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#its subtle but you have to know how much they mean to me
mariasont · 2 days
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The Receptionist - S.R
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a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader
summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz
warnings: fluff
wc: 0.8k
The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.
With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.
You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"
You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?
He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.
He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.
With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.
"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"
The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.
"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."
His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.
A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.
"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."
As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.
It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.
"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"
You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.
"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"
Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"
"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."
As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."
He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 
"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."
"What gave it away?"
You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."
With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 
Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.
"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"
"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."
You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."
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lightbulb-warning · 8 months
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16 classmates means 256 potential dynamics to explore if we only consider 1 on 1 interactions (which i will! ...until this sentence ends) and that means 256 drawings. considering that group interactions exist and it can be any combo that is... a way larger number.
i have 2 hands, 0 time and too much ambition!!
haha! oh no.
#i would like to live my life and also fundematally tear apart my hpfxtn from the inside out and roll in its guts#that's not really possible unfortunately#because TIME#bitches love to hate on me for “quality over quantity uwu” which is valid as FUCK babe you do you#i need to do me and me wants to be engulfed in the concept of interaction. yes specifically through ship art.#that means gotta go fast.#as in. i get told a lot i should not try to improve my drawing speed because i draw fast enough. they fail to consider that i want to!!!!#my brain is an enigma to me too im a barely functioning human if me having social competence comes in the form of free art then#my therapist is gonna make so much fun of me i guess#/lh#mind you. this here talking to myself? this is all silly bullshit ego. i know very well whatever i WANT to do ill end up drawing koquichechi#“ok me we made a plan to practice drawing subtle understated emotions with charact-” “what if we drew koquichechi slapstick instead”#“but the PLAN??” “look at that. it's koquichechi.”#and then i babysit myself into FORCING myself to draw shit i want to draw and would enjoy drawing but it takes SO LONG#an doing things that take time *takes time*. outrageous. how dare you. i hate it. (bla bla bla time is an illusion i KNOW)#and im still figuring out subtle. groooooaaaaaaannnnnnnnn!!!!!!!#eh whatevs!#whether i make ANY of my bullshit projects real or not what matters is having fun with it before i die /lh#its gonna be okay#*yearning* i just think itd be cool!!#shut up maiora#rambling#i get threatened with violence constantly by art friends. they're so completely right.#anyway tell me all about your rare-pairs if you want!! i might scribble em in my free time :>#(use the ask box)#(yes platonic too!)#(i think itd be fun 👉👈)#(i wanna hear people's thoughts!!)#(might be done in pencil ^^')#(im getting distracted HAVE A NICE DAY BUHBYE)
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salsflore · 1 year
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i think i should kill all my f/os with my own two hands btw
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ghostabocky · 1 year
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thinking about kh3/khux/khdr and wondering if there’s any iconography or characters who have the potential for the same sort of intrigue as lingering will/the mysterious figures/the kh2 secret ending
