x reader #cod #call of duty #multifandomimagin3s

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harpyface · 3 months

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Kim Kitsuragi - The bullet falls in the bag leaving a smattering of blood on the plastic. He raises the bag under his eyes and says:

Kim Kitsuragi - "Unknown calibre. Rifled. Some kind of brittle alloy, fractured on impact..."

You - "Can I have it?"

Kim Kitsuragi - "Of course. You've *earned* it." The lieutenant drops the bag in your bloody hand. It feels light.

Perception (Sight) - Your gardening glove is completely covered in the corpse's blood.

Inland Empire - Cold and absent of life.

Half Light - Lick your fingers.

Volition - What-

Electrochemistry - YES-

You - Um...?

Endurance - Uh, no. You barely got your shit together when approaching the hanging corpse. Your body will not be able to handle its dead blood inside it.

Electrochemistry - The dark liquid glistens on the yellow latex in the cold sunlight. Your fingers are *dripping* with it.

Authority - You outlived this sad, sad man. It's only right that you should feast upon his corpse.

Logic - No, you shouldn't. The corpse has been hanging outside - mouth open - for a week. In any case, it won't taste good.

Conceptualisation - That's because it's raw, unseasoned blood. This is just a little taste.

Perception (Smell) - You waft the odor towards your face. If you close your eyes, you can imagine it's a kebab.

Volition - We all know that the kebabs you ate were no better than a week-old corpse. Take the gloves off and clean them when you get back to your room.

Reaction Speed - You will never get this chance again, especially with how the lieutenant regarded you when you tried to remove the hanged man's boots.

You - Lick your fingers.

Perception (Taste) - You swipe the flat of your tongue along the back of your hand. Why did you do that? You could have just dabbed at it. It's disgustingly sour and tastes awful. You gag when your saliva washes the fluid down your throat.

Authority - You have bested this man. You have consumed him.

Electrochemistry - It's fucking vile. It's enlightening.

Logic - Great. Now that you've established that brain fluid and blood tastes bad, let's get back to the autopsy.

Kim Kitsuragi - He had turned to his notebook when you took the bagged bullet. He's still looking down at it.

Kim Kitsuragi - He was beginning to write the bullet wound's description. The pen has not touched the paper.

Composure - He *saw* you lick your bloody glove.

Empathy - It's not a surprise. He is still appalled.

Half Light - You conquered your prey. You are the predator.

Inland Empire - A four-legged beast with sharp claws and numerous teeth. Muscles powerful and flexing.

Shivers - In a grimy butcher shop in Faubourg, a rugged man pulls a thawed lamb down onto the somewhat clean counter. He grips the front legs and tendons crack. In the front of the shop, raw meats line the shelves. Red steaks with beautiful marbling, sausage casings stuffed full of spiced pork, pink breasts of chicken shining in the artificial light.

Electrochemistry - You recall the sweet ham of Gaston's sandwich.

Physical Instrument - Your muscles are also powerful and flex-worthy. Your meat would be highly coveted.

Volition - Right. Who would want to buy meat sourced from an addicted alcoholic? Take off the damn gloves.

You - "I wonder what I taste like."

Kim Kitsuragi - You pull him out of his silent stupor. After a second, he decides to ignore what you said. "We need to add an item to the injury list."

#EdC: He would be willing to help with that #this wasnt even for the last meme i just neeeeed cannibalism #new thought orb when harry walks past the kitchen and he has more cannibalism thoughts #yknow my friend said i was her SECOND favorite cannibal second to alastor #corvid creates #disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #disco elysium skills #celltw save me celltw #more often au

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hopefulromances · 5 months

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roy kent and 26 <3

#26 All American Bitch by Olivia Rodrigo

"I don't get angry when I'm pissed I'm the eternal optimist I scream inside to deal with it, like, "Ah" Like, "Ah" (Oh my fucking God)"

You were everything Roy Kent wasn't. You were smiley, giggly, full of joy and optimism. You were the new coach for the AFC Women's Team and you were everything someone could want in a figure head. You were great with press, always knew when to smile and laugh, great with fans, always taking time with each person, and great with the girls, you were fucking smart.

He couldn't figure out how you could do all of that and still be so fucking smiley. He thought he would hate you. Keeley kept insisting that he should go out with you, that you would surprise him but Roy just didn't get it.

Then he walked in on you in the boot room.

"FUUUUCCCCKKK," You screamed throwing boots across the room. "GODDAMNIT. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK."

After a moment, you took a breath, picked up the boots you'd thrown, and turned to leave.

"Well, that was a lot," Roy grunted, quirking an eyebrow.

You yelped when you saw him, throwing a hand over your chest. "Jesus Christ, Kent, you scared me."

Roy threw up his hands. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Was just- Doesn't matter, are you okay?"

"What me? Oh yeah, great, me, just fine," You chuckled humorlessly. "Just another press conference with stupid fucking questions."

Roy nodded understanding. He hated doing those press conferences. He hated them even more now that he was head coach. He didn't know how Ted did them so easily and how he made the press like him effortlessly.

"I mean who really wants to know what brand of athletic wear I'm wearing, like is that something people truly care about?" You continued, shaking your head.

"Fuck no," Roy agreed. "I don't know how you manage to keep all that-" he gestured to the general area "in all the time."

Now it was your turn to quirk an eyebrow. "I mean have you tried? Roy thought about it for a second. No, he hadn't. Never had to, it was encouraged for him to mouth off to the press. "That's what I though. Here's the thing Coach Kent, if I said half the shit you said to the press, I'd be painted as an ungrateful bitch."

Roy suddenly admired you so much. That smile, that optimistic attitude he'd come to hate was your way of protecting yourself. Roy never had to do that. He couldn't imagine being forced to smile all day every day.

"Sound fucking awful."

"s'fucking stressful is what it is," you agreed with a smile. But this was a real smile. Not the fake one you used for the press but a genuine smile that reached your eyes. Roy liked that smile. "But, anyways, I won't keep you, the boot room is all yours."

You moved to walk past him when he reached out and stopped you.

"If you ever want to, you know, fucking, destress together, I know a great kebab place down the street," he said. Fuck he sounded stupid. But however stupid he sounded you must have liked it cause that smile was back and Roy was practically blinded.

"Sounds like a date, Coach Kent," you quipped. "After training today?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," He answered readily.

"Then I'll see you there."

And you were gone and Roy was left wondering what the fuck had just happened.

#hopefulromances 1k celebration #spotify wrapped game #Roy Kent #Roy Kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n

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undercoverpan · 11 months

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Scary stories

"It was sometime in June when it happened."

Lyle said, holding out the kebab that he and Spider had made together over an open flame, slowly roasting it.

"It was uncomfortably hot, even at 2 PM, so I kicked off my covers and took off my shirt and pants. It was still too hot."

They were sitting around a campfire. Them being Spider and the recoms. It'd been a long day of looking for Jake; which thankfully had been unsuccessful. As Alpha Centauri A slowly lowered past the heavens, they opted to make camp. And thankfully, they hated RDA food just as much as he did, so they hunted and cooked their own food.

"I couldn't sleep, I was sweating like a pig in that room. So I decided to get up and get a glass of water. No big deal, right?"

They all listened to his tale intently. Spider did too, from his position between the bald Na'vi and Quaritch. He'd never really heard stories about earth, so this was something new. He'd also never really been invited to stay and listen to the Na'vi stories when the elders would sit with the youth and regale the most thrilling stories of history with them, complete with puppets and dances and the works. He hears them secondhand from his friends, and that's good enough.

"So I get up, and I start heading to the kitchen. The hallways are pitch black, but I know my own house well enough to navigate it even in the dark. It's still so hot, and I'm genuinely considering just sleeping naked that night."

He chuckles, and they all have a laugh at that. Of course Lyle would sleep nude. Quaritches ears flicked at the idea, a little too excited by it. Lyle smirks and winks at him, and Spider gagged beneath his mask. Lyle flicked his head, to which Spider responded maturely to; by slapping at him. This barely affects the laughing recom.

"As I'm walking, I keep hearing this noise, like glass being moved around. I try not to think about it, I figure I'm just tired and imagining things. So I get to the kitchen, but someone is already there. They're standing in front of the open fridge, and I can feel the cold air pouring out of it. I thought it was just my dad or my mom, but the figure is too small. Keep in mind, I was like 10 or 12 when this happened."

He tried to imagine a young Lyle in his head, but everytime he tried, he just got a half naked, small bald man. Lyle being a child was just not something that made sense. He figured he sprouted from the ground, fully grown. Would explain why he tried to fit his entire body in his ikrans' mouth though, the man didn't have any formative years.

"So I end up just kinda standing there for a hot second, then I'm like 'hey, who are you?' And they don't respond. Instead they close the fridge and step to the side. I can't see their face, they're standing with their back turned to me, but I can see that they're holding something."

"So at that point I'm kinda freaked out, so I try to go back, call my parents or something, but I can't. It's like my feet are glued to the ground, and I can't move no matter how hard I try. Then the figure starts walking closer, and I get a better look at em; small, brown hair, brown eyes, light skin. It stopped right in front of me, and then I was looking at my own face, but wrong. The mouth was too wide and the eyes were too sharp, like someone tried to draw me from memory."

He leans towards Lyle subconsciously as the man speaks.

"The thing put its hand up and I finally saw what it was holding. It's got this big ass knife in its hands, and its holding it right up to my throat," he says as he brings up his hand and runs his thumb across his throat in threatening manner, "and it drags it right across. As it's doing this, it's looking me right in the eye with this big smile."

Lyle leans towards the group, and Spider just now notices that he's gripping onto Quaritch. The man has his arm around his shoulder.

"It starts speaking with this horrible voice, like its vocal cords had been ripped out and dried in the sun. It said, 'Lyle. Lyle, I'm going to kill you one day. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do, you cannot escape me. You'll live the rest of your life in fear of me. When you hear the trees rustle or the wind howl or footsteps behind you or tapping on the glass, that's me. I will follow you to the ends of the earth.' And I just remember this blinding fear. Like lightning through my veins, willing me to do something."

"But before I can do anything, it disappears before my very eyes. Since then, I've seen it everywhere, even on Pandora. It left me alone when I died the first time, but I think it knows I'm back. I hear it in the trees around us, getting a little bit closer every day. But it's probably nothing."

He finished, like that wasn't the scariest story he's ever heard. A creature that wears your own face trying to kill you? And it's on Pandora now? Good Eywa, why hadn't Jake or the scientists noticed this! Since Lyle came back as a recom, was the creature now a recom too? How could Spider defend himself from it then?

Lyle laughed when he saw Spider's face. "Don't worry," he said, ruffling his hair, "You're safe."

Spider obviously didn't believe him, so he wasn't surprised when he couldn't sleep that night. Every sound had him flinching, wishing he had some kind of weapon so he could defend himself.

In the end he woke up Quaritch. "I'm scared." Was the only explanation he could force himself to give to the half-asleep man. "Because of Lyles' story? Really?" He muttered, and Spider immediately regretted his decision, feeling stupid and embarrassed. He wasn't a child, and Quaritch wasn't his dad, he shouldn't have–

He squeaked in surprise when Quaritch held out his hand to him, an offer being extended. With hesitance, he curled up beside Quaritch. The warm arm around him made him feel safe. Distantly, as he drifted off to sleep, he thought about the last time someone held him when he was scared. He couldn't remember.

______

Finally getting rid of unfinished drafts (will do my best to give em some kind of ending tho) so get ready to eat some tasty whatever was in my fridgeeeee. Btw i love all my drafts and will be trying to trick myself into thinking that I'll finish em properly so its a slow process.

#avatar spider #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #colonel quaritch #avatar recoms #avatar twow

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

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Absolutely no-one asked for this, but me and @ewanmitchellcrumbs have very strong feelings on what different EM characters would have as their fish and chips orders.

pov: me writing this fr

this is a full stupid ass shit post, it’s not serious guys, and unless I post something about it it won’t leave my brain

So without further ado, EM FISH AND CHIPS

First in the ring, the man who STARTED IT ALL, THIS LITTLE SHIT

Salad Days - Will What’s-His-Face

It’s canon that Will gets chips and a fanta, that’s it. 0 nutritional value. Also 10/10 on choice of chippy, it’s actually a really good chippy

HOTD

pov: aemond avoiding the grease

Aemond is not particular to a chippy dinner, insisting he doesn’t want anything bc it’s ‘too greasy’ (pussy). Aegon absolutely tears him apart for it. Just buys a San Pellegrino cos he thinks it’s fancy - absolutely fuming cos Aegon shakes it up on the way home and it fizzes everywhere when he opens it

If Aegon hasn’t been drinking, bog standard boring ass fish and chips with half of a bottle of ketchup slathered over his chips so nobody else nicks them. Won’t go near mushy peas, thinks they’re gross af. If he’s drunk, a doner kebab, but the local chippy doesn’t sell them so he gets Alicent to drive 15mins up the road to the one that does. A diva through and through.

Helaena doesn’t eat fish, so opts for just chips and is the only patron who actually buys the picked onions. Has mushy peas and curry sauce and mixes it together with her chips, mostly does it to annoy Aegon tho.

Daeron is waiting at home, but everyone forgot to get him something so ends up with the crap, lukewarm chips left behind.

Alicent is a scampi girlie all the way, with a diet coke

Otto is put off by the food hygiene rating at the local chippy, so takes his own fish to get battered like a weirdo. Decimates his chips with a litre of vinegar.

Daemon never gets to eat a chippy dinner, so he gets a pie as a side dish, despite Rhaenyra claiming it’s not a side dish. But Daemon stands by that it most definitely is. It’s a gash steak and kidney pie and refuses to use any cutlery for any of it.

Rhaenyra is also a scampi girlie, but unlike Alicent, has G&T out of a can.

World on Fire - Tom Bennett

Now THIS BITCH.

Ok.

Strong feelings but, Tom is a Northerner yeah. So he is a full gravy bitch. Loves that shit. Would bathe in it if he could. Has dry ass fish, unseasoned chips cos he’s boring af.

TLK - Osferth

*sigh* Osferth. Angel. Baby boy.

Osferth orders a battered sausage, but gets given a battered Mars Bar by mistake. He doesn’t like confrontation so he pretends like that’s what he ordered anyway, but he’s secretly devastated and tries not to gag when he eats it.

Uhtred can have the kebab that gives him food poisoning, shitting for days, idec, if face annoys me

High Life - Ettore

Ok this guy is weird. SO he’s gotta have a weird choice.

Ettore has the saveloy because he enjoys the innuendo. Stares at it on his plate for an uncomfortably long time, making sinister eye contract with everyone while he eats it.

Trigger Point - Billy Washington

Ooft. THIS sad boy.

Billy gets a chicken and mushroom pie. Yes from a FISH AND CHIPS SHOP. But the Food Safety rating of his local is like a 3, so the pie has been sat under the heatlamps for HOURS, so it’s all grey, sad and soggy. But he eats it anyway.

To tie it off, I imagine Ewan Mitchell as 100% a battered sausage guy. He has gravy (cos midlands boi, we love). Won’t touch mushy peas with a barge pole and perhaps partial to a chip cob. Carbs on carbs, we stan.

Thanks for reading this absolute trash.

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corrodedcoughin · 11 months

Note

anna, i’m gonna chuck a thought at you and i want you to bear with me because it’s got the silly vibes i think u fucking adore so ✋😳🤚 bear with me!

ok but business time by flight of the conchords (if you haven’t heard it. stop. go listen RN) is exactly the type of song that eddie makes up and serenades to steve when stevie’s cooking dinner for em both- like eddie’s got one legs propped up on the couch, guitar in hand, and alright, it’s not quite adlibbed he’s sorta had the lyrics in his brain for a bit and in the beginning steve is like nodding along with the strumming up until eddie starts singing, “tonight we’re gonna make love- you know how i know? because it’s wednesday. and wednesday night is the night we usually make love,”

and steve is hiding a snort behind his hand, stirring the pot and eddie’s just still going, “then we’re in the bathroom, brushing our teeth… it’s all part of the foreplay, i love foreplay,” and doing The Most in his fuckin performance and steve is got that fond exasperation as he tries not to giggle at his boyfriends antics cos eddie is singing this just like a gooey love song despite his lyrics “then you sort out the recycling… that isn’t part of the foreplay process but it’s still very important,” and he gets as far as “i remove my clothes very very clumsily, tripping sensually over my pants” before steve is like jesus CHRIST shut up, grinning and all, and eddie pours because he doesn’t even get to the do the chorus a second time around :((

RUBY!!!! RUBY !!!!!! I !!!! FOTC!!!! YOU ARE A GODSEND!!!!!

LISTEN LISTEN THAT IS ABSOLUTELY EDWARD MUNSON TO A T!!!! I CAN SEE HIM!!! GOD business socks but also Boom?? can we just imagine for a second

'oh my god, she's so hot, she's so flipping hot she's like a curry. i want to tell her how hot she is but she'll think I'm being sexist. She's so hot she's making me sexist. bitch!' and it's jut a straight narration of everything STEVE is doing PLEASE!!! Steve doing the most MUNDANE thing and Eddie is in the back like 'you like boom and i like boom' and he just gets SO INTO his own thing and ends up losing track with it all and straight up vibing and Steve just looking on like 'hey I thought this was abt me????'

WAIT BUT THIS TOO!! Eddie trying to romance Steve before they get together and trying not to be obvious about it so he comes up with this full song when he's at a party Robin throws. He's trialing the song out with corroded coffin and they KNOW they all KNOW who he's talking about but trying to play his feelings down and its 'the most beautiful girl in the room'

LIKE??? PLEASE imagine cringe fail antibiotic resistant slay bbg eddie singing this to his friends

'you're so beautiful you could be a waitress! you could be a part time model in the 60s' and it just goes on to be an imagined retelling of the most BORING night

'i can't believe that I'm sharing a kebab with the most beautiful girl i have ever seen with a kebab. why don't we leave? let's go to your house and we can feel each other up on the couch' and its SO BAD and he is just SO INTO IT and revealing things about himself like

'ooh, you're like one of those girls I've definitely been chatting to in the chat rooms wild slut angel 22 at yahoo, you're so beautiful like a tree!'

and it ends with 'oooh you're spending part of your time modeling and part of your time next to ME eh hee eh hee!!!'

and he's out of breath and closed eyes and stares at cc after like 'so, what do you guys think :D' and the cc boys are just staring at him like oh! oh um yeah! sure!