#angel.txt#i mean this in like... how we hear ''the disappeared'' when fighting the kh1 enigmatic man#and then we hear it again in kh2 when we fight xemnas for the first time#how we know nothing abt who or wat lingering will is until we hear motifs from rage awakened come back in terra's theme#and finally see the conclusion of his story#the entire kh2 secret ending and it's blatant recreation at the end of bbs#things that are like. very much different from theories being proven true‚ like the luxu-xigbar reveal#bc we didn't know anything abt xemans in kh1 or terra in kh2 or young xehanort in bbs!#and im looking at like... ok there's yozora#but we know his face even if he says its not what he ''really looks like''#so it already isn't going to have the same sort of intrigue as the mysterious figure/enigmatic man/lingering will#and there's also dark inferno but the music that plays during that boss is. the same as like half the kh3 bosses#there's nothing to look forward to in that regard#kh3/khux also have secret endings that play around with concepts we're familiar with to a certain degree#so im like. i think im just 👀 at sigurd rn#faceless and also confirmed to be the person narrating in the kh4 teaser? hmm?#now give me smth in missing link that'll HIT DIFFERENT in kh4#sorry im probably making no sense lmao#i just think that sort of subtle excitement has been missing from recent kh stuff#that moment of realization as you recognize a musical motif‚ or the satisfaction of an answer at the end of a long story#im not really here for like. *who* the MoM is unless its like. oh shit we've heard this theme before. oh god oh fuck
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arundolyn · 2 years
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thoughts on Reppuu II
An Attempt Was Made
the violin around the halfway point was an?? interesting choice? honestly probably the best part however unfitting. everything else.. hm. the part at 3:30 is sorta hype that was cute. but the weird brass parts and the beginning and end aren't it. yuhki tried. mixed success
i just got to the end help i had genuinely never heard it before what the fuck. was that necessary. lost points for that
#cawing#at age 6 i was born without a face#blazblueposting#i cannot express what it's lacking#the cute synth parts from the original for sure. i have no idea how to explain it but im SURE you know what i mean bc though kinda subtle#its VERY noticeable#and also the drums dont sound as bad but i mean thats all the IIs the drums are awful in all of them#and the!!!! fuck i have NO idea what that is. whatever the syncopated stuff in the bg is#most noticeable in the 'verses'#im trying so hard to figure out what the fuck that is bc it sounds JUST like. rhythmic shamisen plucking#if you get it you get it.#like someone doing percussion but on a shamisen. i sound like a fucking crazy person#anyway those are the two big things it's missing#and also its... hm. missing. heart.#so much of the charm of the original is lost through all those things that were dropped that i mentioned#AND the.... i dont know how to put it into Words. the buildup to the refrain is lacking!!!! less hype. less Bang Shishigami Energy#like its not way off base but also its not nearly as spot on as the original. the original is literally SOOOOOOOOOOO him#its genuinely perfect. immediate mental image conjured of ronin gai and him being a dumbass#SORRY ALL OF THESE TURN INTO ME BEING LIKE 'IT SUCKS HERE'S WHY' I HOPE IM NOT UPSETTING ANYONE?#i for sure need to make a tag for this huh. fhjdkhflajh#its funny i was actually like JUST talking to a friend about reppuu earlier#there is One acceptable II#music opinions with crow
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falsementor · 2 years
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macaque is definitely the type of antihero who will use his evil, intimidating reputation as a force of good. just... in a very apeshit way.
#✘ — i was good but then i quit. ( headcanons. )#✘ — forget everything you used to know. ( study / rambles. )#just thinking about how he motivated mk to get his powers back in season 3#just 'oh? you don't have your powers?? guess you cant stop me from crushing your friends. some hero you are :)))'#its the juxtaposition of the winning side and the king the prince and the shadow where in that episode ---#he's NOT fucking around anymore. he takes mk down in 3 hits. thats how you know he's been holding back on the kid#its like... macaque doesn't believe himself to be good - or capable of doing good things... but he still WANTS to help#so his answer to that is 'well if nobody is going to trust me. if people are only going to expect the worst from me -#- then i guess i may as well use that to my advantage '#thats what i mean by he's very subtle with showing he cares / helping out#its very easy to overlook him and just think he's being a shifty bastard as per usual#does it make the way he goes ABOUT 'helping' good?? no! him traumatizing and smacking mk around is definitely#not okay. and while i don't think he's gonna be doing that AS much post season 3 - i still think he's not redeemed yet#so he's gonna still be doing shifty bastard things#he's still a manipulative jerk saying awful things to ppl. and sometimes i dont think he's actually trying to help#he doesn't really.. care if he hurts ppl's feelings. UNLESS he actually cares about them#which is far and few in-between considering he's mainly out for himself#its HARD to pin down this fucker's intentions because it really just depends on the circumstance and the person in question
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sixosix · 5 months
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wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.