And Jeff is the only brave one of the group so looks Eddie dead in the eye and says 'it’s shit. But i think Steve would like it' And Eddie the wet fish that he is throws himself on the floor and mumbles 'he can't ever know' and Gareth just pats him on the head 'terrible song dude’

#RUBRYYR RUBYYYYY THE FACT YOU THKUGHT TO SEND A SILY FUN IDEa….to ME???? ME??!???!?#I SQUEAKED IN THE OFFICE READIFN YOUR MESSAGE #ZHEs so BUSINESS SOCKS I CANT CONTAIN THID JOY YOUVE UNLEASED IN ME #AAAAAAAA #I honestly am IN LOVE with this MADE MY DAY THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU DO MCUCH #EVERYTHING YOU DO IS A GOFT AND THIS IS NONEXCEPTION AAAAAAAAAA #showers you in praise and amazement and ADORATION RUBY!!!!!#my additions are MESSY and BLEH but you MADE ME LAUGH!! and I NEEDE DIT!!!#OBSESSED W U!!!#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #THANK YUO!!!#INDONT DESRVE SUCH DELIGHTS!!!

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ethicaltreatmentofcowplants · 7 months

Text

Truth was, even before Lou confirmed what they had already strongly suspected, Rory had been planning on catching up with the baby Vatore fanger. Grabbing a drink - or a kebab, more like. While they could respect a bloodsucker who was getting their fix from alternative sources, those Plasma Janes were rancid.

(And sure, they were big. They were bad. It could never be said of Rory that her bark was worse than her bite, because huh. But while she was wary of outsiders, prickly by default through habit and circumstance, she didn't believe in meanness for its own sake - particularly towards someone who had seemingly tried to extend a hand simply out of the goodness of her heart. All while knowing about Rory, about the Wildfangs, and what they represented.)

However with there being no need to convert this particular batling into an urn just yet, their options were limited to more nocturnal establishments. One of the duo, one was significantly more excited about the meetup than the other.

"This is actually happening? You're taking me out clubbing? Flameo, hotman! Let's paint this town red! Uh... not with blood, just to clarify." "Yeah so please don't take this personally, kid, but I'm not exactly afraid of you. You don't need to reassure me. That dress though..."

"You don't like it?" "Nah, it's fine, but - how do I put this delicately - this is a club, not high tea with the Fengs. You look like jailbai - just a little daytimey, that's all." "'Daytimey?' Not something used to describe me all that often. Isn't that ever so peculiar? Can simply not imagine why." (There's something begrudgingly endearing about this fanglette's self-aware cheesiness. Rory doesn't laugh at this cringe level, Dad Joke - yet still managing to be kind of funny - humour. But they want to.)

"This was in a wardrobe downstairs. Is it better?" "It's just asking for someone to spill a drink on it, but I'm guessing that you've dealt with worse stains than red wine before. Ghost Lady behind us approves at least." "Whooo! Vamp Girl! We're twinning!"*

*Upon closer inspection they were not twinning. But shh.

"So. Anyone here catch your eye?" "Do you mean like that lady's glow-in-the-dark dress?" "The fibre optic one, yeah, but that's not what I'm - don't some of your kind have an attraction ability? Like a honeypot or something?" "Honeypot? Oh no, vampires have never been associated with bees. Not that we mind them, of course! You may just have them confused with bats." (Rory reflects that sweet Plumbob, they have their work cut out for them tonight.)

"Oh, is this what you were talking about? Vampiric Allure? I'm not sure how well mine will work - Caleb's is ever so much stronger..." "Uh, yeah - I'd say it's working just fine, kid. Take a look at your audience."

Amelie was a little nonplussed at all the attention.

"Um, do I have plasma fruit between my fangs again?"

But she soon forgot about it, hit Level 3 on the dance floor and started to really get down.

It was hard to get decent photos of her in such a crowded place, even with big sister Lilith coincidentally nearby and helping out by commanding particularly annoying townies to leave.

tbc...

(also please let me know if you made it this far and spotted the ATLA reference okay bye)

#my sims #amelie vatore #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 alphabet #alphabet legacy #sims 4 vampires #sims 4 werewolves #rory oaklow

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stormxpadme · 6 months

Text

Whumptober 2023 No. 26 - "You look awful."

Scogan Bingo challenge Sex In The Shower/Tub

"You look awful."

Scott tried bravely, making it sound like an amused teasing, but Logan didn’t need to be able to see behind the usual glasses covering eyes to know that they were filled with both shock and worry.

"Yeah, well, next time I get to seduce the rich bitch, and you take the detour through the toxic waste drain." Logan regarded the unconscious Weapon X cell leader on the ground with a pointed glance, not missing that the expensive tight dress wasn’t hugging the blond woman's sinewy shape half as proper anymore and that she had a couple of hickeys on her neck. Necessary fraternizing to get a mission done wasn’t anything you could get jealous about, not in their line of work … Still, this was not exactly how Logan had imagined this evening of Scott's and his anniversary to go. Still grumbling, he turned away to slam the shut of the walk-in vault shut, not least to spare Scott further staring at where Logan's healing factor was still busy, not letting his skin and flesh look like a burned pizza anymore. That, too, hurt like a motherfucker, but it could be helped just as little as Scott having to flirt his way into this room undercover at that military ball tonight, to give them a kind of access to this underground safe that wouldn’t sound any alarm. If they didn’t manage to find some highly dangerous formula for a new mutant cure in the limited time window before their enemies would notice the destroyed cameras in the corners, they were not only looking at another unpleasant confrontation but then this whole thing would have been in vain, too. "Got anything yet?"

"I was just starting to look. Been a little busy too far, trying to keep her from getting into my pants." Someone not as close to Scott as Logan had gotten in the years after their joint grief over a certain redhead of their team dying on them at Alkali Lake for the first time, might not have noticed the slightly strained tone in Scott's warm, deep voice, or might have put it onto the stress of the situation.

Logan who'd seen his team leader entirely unfazed in the face of even the most lethal threats in the field before didn’t need his enhanced senses to know that these feigned intimate scenes a moment ago had gotten to his partner. Scott hated Logan babying him just as much as it was the other way around, so he arduously kept back until they passed each other by casually while systematically checking every box, every smaller vault, every drawer in this damn room. Only then, cautiously reaching out for Scott's wrist, he slightly raised his brows at him. By now, Logan was not looking so kebabed anymore, fortunately, and could move again without groaning out from trying to use muscles that had just been chemically burned to particles. So Scott would hopefully be able to tell from the knowing, composed expression on his face that Logan wasn’t trying to go mother hen on him about something that they'd both been able to go through with more than once, ever since Logan had joined this peculiar team of probably clinically insane people back at Liberty Island. Ever since then he'd just grown far too damn fond of this stubborn asshole to want to see him run into the next best bullet on the way out because his focus was off.

"It's fine. Just a couple of kisses and a bit of groping. I've regretted some drunk New Year's Eve hookups more than this," Scott assured him with a grin that for all its crooked character seemed sincere. "That's not it. Notice something?" Scrunching his nose a little, he nodded down at the figure on the ground that he'd taken out with a fast-working narcotic, hidden in a needle on some swanky ring on his thumb.

At first, Logan didn’t, mostly because he was smelling like a damn cesspool. But the airtight room was ventilated so badly and so sterile that when he focused on his senses consciously, he could finally pick up on the sweetish-flowery fragrance that was coming both from the enemy and inevitably from Scott's body now, too. Last Logan had been allowed to scent that certain note of freshly bloomed roses, that had been when Jean and he had almost gotten up to something incredibly stupid in the night before Alkali Lake. There were certain subjects for which even after almost two years, there were still no words offering the necessary comfort. And right now, cuddling for a few hours, and a bit of erotic adrenaline to get the flood of memories of the woman they'd both loved out of their system, was obviously off the table, too. So Logan had to do with long, gentle squeeze of Scott's hand and a fleeting kiss to the side of his neck to show him, he knew exactly what was going on before continuing the search for their target object even faster now. The sooner they got out of here and back to Mutant High for some badly needed downtime, the better.

But it was Scott, having a lot more accuracy with these kinds of things by nature, who dug up what was probably the document cartridge in question from the bottom of some vault in the very back of the room a minute later. "Looks good." With a relieved sigh, he replaced his glasses with the VISOR that Logan had brought for him for a lack of other options, grimacing at the stench of waste even clinging to the device. Then he shot the ridiculously small and simple lock on the box to pieces.

Only a split second too premature, just when Logan's senses had suddenly noticed an almost inaudibly faint ticking and hum coming from that damn thing so that he didn’t even get a chance to open his mouth for a warning. All he could do, if he didn’t want to watch his partner bite it right before his eyes, was jumping him with a headless little shout, throwing Scott to the ground, covering him with his smaller but larger body as well as possible before a fortunately small explosion sounded through the room. One that might easily have taken off Scott's head or some limbs anyway. As it was, they were getting away from their dumb carelessness with just their clothes ripped to pieces, being half-deaf for an hour or so, and with a couple of minor burns from where Logan hadn’t been able to push Scott far away enough in time from that box. But that was enough, in combination with the valuable information they'd been supposed to retrieve here gone, to ruin their mood for good. Not to mention that they'd have to hurry the fuck up now if they wanted to leave this cellar just as inconspicuously as they'd entered unless they were to run into a whole hostile squad.

Scott let Logan help him up with a pained little grimace, no doubt already feeling what would be a whole myriad of bruises from the impact, taking just a second to look down at his now entirely ruined Armani suit, checking for any serious damage. For some mysterious reason, a weak grin curled on his lips. "At least now we both smell like shit."

Logan rolled his eyes at him dramatically and pulled him towards the door.

******

It was a major annoyance, having to start this whole operation all over, but on the way home, they somehow managed to push that frustration away for now. Wasn’t the first setback, wouldn’t be the last. Getting this fucking formula on the first try already would have been sheer luck, honestly. When these particular bastards were involved, the X-Men always had to be glad to get out of any kind of crisis with all their bones somewhat intact. Since they still were both carrying far too many traces of this little adventure though, they let the others know via a brief phone call that they'd not drive through the night for a mission debriefing that could easily wait until tomorrow but chose the next best dubious motel on the road, once they could be sufficiently sure, they were not being followed. The receptionist eyed their lousy appearance and Scott's glasses with narrow eyes but when Scott slipped her an extra dollar note and opted for one of the more expensive rooms, they got their keys. Having takeout and a new set of clothes hastily enquired on the road on them, a couple of hours of silence sounded like the best damn idea right now.

To their surprise, the run-down place had actually bothered to equip their better rooms with a bathtub instead of a shower, large enough even for Scott's ridiculous height to be somewhat comfortable. So after Logan had hastily devoured the most necessary carbs to get his energy back up after the extensive healing earlier and Scott had dully picked at his chicken salad for minutes, they quickly found themselves naked in the hot water. Snuggled closely together, with Scott nestled against Logan's body back to stomach, their legs intertwined, their breathing quickly started to go in a synchronized rhythm as the last of agitation and adrenaline started to ebb away. "Could have lost you earlier," Logan finally murmured into his lover's ear, tightening his hold on those long, strong thighs instinctively as he recalled that moment of panic earlier. "You need to watch your stupid thin ass better. Someday, I might not be there to push you out of the way, you know."

"I'm usually not making the same mistake twice. So, not gonna happen again." Scott squeezed his hand and turned his head for a quick kiss to Logan's temple but he didn’t give him a promise. They rarely did. For that, they both knew far too well how quickly this job could end badly thanks to something entirely out of their control. "I'm more pissed about fucking up. If Weapon X goes through with this … I don't exactly have great memories of the last time someone came up with a so-called Cure, you know."

A night when they were both already weary was not a time to reminisce on the whole clusterfuck that had been Jean's short-term rebirth and Scott's own death and resurrection, not to mention how barely their race had scraped by extinction and full-blown war back then. So Logan only rested two fingertips on Scott's chin to turn his lover's head back to him for a proper kiss. He could still taste ash, a bit of copper from a small cut on Scott's lip from that fall, and the tartness of the cheap wine Scott still had half a glass of in his hand, the latter being another worrisome sign that the day had taken a bigger toll on his lover than Scott was trying to show. "We're not gonna let it get to that again, Slim. And we still got time. The one good thing about me being these people's lab rat before? I know them. If they had anything that actually worked yet, we'd already know. Whatever shit they'll try to stir at some point, I got no problems wading through that, too, if I have to."

"We will," Scott corrected him, the almost painful tension in his back having slipped away at least a little, the smile on his lips looking grateful now instead of bitter, and a good deal tired. "As soon as I'm no longer that beat, we'll make a list of possible headquarters of these assholes nearby. If we're lucky, they got another lab within reach to search. Not tonight though," he emphasized when Logan frowned skeptically. "A very wise guy once told me, overworking myself to the point of passing out only fucks up the results in the long run."

"Dunno about the being smart part but you should definitely listen to the dude more often," Logan agreed with a small grin on his own, still annoyed about how close this whole thing had been earlier. That was something he didn’t care for dwelling on any longer either right now though, or later in a new version of his nightmares about losing either himself or people close to him in an ocean of blood. Laying down was out of the question as long as his mind was still a mess of restlessness and dark emotions. And Scott wouldn’t be faring any better. "Like when he tells you, we can both use a sleeping pill that leaves less of a headache than this brew you're choking down there."

Scott's smirk definitely sported a wolfish touch now as Logan's fingertips started to wander on his thighs, moving to the inside and higher. "Is that so? You think you can dissuade me from numbing my thoughts with booze with a couple of excess hormones?" He demonstratively raised his glass to his lips again, his other hand unmoving on the tub edge but let out a suspicious gasp when Logan's knuckles brushed his already hardening cock, feather-light.

Well, that was a game two could play. "Who said anything about hormones? Just making sure you get sufficiently clean." Logan reached for the bottle with soap on the tub edge with his free hand and squirted a generous amount of the thick fluid, faintly smelling of coconut, on his palm. When Scott shuddered a little and squirmed back against him, he rested his legs over his lover's longer ones, easily keeping him in place thanks to his superior strength, and lowered his head to nibble on the shell of Scott's ear, knowing all his lover's most sensitive spots perfectly after all this time. Gladly watching Scott tense and curse under Logan's exquisitely slow caresses underwater, everywhere he could reach, without ever coming close to certain most sensitive areas though, he took his sweet time, railing his lover up, only letting out a suppressed groan every now and then when Scott writhing back against him stimulated his own erection more or less accidentally. The quickly building want in his lower body far too intense to ignore for long thanks to the peculiarities of his feral mutation, Logan gave up on restraint the second, he'd cleaned his lover's skin off those last traces of the explosion and a certain rose perfume. He was yearning far too much to hear Scott enjoy himself loudly and shamelessly right now for endless foreplay. So he brought his hands from where they had been so patiently stroking every of his lover's firm, attractive pecs and abs, of his hips, his attractive legs, to Scott's dark, pebbled nibbles, a harsh first tweak promptly making his lover groan out and try to squirm against the hold of his legs once more, his hips thrusting into nowhere. "That glass of yours still looks awfully full … What happened to that numbing-your-mind deal?"

Scott let out a defeated growl and put that thing quickly away before starting yet another attempt to break free of Logan's hold and turn around to him properly, to no avail not least thanks to a couple of strained muscles from their stunt earlier. "I could get of something far more delicious to taste right now."

"I'm sure you do." Logan ignored the not-exactly-subtle innuendo as there would be more than enough time for that later, giving Scott's reddening nipples another few harsh twists and tugs. On nights like this, when they were both prone to melancholy and self-doubt, more than it was healthy in their line of work, the additional adrenaline of a little bit of pain and loving humiliation was necessary for Scott in particular to lose himself entirely to the needs of his body. Reveling in every of his lover's moans, every startle of pure lust twitching through that tall, lean body, Logan only reluctantly let go to reach for that soap bottle again, acquiring a far bigger dollop of the grey-white mass this time. "Don't think so, Slim," he muttered warningly against Scott's ear when Scott thrust his hips up wantonly, kissing away the goose-bump on his lover's neck that this certain deep, slow tone in his voice in such moments always caused. "For that big mouth you got on you, you don’t get a reward so easily. Don't make me say it again if you don’t want to spend the night in restraints," he added sharply when a defiant flash of red sparked behind Scott's glasses and his lover tried to reach for his throbbing cock underwater himself. "Legs up."

A pout on his lips, Scott seemed to consider rebelling against that uncompromising order for a moment but with Logan's lips back on his ear, the tip of Logan's tongue thrusting inside a couple of times, his resistance melted away at once. A deep sigh on his lips, he leaned back even more heavily against Logan's body which in turn had Logan's untouched cock jerk in need, and rested his lower legs on the tub edge, presenting his most vulnerable spots willingly for Logan for the taking, something that Logan didn’t think would ever leave him cold with someone acting so distanced, so cautious about not physically getting too close to people otherwise.

Not wanting to ruin the intimate moment with more words, Logan left another soft kiss on the side of Scott's neck and then finally got his hand underwater, spreading the fluid quickly and thoroughly enough where it needed to go so it wouldn’t get washed away, then softly eased a first slick finger into his lover's tight opening. For a moment, he feared, Scott would be too wound up after today for the necessary relaxation when an almost painful clench of muscles followed.

But then Scott turned his head to the side with something almost close to a needy sob, burying his face against Logan's shoulder. His hands only clenched down harder where they'd reached back for Logan's hips, a silent invitation.

One Logan was glad to follow, slowly exploring that tight heat with shallow thrust, only going deeper when this instinctive first resistance had melted away.

By the time, he was playfully nudging a certain rough spot deep inside, Scott was moaning out and trembling in his arms, his untouched cock starting to dribble small drops of white into the water. A second and then a third finger added with exciting ease, Logan had his lover thrust down against him within minutes, back to writhing mindlessly and moaning his name, knuckles protruding white from where he was holding on, his strong, flat stomach concaving again and again as his stretched hole clenched up firmly, lustfully around the quickly working digits. "Need you, Logan …" By that time, Scott's voice was only a hoarse whisper, his hand reaching up to clench so tightly in Logan's hair it almost hurt, his whole body tensing up as Logan fucked into him deeply another time, aiming right for his prostate once more, his balls drawing up closely to his body.