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“What? Giving up already?”
“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”
Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”
“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.
“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”
Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.
You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.
Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”
“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
“Not more than I do,” he says.
“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.
“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.
Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”
“Are you serious?”
“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”
You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.
“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”
It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.
Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.
“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.
“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.
He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.
“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”
“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”
He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.
Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.
“Well?”
You eye him warily. “What do you want?”
“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.
Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.
You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.
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pray4byron · 3 months
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What the…
HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …
PARTNERS !! (and before that!)
Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute
Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread
Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!
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Charlie Morningstar
Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…
Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.
Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc
Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.
She believes that it has its perks, which it does.
Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.
But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …
Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!
You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!
Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.
Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.
You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.
And yes, you do feel the same.
Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.
GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!
GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.
At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.
But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)
GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!
On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things
But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha
At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol
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Vaggie
When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?
Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.
Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.
The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her
Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.
So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.
When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!
Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!
GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)
You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha
At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.
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Angel Dust
Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.
But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?
Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.
Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…
One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!
And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…
Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?
And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.
“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”
And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.
The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.
“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”
The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!
Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.
BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!
And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.
Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.
And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.
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Alastor
When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.
He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.
Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.
He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.
Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!
So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.
BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.
But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.
If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.
But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.
By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.
BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.
And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.
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Sir Pentious
Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.
But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.
You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.
This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.
Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.
“Pen.”
“I like you too.”
“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”
Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…
Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!
BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!
So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?
BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!
BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!
Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!
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Husker
Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.
Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?
You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.
It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”
And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.
So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”
And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”
From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!
BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.
BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.
He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.
‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.
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Niffty
Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.
Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.
So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.
GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.
She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.
Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.
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Lucifer Morningstar
Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.
You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.
Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.
Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.
BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.
BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.
BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.
If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.
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Adam
Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…
Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).
During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…
Hey hot babe,
wanna do more than just fuck? (date)
And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.
BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.
I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!
At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)
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Lute
Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.
And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.
Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.
But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.
And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.
GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)
Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!
— END.
Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)
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mikeystrawberry · 3 months
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Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!
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I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!
Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!
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This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!
(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)
I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.
The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:
Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.
Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.
Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!
Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.
Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.
As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.
In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.
That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.
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Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?
Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!
You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.
Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!
I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!
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(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)
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(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)
You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?
It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.
And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!
Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:
Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?
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Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)
What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:
Hair?
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There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?
Lips?
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I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.
Nose?
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One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!
Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.
I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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lovebugism · 3 months
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Smut request idea: Eddie worshipping reader's tits, who is insecure about their small size (lol totally not projecting 😅)
ty for requesting :D — eddie 'heart eyes' munson sees your boobs for the first time (cw for nudity, but no real smut, 18+ mdni, 1.1k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
On a rainy, post-show night, in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, you decide to be brave.
Buzzing with alcohol, adrenaline, and adoration — a wild concoction rushing like fire through your veins — you take your shirt off for the very first time in front of him. Mostly because your sweater was getting itchy, so you’re not entirely sure how brave that makes you. But your skin burns still, empty like a blank sky, yearning for a warmer touch to fall over you like stars.
In the simplest, most human way, you need Eddie to touch you like you need to breathe air. 
So, when you tugged the fuzzy sweater up and over your head, you hadn’t thought much about doing it. You were too full of need, too unthinking. Head clouded with longing until you developed something short of tunnel vision for the boy underneath you.
It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Isn’t this what girlfriends do with boyfriends?
Eddie’s silence is not reassuring. It feels more like a knife lodged in the very center of your sternum.
You lay the sweater beside you and cross your arms slowly over yourself. Equal parts to hide what you’d just revealed to him and to shield your bleeding, stinging heart.
Eddie’s face twists, pained features swirling like a hurt puppy. “Wait— What are you doing?” he asks in an unabashed whine. His less-than-subtle pout deepens as his chocolate-button eyes flit up to yours.