Logan decided that waiting for his eager lover to beg would still be early enough in round 2 or 3 and carefully pulled back, with a soothing kiss to Scott's shoulder when he whined. "Up." He only loosed the grip of his leg muscles long enough for his lover to follow the new command before firmly grabbing those slim, attractive hips, pulling Scott against him at a different angle this time, groaning out loudly himself as his raging hard on slipped into that oiled, hot channel with ridiculous ease. "Jesus, Slim, I swear one day you'll gonna kill me personally."

"Less. Talking." Scott firmly planted his feet on the bottom of the tub, his hands back on the edge as he moved his hips in a first tentative roll, slowed down by the water, and shuddered out another moan, feeling every single inch of pulsating hardness so deeply buried inside of him albeit not in the very best angle. "Fuck …"

"No cheating," Logan reminded him sternly before Scott had made as much as one move to reach down again. Tensing his own hip muscles for a firm thrust, he grinned in satisfaction at the helpless keen from his lover's lips. "You're gonna come on my cock only tonight, Slim, so might want to put your back into it."

"You're gonna get that back, just so we're clear," Scott grumbled, a threat hardly even being one, not with how much they both enjoyed being on the receiving end of such alluring little games from time to time. And then his lover was very quick to go nonverbal again because Logan thrusted up into him again, even harder this time, the water almost splashing over the edge, and the moan of pure, bone-deep want on Scott's lips almost made Logan come on the spot himself.

With how much more salty, delicious fluid was starting to stain the water, with no orgasm anywhere in sight yet though, somehow, Logan was beginning to suspect they'd have to continue right with a long, good shower after their bath if they wanted to get even close to being clean at any point this night …

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

#no.26 #you look awful #x men #fic #nsfwhump #everything after x2 didn't happen sue me #x men original timeline movies #x men movies #fanfiction #stormys fanfics #scott summers #wolverine #cyclops #scott x logan #scogan #scoganbingo #nsft #whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023

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czenzo · 1 year

Text

step into the moonlight (and throw your weight into me)

[ao3]

summary: Lockwood takes some time to think in the comfort of his sister's room. Lucy joins him.

words: 1439 rating: G

note: my secret santa gift for @mysticalmaladies! set between The Whispering Skull & The Hollow Boy. title from Move Me – half•alive

Jessica’s room was cold.

If Anthony closed his eyes, he could almost – almost – smell the remnants of her perfume that clung to the fabrics of her bed. Or maybe he was imagining it; perhaps his brain was conjuring up a fake comfort to distract him from the fact she was truly gone.

It was a strange feeling, to be the last surviving member of the Lockwood family.

His parents were long gone, of course, along with his sister, and his grandparents had been so old and spoken so little of after he was born that they may as well have not existed at all.

It had been years – far, far too long – since he’d seen his family. (Alive, that is.)

Anthony perched on the edge of the bed. The cold nipped at his exposed skin, seeped through the fabric of his clothes. The stillness and silence were suffocating.

The door had been closed firmly shut behind him, sealing him away from the rest of 35 Portland Row and its other inhabitants. The last time he saw them, George had been preparing dinner, and Lucy was keeping herself busy practising her rapier skills on Esmerelda. They probably hadn’t even noticed he had hidden himself away for a while.

How long had he been in her room? Anthony wasn’t sure.

He tried to avoid lingering in here too often; it never did him any good to dwell too heavily on the past. Spending time in Jessica’s room was always unbelievably draining and often did more harm than good, but –

But, here he was anyway.

Grieving alone.

He wasn’t really sure if grieving was the right word anymore. It had been years since he last sobbed so hard his body shook with the effort. No, he was no longer grieving – missing, or remembering, were more suitable.

But at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter.

She was gone forever, either way.

***

Esmerelda was not having a good day.

Lucy was, though. She swung and dragged her rapier across the straw sack dangling in front of her, exerting every ounce of effort her body could muster up. There wasn’t any particular hidden emotion beneath her ferocity – the desire to be better than Quill Kipps notwithstanding – but it felt damn good to stab and slash for a bit.

“Ooh, I’m terrified. I’m shaking in my little glass jar,” the skull called from its perch on her desk.

“As you should be.” Lucy attempted a ward with the tip of her rapier. It was moderately successful, though she could never reach the same amount of pizzazz Lockwood possessed when performing it. “This is exactly why you’re never getting let out of the jar.”

“What, because you’d skewer me? Turn me into a tasty little – what’s it called – kebab?”

“Shut up. You’ve been obsessed with that word ever since George mentioned it the other day.”

“Kebab.”

It was too far to flick the jar’s lever without losing her momentum, so Lucy swiftly ignored its repeated declarations of “Kebab!” and continued hacking at Esmerelda – albeit with a touch more annoyance.

“Christ, I can hear Lockwood moping from all the way over here.”

It took Lucy a second to register the skull’s words. When she eventually did, she faltered, and what should have been a devastating blow to Esmerelda’s head became a pathetic tap on the nose.

“What?”

“He’s sulking. Being moody and mysterious, or whatever it is you girls find attractive these days.”

“Where?”

“Use your noggin. Where do you think?”

Lockwood’s bedroom was so stripped of character it was hard to tell he even slept in there – Lucy couldn’t imagine him… moping, as the skull said, in such a room.

There was only one other possibility. (Unless Lockwood had formed a new habit of being emotional in George’s room, amidst the dirty laundry and old comic books, but that was as likely as Lucy freeing the skull from its silver-glass confines.)

Despite its insistence that she take it with her, she left the skull to entertain itself as she ascended the levels of the house. She almost became distracted along the way, thanks to the smell of George’s cooking and the sight of him in his stupid frilly apron, but she powered through and soon found herself in front of the door.

The door she had only seen through once, when Lockwood finally revealed to her and George the reason he kept it sealed tight. The door she’d never been in again since, despite it crossing her mind more times than she could count.

Lucy drew close to the door, closed her eyes, and pressed her ear against it.

Nothing. Eerie silence.

Maybe Lockwood wasn’t in there at all. Perhaps he really was in his bedroom – his bleak, bland bedroom…

No. Lucy gripped the door handle. After a breath, she pushed it open.

And there sat Lockwood, hunched over at the side of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and head hanging loosely between them. His dark hair obscured his eyes from Lucy’s view; it was impossible to tell if they were open or closed.

His stance lasted for a split second until his head shot up at the sound of Lucy entering. The delay in his reaction had been minuscule – but Lucy Carlyle, known noticer of even the tiniest details, didn’t miss a single bit of the way he looked before.

“Luce,” Lockwood breathed, his face contorting. He squinted at the incoming light from the open door. Upon laying his eyes on Lucy, the corners of his mouth were pulled upwards, forcing the most unnatural smile she had ever seen grace his face. It lasted a second, maybe two. And then his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, his smile faltered, and it became abundantly clear that Anthony Lockwood was holding back tears.

“Lockwood,” Lucy said, gently closing the door behind her. “What are you doing in here?”

“I just… needed to think.”

“Okay. I can leave, if you–?”

“No,” Lockwood said quickly. “No. Stay.” And then he added, in a quieter voice, “Please.”

Lucy nodded, and crossed the room to sit by him without another word.

There was a long stretch of silence before Lockwood spoke again. “How did you know I was here?”

“The skull.”

“It’s an eerily observant thing,” he mused. His eyes had been drawn to the window, where soft moonlight shone through the glass and danced on the old, creaky floorboards. Lucy studied his side profile. She’d tried to sketch it countless times, but could never quite get the slight bump at the bridge of his nose, the right fullness of his lips, or the swoop of his eyelashes. He was impossible to copy to paper – though no pencil sketch would ever amount to the real thing anyway.

As she gazed at him, she became aware of a faint light behind them. Lucy looked over her shoulder. That strange glow still hovered above the mattress, on the opposite end to where they currently sat – it was so incredibly faint, barely a whisper of light, but demanded her attention nonetheless. There was enough distance between her and it to put her mind at slight ease, but it still made her queasy to think about it for too long. The drop in temperature as she’d entered had been harsh, and the room was unnervingly still. The four walls around her made no attempts at hiding their death-riddled past.

“It’s safe, don’t worry,” Lockwood said upon noticing her line of sight. “If anything were to come back and wreak havoc, it would have done so by now. That glow…” His voice trailed off as he looked towards it. “I don’t think it’ll ever go away. It’s icy cold, but harmless.”

It took Lucy a moment to put her thoughts into words. “How do you know?”

“I’ve spent considerable time in here. Perhaps” – he took a breath, and pulled his gaze away from the glow – “more time than I should have.”

“You miss her.”

Lockwood smiled. It was downturned and wobbled the tiniest amount before he spoke. “Of course.”

Lucy wasn’t sure of the right way to respond, or if there even was a right way to respond, so she did what Mary always would to comfort her as a young girl.

Slowly, giving Lockwood enough time to pull away should he choose to, she lowered her head to the side, and it came to gently rest on his shoulder.

Lockwood breathed a ragged sigh.

And he lowered his head onto hers.

He didn’t need to say anything; the way he relaxed into the touch told Lucy more than words ever could.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co fic #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #jessica lockwood #czenzo.fic

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quellmythirst · 2 years

Text

When you need me - 6

Summary: Reader and Billy finish their talk.