You keep curling in on yourself, but from where you straddle his thighs, he’s impossible to run away from. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you wonder in a tiny voice, distantly fearful of the answer. 
You don’t have the kind of chest people put on magazines. Maybe you should’ve just kept the shirt on.
Eddie’s ringed fingers smooth around your bare waist. He realizes he’s holding you there for the very first time without any fabric covering you. His chest starts to sparkle. His thumbs rub gently at your ribcage, just below the arms still concealing yourself.
“‘Cause I’m too busy enjoying the view, honey,” he answers with a plush pink and crooked smile. His words are slightly slurred, weighed down by fatigue and desire. “How am I supposed to think when I’m looking at you, huh?”
You make a faint, grumbly noise, features scrunching in disdain at his compliment.
He smiles wider and curls his fingers around the wrists you hold over yourself. There is little force behind his touch, no eagerness to tug your hands away. Instead he just holds you, in a distinctly quiet embrace, telling you silently that you can let your guard down whenever you’re ready.
“So you don’t think they’re weird?”
He answers with an immediate scoff. “No, I don’t think they’re weird— I think they’re beautiful! I think every part of you is beautiful.”
You grow less and less tense in his hold. Your hands start to slip. You let them. 
Bare again in front of him, the boyish glimmer in Eddie’s dark eyes returns. 
The wild cadence of rain on the rusted tin roof resembles the rapid patter of his pounding heart as he ogles at you. And, with his back propped against the driver’s seat, he has the most perfect view of you.
The pale hands along your ribcage slowly start to rise. His warm touch leaves sparkling goosebumps in its wake. He doesn’t stop until his thumbs are settled neatly beneath your breasts.
“I mean— I always knew they’d be pretty, you know?” he mumbles, getting lost in you all over again. You don’t know if he’s talking to you, or if he even knows he’s rambling. “‘Cause when you’d let me feel you up, you know, over the shirt— I always imagined what you’d look like under it…”
He trails off then, forgets how to make words when his thumb rubs over your soft nipple. The gentle stimulation makes it stiffen beneath his touch. Eddie smiles to himself, all boyishly giddy.
“…But I couldn’t’ve, in my wildest imagination, expected this.”
Your chest warms with his affection. You scoff about it, anyway. “You’re such a boy,” you laugh.
“It’s not my fault you’re so pretty…” 
Still cupping your chest, Eddie leans down to kiss you there. A chaste, open-mouthed peck to your pebbled nipple. His heart swells when he hears you moan above him — your nose buried in the strands of his wild hair, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 
Eddie licks his rosy lips when he pulls back from you. 
“See? You’re gonna kill me one day, doll— I swear,” he teases in a joking tone, but means every bit of it. He loves you so much it makes his chest ache. You’ll give him a goddamn heart attack one day if he’s not careful. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding from me this whole time…”
You’re not sure either, now. 
“I was just scared that… I don’t know,” you stammer, clammy hands fidgetting with his intentionally tattered Corroded Coffin t-shirt. You’d helped him cut rips into the white fabric before the show. You distract yourself with the pink lipstick smudge you’d pressed along the neck of it, rubbing hopelessly at a stain that’ll never come off. 
“I was scared that you’d think I was less pretty or something. I don’t know.”
“No,” Eddie recoils immediately, face twisting in abhorrence of the thought. He shakes his wild head at you. “No way. That’s not possible. I think you’re fucking— perfect. And I think that…”
His eyes fall to your chest again. He loses the rest of his words.
A smile blossoms on your face. You don’t think you’ve ever felt prettier than you do right now.
“You think that what?” you tease, hands rising again to twist in his deep brown curls.
Eddie’s button eyes flit back up to you. His ringed hands lift to cup your breasts in his wide palms. They fit just perfect in his hands — like he was made to hold you there. The width of his beam rivals your own. 
“That I just found Corroded Coffin’s next album cover,” he answers.