Pairing: Ex!Military Reader x Billy Russo

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: Declarations, swearing, anxiety, 18+ Minors DNI

Part 5

You stormed out of the club, ignoring Frank's calls when he started running after you asking what had happened. Shrugging him off when he turns you and sees the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You need to get home, need to think. To process what had happened, what had been happening the past few days. He'd been so soft, affectionate and you had seen the caring side of Billy you always adored.

You are not shocked that he hadn't followed you, he had to process the same as you. You had basically dropped a bomb on him. Only barely able to hold back the feelings, the heartache that wretched your heart when you finally let out the secret you had been keeping for too long. You hop in the first taxi that you see, rushing to get home. The need to be home, to be safe, somewhere noone could see the torture on your face.

When you finally get home, you make yourself coffee after coffee because you know he’s going to come, it was just a matter of when. So, you just have to sit here stewing in your thoughts until he finally arrives. Replaying the last few days, years on your mind while you tried to figure out what exactly he expected you to just know. Something that he assumed was obvious, something that you had somehow missed?

After watching the frantic way you exited the club Frank storms through Billy's office door, demanding to know what had happened. Billy couldn't find it in him to respond, ignoring Frank’s question as he walked out of the room, the club. He needs to think, shooting a quick text to Williams about an emergency and needing to leave. His brain tries to decipher your words, while the surprise at your admission tugs at something inside him. You had thought he was dead, blamed yourself and then pushed him away. He couldn't imagine, couldn't fathom a world without you. It was hard enough for him to keep you on the edge of his life, but for you to be gone completely. He would have died right there with you.

He walks the dark streets of the city, the street lights doing nothing but keeping him on the sidewalk. His mind whirls as he thinks, thinks that maybe it's time. Maybe he should just tell you. But that nagging fear creeps back in and he questions himself again. Step after step he walks, not really knowing where he's going. The night air crisp on his cheek as he tries to find his courage. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking before he finds himself standing outside your building. Still unsure of how this is going to go, he decides to step inside.

Knock, just one. A small little sound, the thud that sounds after is what gets you off the couch. He's here. God, what were you going to do? To say? That you loved him, that you know it could never be a real thing between you. That the last few days were the best of your life but you knew it couldn't be permanent? All that sounds nice in your head, but-

“Hi, I got you this,” he says, when you open the door, his head leaning against the doorframe when he hands you a kebab, “you forgot that you were meant to-”

“Hey, thanks. Come in,” you say, putting the kebab on the counter. It would keep and this was more important than dinner. You weren't even sure you’d be able to stomach any food with everything going on in your head right now.

“Glad I didn't need to break-in this time,” he jokes, a dry laugh echoing from the back of his throat. The words he wants to say get lost in his nerves. His eyes dart around the room, trying not to notice that you were still in that alluring black dress.

“Are you ready to talk now?” You ask, taking a seat on the lounge as you watch him begin to shuffle on his feet.

“It's difficult,” he says, shrugging off his coat. The woolen material feeling like it's constricting his body, his chest tight when his eyes fall on your patient form. Fuck, he had meant to rehearse on the way here, practise the exact words that would get you to forgive him, keeping his face open while not giving him away.

“Billy, please. Just the truth,” you plead, curling your legs up underneath you. You were ready to hear whatever has clouded his thoughts, caused him to snap and was keeping him from looking at you directly.

He paced and paced. Unsure of what exactly to say. How to convey how he felt, had felt without you pushing him away again. Instead you offer him a branch.

“These last few days with you,” you say looking up at him, his eyes still scanning the room while his feet take him from one end to the other, “thank you for coming,” finally he stills looking at you like a deer lost in the headlights. “I - this time of year is hard and having you here. It meant-” everything, you want to say - “a lot to me,” you decide on instead.

“You know,” he says sitting down next to you, “I would've come, day or night. For you.” He takes his hand in yours and your eyes stare at the ground. There was an intensity in his eyes, something you hadn’t noticed before and it was overwhelming. It felt like he could see you, all of you and he wasn’t scared, worried or pitying, instead he was intrigued, adoring and maybe a bit in awe. It was too much, you didn’t want to give yourself too much hope or stop him now that he was finally ready to open up.

Fuck, he wants you to look at him. Wants to know if you can see it, see his heart nearly bursting out of his chest. His thumb tracing lines along the back of your hand, the gesture comforting him and reassuring him that you hadn’t run from him, “I just, I wish it was you that called and not Frank,”

“I couldn't, didn't want to be a bother,”

“So you can bother Frank and not me?”

“I didn't call him.” You state, staring up at him for the first time since he sat down and you’re making that face. Your lips pouting, eyes wide and your eyes crinkling in confusion at him. He believes you, your eyes are so sincere and he knows he's ruined because nooone could ever compare to the way you see him. He feels you try to pull away, but his grip tightens around your hand.

“Can I just explain, please, before you push me away again,” he asks, readying himself for the knife, the one that will finally cut you away and he'll never get to see that smile or hear your laugh again. “Just let me explain,” he begs, thinking that he'll get on his knees if he has to.

“Explain then,”

“You- Ugh. Why is this so hard?” he berates himself.

“Just take your time,” you encourage him, moving your thumb to graze along the inside of his hand.

“I can't, fuck,” he sighs, unable look at you when he says it, instead opting to stare into the dark void of the tv, he couldn’t face the look on your face when he- when you reject him.

“Since the first time we met, you remember?” He asks, the memory flowing freely in his mind.

He'd hopped off the RV Castle right behind him. The air was still, the scent of blood and oil filling the air and all at once the air had been knocked from his lungs. Marching toward him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. How you made fatigues look hot he would never know, but the powerful way you had carried yourself. The fierce look of defiance in your eyes, reflecting his own. He was captivated from the very first glance and when you introduce yourself as their superior officer Billy knew he was done for. How could anyone compare to the defiant little war goddess that stood before him that day, shouting orders like she was born to do it.

There was someone though, this woman. His little Birdie who sat next to him now. So different from that warrior he had first met, more open, more of everything. All your baggage hanging in the air between you as he tries and fails to tell you precisely just how much you mean to him.

“We've been friends a long time,” he starts, the words forming in his mouth before his brain can tell him to shut up, “we saw a lot together, felt-” no, he needs to ease into it, “yet I had no idea, you felt so strongly, truthfully. I thought I was dreaming when I saw you crying at my bedside. Sure we were friends, but I,” he stammers, “I never really knew that you cared so much. Frank. He told me it was you that carried me out, that it was you that had gone after me and not him.” He hears you mutter a curse at that, but keeps going. “I thought, maybe that meant, but I wasn't sure. I'm still not sure.” He takes a deep deep breath, he just needs to say it, get it out just fling the fuckin words in the air and let you decide if you want him or not. “After this week the thought of leaving you here alone. Not getting to see your sleepy face in the mornings or that sweet little smile right before you go to sleep. I just- “

“Hey, it's ok,” you say, taking his chin in your hand and turning his face to you, “I get what you mean,” you do, kind of. The cogs in your mind turn as you try to put everything together. The words, the way he had been acting, the altercation with Matt. He was trying his best to tell you that he needs you, probably as much as you need him. You feel a kindle of hope spark in your chest, maybe he did feel the same. Was pushing the right thing to do? He was finally able to get the words out, what if you push too hard and he leaves?

“Do you?” He whispers, his breath fanning your face, those beautiful dark eyes locking with yours. Hope sparking through him then, maybe he didn't have to say. Didn’t need words, he was always better with actions, maybe this would be easier.

“I think so,” your heart is pounding in your chest, his face was so close. You pull him a bit closer, leaning your forehead into his and closing your eyes. Just feeling him so close, having him here, it was easy. Like you'd been doing it forever. “You made it easier for me to get up, to face a club even,” you laugh, your noses brushing as you did, “is it selfish that I don't want you to leave?”

“Very,” Billy opens his eyes, your lashes fluttering against his cheek. Now, it was now. He mirrors you, his hand gliding up your neck to grasp you. Your eyes slide open and he can barely see the beautiful swarms of colour in them. “I don't want to leave,” he admits, staring into those perfect eyes. His voice steady as you keep each other close, he watches your eyes, a light flickering behind them.

He doesn't want to leave, he wants to stay with you. You never even thought that was a possibility. Your mind reels as you try to comprehend his meaning but-

His lips, soft and warm, brush lightly against yours. Silently asking, seeking, testing to see if he was pushing you. When his lips collide with yours, you jump in surprise. Shock that that just happened. The world clicks into place, everything all together like a puzzle finally finding the last piece. The anger, the sweetness, all of it. He thought you knew, expected you to be able to see past it, but you were blinded by your own feelings and now everything you have wished for was finally happening, your fingers grazing your lips. It was only a second, but you open your eyes and see that he’s starting to flee.

He's an idiot, of course you'd recoil. He shouldn't have kissed you. He had thought that- it didn't matter. It was definitely over now. He can't even look at you, worried that you'll be disgusted in him.

“Where are you going?” You ask, was he just going to drop this revelation on you and run? Like you had done to him? You can’t let him leave, you need to tell him.

“I just came to tell you I'm sorry,” he turns from you raising his voice to hide his shame, “and that I love you,” he shouts in frustration, “and now that I've ruined everything I'm going to leave.”

“What??” You ask, did you just hear him correctly? Your hand reaches his arm, grabbing him by the elbow, he still won't look at you.