The sound of your laughter fills the van. Sunshine compared to the rolling rain outside.
“No. No way. That’s not happening,” you refuse, still smiling, as Eddie leans into you again.
You wrap your arms around his neck when he puts his mouth on you. He buries his own laughter against the plush of your breast — along with so many little kisses. 
He doesn’t mind your light-hearted rejection. The only thing Eddie likes more than showing you off is keeping you totally to himself.
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submalevolentgrace · 1 year
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Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.
I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?
I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!
okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:
if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.
that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...
context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.
the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).
but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.
a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.
this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.
okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.
but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.
bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!
but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.
and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.
he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.
so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:
"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."
and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.
i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."
you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.
and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.
in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way
and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!
also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.
by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.
but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.
we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."
but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.
i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.
i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.
and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.
so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:
why does she have a prosthesis?
from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?
and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???
i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.
and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:
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seattlesellie · 5 months
Note
Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?
Sorry of that's too much
perfect fit. ♡
screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”
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She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.
The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.
Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.
You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.
You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?
She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.
Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.
You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.
“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”
"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.
Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”
Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”
You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —
“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"
“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”
“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.
“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.
“I’ll make it fit”
“Know I will”
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maiiiwrites · 9 months
Text
★ | ATTENTION STUDENTS . JPEG
PAIRING ! theodore nott x f!reader
IN WHICH your arrival at hogwarts is stirring up trouble
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you roamed the halls of hogwarts. feeling overwhelmed in a good way. no words are enough to explain how happy you are to finally be here. the transfer process took so long and stressed everyone who handled it. thankfully your parents assigned someone to do the papers for you.
your arrival at hogwarts mid term grabbed everyone's attention. everyone had questions and wasn't exactly quiet about their theories. they wanted to know who, what, where, why you we're here.
"a new student? in the middle of the term?"
"how odd is that?"
"look there she is, the new student"
you continued walking, not bothering to acknowledge the students trying to get your attention. you were only looking forward to one person. in that exact moment, your eyes finally met for the first time in months. you couldn't mask your excitement from that interaction alone.
theodore didn't expect a new student, much less his lovely girlfriend. his gaze softened and a small smile managed to slip through.
two souls finally feeling each others presence after being apart for too long
that's how it went for the next few days. just simple little glances and the occasional exchange of letters. much to theodore's dismay, his subtle actions of affection did not go unnoticed by the group.
blaise was particularly nosey about his relationship with you. he was always the one who caught onto the small smiles across the hall, playing on the thread bracelet on his wrist, and the hidden love letters in his desk drawer.
"sooo.. theodore what's up with you and the new gal," blaise not so subtly asked during breakfast.
theodore perked at the mention of you, "nothing."
"oh come on there's obviously something! at least give me a hint," blaise continued.
"sure. here's a hint, im not telling you."
theodore knew there was no escaping this. they're bound to find out sooner or later. for now, the plan was to stay silent and leave loose ends. leave them curious for a while, but his fool proof plan came crashing down the moment you walked in the great hall.
you smiled at your friends seated at the table. looking forward to having your stomach filled. however, boys surrounded you with gifts and letters before you could even settle down.
you attempted to slip away but they were simply too much. feeling more crowded by the passing second. theodore didn't like how crowded you seemed. the obvious panic on your features was his last straw.
he abruptly stood up from his seat and walked towards you. leaving his friends intrigued by the sudden outburst.
theodore easily made his way to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. the action catching you by surprise until realizing its just theo. your theo.
"everyone back off! you're making my girl feel uncomfortable,"
the whole hall went silent at the confession. the crowd of boys slowly disappeared heartbroken and taken aback from theodore's claim. leaving his act of affection on display for everyone to see.
you turn around facing theodore. finally seeing him up close since your arrival.