“I'm sorry,” he says in a soft voice, “I didn't mean to, I'll just go.”

“Billy look at me,” you say when he tries to reach for the door handle, “look at me,” starting to get annoyed with him you grip his chin and turn his face to you. Pulling him down to you press your lips into his, holding his face close to yours so he can't run away. When you finally pull back you sigh, “You just surprised me, i- please don't go.” you plead.

You look so sincere as he stares down at you, a large genuine smile on your face as he brushes your hair from your face. “If you want me to stay, Birdie I'll stay.” Fuck, he didn't know what he was doing, you had just kissed him and that's all he could say? He never wants to leave now. He grips your hand cautiously following you, scared that if he moves too fast he'll spook you.

Your hand slides down his arm taking his hand in yours as you lead him back to the couch. “Did you mean it?” You ask when you're finally sitting, “what you said?”

“Yes, but-” he's cut off by you leaning forward pressing in, kissing him again with a fierce desire of your own. Love pouring through you and into your lips as his tongue seeks entrance, you open your mouth wider deepening the kiss, this was- fuck was it a dream?

“I love you too,” you admit between breaths the deep love that you have for him overwhelming you and begging you not to part from his soft lips.

He can barely hold back, his hands clasping your jaw, his tongue gliding through your mouth. This. This is what his life had been missing. Fuck you were perfect, he was prepared for you to pull away but for you to chase after him, to kiss him back. He could barely fathom how lucky he had gotten that you didn't just kick him out. He deepens your kiss, pulling you onto his lap. His lips not leaving yours and his hand travels along your back. Your legs landing on either side of his thighs, your kiss was heaven and he never wants to leave.

Your hands move from his face, combing through his hair pulling on it slightly as you press your body in him, you need to be closer, need to feel him more. “Billy,” you moan into his lips, “can we,” his lips travel down the column of your neck, you arch back allowing him to feel every part of you.

He couldn't get enough, as he tries to lick and suck on every part of your exposed skin. His hands feel what his mouth can't reach. He needs you, needs to be as close as he can. The rasp in your voice as you ask him to take you to bed almost had him melting, turning to dust on the spot. Immediately he lifts you, your beautiful legs wrapping around him while his hands grip your ass and he leads you to your room. Your hands ripping at this shirt and throwing it on the ground beneath his feet as he carries you.

Gently he leans you both down on the bed, his body covering yours in the most delicious way. His hair fanning down around his face, your hand moves on instinct to brush it away. Your eyes never waver when he peels you from your dress, his long fingers sending shivers all over your skin with every touch. You close your eyes when the dress exposes your stomach, the scars glinting in the darkness of the room.

He needs to see, he thinks, reaching over to turn on the light on your bedside table. He takes your hands in his when you try to cover yourself, he recognizes the shame in your eyes. But he can’t stand it, more than anything he wants you to see yourself the way he sees you. “Don’t hide from me,” his soft lips caress the marks along your stomach, “I see you,” kissing his way up your torso, “Strong, kind, fearless,” every word punctuated by a kiss. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs in your ear.

His words resonate in your head, he meant them. Truly meant them. He saw you in a way that no one else ever had, saw the best and still loved you after he had seen the worst. “Billy,” you moan when he whispers in your ear, “should we take things slow?” you ask, more out of worrying that you’re pushing too much. You want this, have always- but if he needs to go slow, you can wait.

“We waited so long already, doesn’t that count?” he says, pulling back to give you space. His hand gently caresses your face, “You tell me to stop Birdie and I will,”

“No, don’t stop,” you pull him down on top of you, his warm skin grazing against yours, pressing together while he settles between your legs. His hand flicks at the hem of your panties, sliding his hand underneath and into your pussy.

“Fuck, so wet,” he moans, spreading your juices up and down, his thumb curling around your clit, while his index finger prods at your entrance.

“Always,” you moan arching up into him, “Like this,” his finger slides in so easily, “around you,” you gasp as he finger begins to fuck into you.

“Fuckin hell,” he moans, leaning down to kiss up your neck.

“Yes,” your hands wind through his hair, nails scraping down his back.

“That's it, grind into my hand,” he presses in harder, his fingers moving fast swirling around inside you and your pussy clenching around him he knows he's found it.

The circling on your clit, combines with Billys pressing into your g spot and you feel the pressure start to build, “Billy, Yes,”

“You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that,” he moans, keeping his same motion while his lips press into yours, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “Let go,” a simple thing: his eyes stay open, he waited too long to see this, dreamt of it. He can’t miss a second of your orgasm, he watches your face contorting in ecstasy that he was giving you, but you were giving him so much more. He can’t bring himself to stop, he’s greedy for more, he wants it all, all of you.

“We don't have to,” he says, gently kissing along your neck, his fingers still lazily glancing along your thighs, his hard cock grinding into the mattress. Fuck he wants you, wants to make you his. But he needs you to want it, to want him.

Fuck, you havent come like that in ever. You want him, want him inside you and now he's pulling back, no you can't have that.” Billy,” you whisper pulling him closer and lifting your pussy up to meet his hard cock, “please, don't make me beg”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he says, lining his cock up with you and slowly you feel his thickness stretch you, parting and massaging your whole pussy. Both of you whispering a soft fuck when he's all inside. It felt divine and sinful, his pelvis grinding into your clit while your eyes stayed glued to one and others. You were lost in his eyes, awe of how this beautiful man felt inside you. His cock grinding into the spot inside you, slow and delicately he fucks you, your hands dancing along each others bodies, rolling and writhing along the soft sheets of the bed. Lost in the feel of each other. Neither of you worrying about climax instead focusing on feeling.

“Billy, kiss me,” you moan, pulling his face back up to yours from your neck. Your tongue swirling in his mouth, your teeth nipping at his lips while his moans mingle with yours. Releasing his face, your hands travel down his arms, feeling at his toned biceps, his strong veiny forearms. Your hand meets his, twining your fingers together.

Billy presses down, bringing your hand above your head. His eyes moving from your perfect face, to the strong grip you have on his hand, how comparably small it seems when held in his own. The little moans and gasps leaving your lips as he fucks into you making him feel insane.

“I want you to cum,” BIlly moans, taking your other hand in his and pressing them both above your head, “I need to feel it,”

“Feels so good,” you pant, pressing your hips up into him. Your pussy clentching and clinging to every inch of his cock as he withdraws.

“Wrap your legs around me. Yeah, like that. Grind into me, Birdie,”

“Shit,”

“Yes, Yeah. I can feel you getting tighter,”

“So…Clo-”

“Oh. Yeah. Oh Fuck. FUck. Bab-””

“Hands,” Billy lets go of your hands. You grip his shoulders, your nails pressing in deep enough to leave a mark. Your mouth opens, but only the pants and chants of Billy's name echoing from your lips.

Your pussy like a vice as he tries to thrust out. Your orgasm coating his cock, his name on your lips, your eyes hazily staring up at him. His fingers dig into your face, pouring his moans into your mouth, his cum flooding your pussy while he stares into those beautiful eyes of yours, “I don't,” he pants, “I don't want stop,” he softening cock still lazily fucking into you while his hands gently caress your cheek.

“Then don’t” you whimper, pressing him down on top of you.

AN: So, is this the end for our lovely pair? Maybe? My brother is getting married this weekend and I wanted to get this up before I leave tomorrow.

Taglist:

@profoundme444 @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @restingbitchsblog @nyctophiliiiaa @misstimeless @hummelmi

#billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #female!reader x billy russo #billy russo x you #reader x billy russo #the punisher fanfic #billy russo x female reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine

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kirnet · 4 months

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trying to write something semi serious about characters named bajablast and crunchwrap supreme. horrifically out of character bc i dont know these people yet. <1k words

“I don’t like animals.”

She already hated the damn thing, spent the whole journey back holding it an arm’s length away by the scruff as it spat and clawed at her. Never mind that it was newly orphaned and almost ripped apart by jackals, Hifusa had saved its hide and she expected a little gratitude.

Skribyld watched helplessly as the kitten shrank deeper into the corner, puffed up like a dandelion. “The Yellowjackets are not fit to care for a full grown coeurl,” he sighed, already imagining a new recruit trying to ride it around the barracks only to be shredded to ribbons. “My friend-“

“I don’t want it.”

“- I leave this baby coeurl in your capable hands.” Skribyld skirted around the thing until Hifusa was the closest person to it. “You are the adventurer here. You may go anywhere you wish, and I know that you have a fierceness to match this creature.”

Hifusa shifted for the first time, the wood of her heavy spear digging between her shoulder blades. Everyone was always pawning off their issues onto her, like it was her job description or something. At least the coin purse tied to her belt felt comfortably heavier. She stepped forward, noticed how Skribyld’s shoulders tensed a fraction, and crouched in front of the kitten. Blood still matted its spotted fur. Spittle flecked her hand as she reached out and picked it up by the scruff again, her bored expression never changing as it fought to tear out a piece of her arm. Hifusa shrugged, the kitten bobbing with the gesture. “I’ll keep it for when food is scarce.”

Skribyld paled. “I- very well. Best of luck. Now, I have other matters to attend to.” He cleared his throat, saluted, turned stiffly on his heel and marched away, no doubt to stand in some other hidden corner until she had left.

“What’s the story with the coeurl?”

Hifusa expertly ignored him as she tended to the fire, the hours before of one-sided silence the perfect practice for this moment. Thancred blew out an exaggerated sigh, no amount of malice in his voice as he flattened his bedroll. “Fascinating.”

They were camped on some desert bluff, the glow of Camp Drybone’s aetherite crystal visible over the horizon. They were here to ambush someone, or be ambushed, Hifusa hadn’t listened to the explanation. She was here now, it was something to do, and she got paid, so if Thancred understood the operation she had no reason to start tuning in now. Besides, someone needed to think about supper. She skewered pieces of myotragus steaks onto thin sticks, tossing the kitten a hunk of raw meat before putting the kebab into the coals. The kitten leapt and snatched it up midair, landing back in the sand in a flurry of claws.

“Figures you’d have a cat. You just seem like a cat person,” Thancred continued when his first remark was answered with stony silence. “Quiet, more introspective. Though, if I must be honest, Hifusa, you hardly strike me as the type for company at all. Why do you take it with you?”

“Because it doesn’t ask me inane questions,” she grumbled, washing her hands in a bowl of water from a stagnant lake nearby.

“Ah! So you can speak!” Thancred’s laugh was like birdsong as Hifusa bristled. The expression he wore was entirely too smug. “I mean no offense. I respect the little guy. You know it tried to join your fight with Ifrit? Took a Flame to hold it back.” Added under his breath, “Almost at the cost of his arms.”

If Hifusa was capable of smiling, she might have. Instead she tossed the kitten an onion to bat around as she worked on prepping the vegetables. Already the beast had started to grow, its limbs lengthening and whisker appendages sprouting from its muzzle. In a few months it would surely be too large to ride on her shoulder anymore, not that she ever allowed it to. If Thancred felt Hifusa’s silent pride, she felt his shame wafting into the air with the smoke. The unsaid “The runt was more useful than me.” Hifusa didn’t care to console him. Half-circles of onion spattered in a small pan.

The blissful silence did not last for long. “What’s his name?” Thancred slowly reached a finger out towards the kitten, only to snatch it back when it tried to take everything before the knuckle.

“Doesn’t have one.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Hifusa had nothing to say to that, so she didn’t. The kitten, now bored of the paper shreds it had made from the onion, curled up beside her, its back soaking up the heat from the fire.

The light danced in Thancred’s eyes as he watched. “Mistress Ba’jablast, I apologize for the accusation, but something tells me you’re really soft at heart.”

He laughed throatily when she speared a vegetable, severing it clean in half. “Message received. I shall be silent for the remainder of the night, unless I must tell you how good your cooking will taste.”

Unfortunately he did, many times, even though Hifusa purposely burned the kebabs. He offered first watch and Hifusa accepted, her lance kept mere inches away. She lay back against her bedroll, single eye pointed to the stars, as the kitten curled itself under her chin, rumbling so powerfully the earth might have split open beneath them. “Get comfortable already you little bastard.” And then so quietly that she almost couldn’t hear her own voice, her lips pressed into orange fur: “Night, Crunch.”

Thancred thanked the darkness for hiding his victorious smile.

#hifusa ba’jablast #mina plays ff #my writing #i dont really know thancred yet or his way of speaking or if hifusa will even lik #like him but i do know that she currently does not like him and the only people she likes are her cat and miounne #she’s such a bitch!!!

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why-even-ask · 1 year

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I headcanon J. S. Steinman as a Cypriot. And it works.

Aphrodite's birthplace is in Cyprus and we all know how much Steinman loves Aphrodite. You know, make him a Jewish Cypriot. His family might as well come to Cyprus during the Ottoman period (late 16th century onwards) or even the late 19th century.

It very much works. Look at him. He looks like some Nicosian you'd see in your uncle's kebab shop or something. Just some guy you'd drink zivania and KEO with.

Wanna read more? Click on.

I say he has a mixed family of Turkish Cypriots, Greek Cypriots, and of course his Jewish roots. I mean, Cypriots are kind of chill with religion; for example, the Linobambakis would have both Christian and Muslim traditions and celebrations. Nothing conflicts with anything, you just have a personal relationship with religion over there.

So, here's our favorite Jewish (and Greek and Turkish) Cypriot who worships Aphrodite.

[Using the "There's Something in the Sea" data to build a 'canon' background here.] So, he vanishes from the US around the late 1940s, right? Apparently, he had a friendship with someone for 32 years. Let's say that their friendship started around 1918. Steinman was known for his face reconstruction work at a young age, and it makes sense because it would line up with the First World War. If we say that Steinman took only a few years of education to get to that degree with extraordinary success, it would mean that he was in the US at least by 1914.

It means that, in the game (Bioshock 1 - 1960), Steinman is at least 65 years old.

And, well, building a headcanon here: Let's say that his family left Cyprus because of the British occupation getting stricter with taxes and even hinting at conscription if/when the war broke out.

Now, imagine him.

He still misses home during his studies. He complains about not being able to find zivania (Cypriot drink) to drink. His family sometimes visits Cyprus and sends him some halloumi cheese over. He even visits Cyprus at some point and brings some cattle bones from the empty fields over Nicosia, say, Kythrea. He has them in his student dorm on his shelf.

I mean, don't think of a city when I say Kythrea or something. Think of a village, a very small one. Imagine him growing up there. He steals from the melon fields of the neighbors. He knows which wild weeds to pick to eat. Hell, he even experiments with which herbs are good for healing purposes, as his grandmother is a village elder who people go to for that kind of stuff. He learns that the branch of pharmaceutics exists just for that. Then, though, his focus shifts to medicine. Most importantly, surgeries --face reconstruction and all that. He's around 15 or something, they leave Cyprus.

Now, it's around the 1930s. Steinman is well over 30 at the time. His family had gone back to Cyprus at some point because they couldn't handle the US. His father picks the field up, and his uncle and his mother are running the barns & farm. Sometimes when Steinman visits, his uncle asks him to check the health of the cattle. "I'm not a vet!" doesn't work for Cypriots, you gotta do what you gotta do, lol. He stays there for half a year as a break and thinks about staying and working there as a vet because he really misses home... but the Second World War breaks out. The Brits are trying to draft up people for the Cyprus Regiment to fight in Europe or Northern Africa, especially those who know English being very much preferred... and Steinman has to flee once again. He tries to take his family to come with him as well, but they refuse. They cannot part from Cyprus once again.

Hell, the Brits manage to "convince" his father and uncle to join the Regiment. His mother goes to the US to stay with Steinman because it's hard being so lonely there. Steinman is making good money but you know, his father and uncle are deep in the war already and were as stubborn as mules about not coming to the US.

By the end of the war, his father gets injured, and they get a residency permit for the UK as a "gift" or something. His father decides to live there because he cannot work in the field easily anymore. His mother follows suit. Only his uncle remains in Cyprus. Steinman is alone in the US again.

He also read about Cypriot mythology, by the way. He learnt that Cyprus was Aphrodite's birthplace and now he believes that it's all fate that he is the best face reconstruction surgeon. He believes that he should work with "beauty" as well, and starts worshipping Aphrodite in the private and takes up aesthetic surgery.

He briefly visits Cyprus every once in a while. It's not horrible, but it feels lonely as hell. At least he has his uncle still running the farm, so they hang out and all that. When his uncle dies in the late 40s, though, he permanently goes back to the US.

He's now over 40. He expects to have a feeling of home, right?

The US doesn't feel right, though. There's business, yes, but he wants a home. He wants a place he can belong in. He feels like he needs to erase his name and face off the earth to ever belong somewhere, which feels impossible.

Until... Rapture happens.

Does he miss Cyprus? A bit, of course. But he knows he couldn't have lived there. It's a memory, but quite a strong one. At some point, he manages to convince Fontaine to smuggle him some zivania. For Fontaine's surgery (the Atlas thing, you know), Fontaine brings him soil from the fields, some molohiya (a cookable weed also called Jew's Mallow), and crates full of zivania and a new brand: KEO. When Steinman asks what it is, he tells him that it's the new fad around Cyprus, established in 1949. It's good beer, truly.

And, well, Fontaine had brought him so much zivania and KEO that he doesn't run out of them until his death.

#here speaks my Cypriot blood #he's Jewish as told by the creators I think #and I thought; okay; we got Jewish Cypriots over Cyprus as well #and he pretty much seems like just some guy I'd encounter 'round Nicosia hehe #he would fit PERFECTLY in.#give us some Cypriot representation damn man we're chill I swear lol #EEEEEEYYY NAPAN VRE GUMBAREEEE #EISAI GALA RE MLK;;; ÖLMEDİN MİYDİ BEA?#[ in mixed greek and turkish dialects of cyprus; switching randomly: eey whatcha doing pal? are you okay ya wanker? haven't you died eh?]#my Cypriot (specifically Nicosian lol) father would very much adore it if i wrote this as a story #but how could i explain to him that this is just some fucked-up character headcanons for a game about uuuuuuuh #'So dad; theres this game you kill people with a wrench BUT IT'S ACTUALLY SO DEEP IN POLITICS AND IS A MASTERPIECE-#Dad are you listening??'#ahajalkdgjsfsdf #tw alcohol #alcohol #okay there it was #i had SO MUCH FUN #bioshock 1 #bioshock #j s steinman #j. s. steinman #steinman bioshock #dr steinman

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