"is it just me or you got prettier since the last time i saw you?" you teased.
theodore rolled his eyes and kissed the corner of your lips. "you've been causing a lot of trouble lately," theodore hummed.
you gasp, faking offense by his words. "are you accusing your sweet girlfriend?"
he laughed at your silly antics and hugged you tighter. "never, trouble."
you smiled hearing your special nickname.
"i love you and all but your friends are burning holes through my head," you point, particularly at blaise. theodore finally realized you're both (still) in the middle of the great hall wrapped in each others arms.
he chuckled finding the entire situation funny. theodore finally let you go and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i better go back, trouble."
"does this mean we can visit each other now.." you beamed.
who has he to deny your love and attention. "always."
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© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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miguel-ohara-wifey · 9 months
Text
Spiderverse men when they’re sexually frustrated
Rating: 18+
Peter B Parker
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-He’s the best at hiding it, he gets quieter. And when he does speak his on brand dry deflections get notably bitchier. Before you porn was how he got off. It was a means to an end, there wasn’t anything sexy he found. He just needed a release then he’d go about his day.
-But you, you are sexy. With you it’s a delicious spiral of physical and emotional intimacy only you two shared. And when he wanted more he needed more.
-His pants would get tighter just being in the same room as you, his eyes would fall to his favorite parts of you to grab onto during the act. He’d press his touch to linger longer on your skin. Peter would tenderly dry hump you when you’d let him get that close. Sending every wordless signal in the book that he wants you, he needs you.
-If that doesn’t send the message, he’ll cheekily say hes got something to show you in your bedroom. Tenderly leashing his grip onto your hend as he leads you. Once that doors closed. He kisses you with a fervent hunger.
-Violently rubbing his fingers against your skin, aggressively hammering his hips into yours. Eating away at your lips, and in between gasps he’d say.
“Jesus baby, you gonna tease me without even trying?…do you have any idea what this body does to me…?”
Miguel O’Hara
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-This man isn’t the least bit subtle, it would just take him a while to realize. He’s not a man who lets his guard down easily. Even when he’s in a committed physical and emotional relationship. His baggage often intersects between every milestone of your relationship.
-However when the itch in his mind and dick isn’t scratched for enough. He acts, he gets grabby. Massaging the flush of your ass and even getting hold of your pussy. He doesn’t need to ask when his fingers do all the talking for him.
-If you playfully deny him, he’ll get even angrier. Lashing out more at the spider society members, refusing to eat or drink. Zeroing in on his work praying the audio cues of his holographic computers can drown out the scream of sexual fantasies his head is playing. How desperately he needs you more than sleep and air.
-When you do finally let him hit, foreplay is the name of the game. He just needs to satiate the surface level lust of his fangs tasting the flesh of your throat. Your whimpering and cries for his cock when you denied him earlier.
-Its his payback time as what you done to him he does back ten fold. Denying you his length exploring your insides. Even to the point of you crying, he’d laugh as he humps you with the same fervor he preforms during sex.
“What happened?…thought you didn’t want this…thought my cock rearranging your insides as my tongue takes control of your mouth wasn’t what you needed? Beg for it more and I’ll consider it…”
Hobie Brown
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-Hobies in tune with himself, he knows the burning sensations weaved into his muscles for your touch is cause you two haven’t had much alone time lately. Even if you’re casual, he could go out and fuck someone else whose down. It wouldn’t be the same.
-Like his hands tightened around his cock, crafting friction with his violently shifting grip. His length has a mind of its own, it belongs to you and only you.
-He doesn’t sexually initiate usually, he lets you take the lead in the bedroom department. It’s not all about him and he takes no risks in potentially coercing you into sex. So weeks could pass when nothing happens between you too. And he’s trying to jerk himself off every other night.
-But when you finally go down on your knees, trying to undo his jean zipper. Is when he can finally relent. Tenderly combing his hand into your hair, massaging your scalp as you choke on his cock. He has to resist not giving out right when he feels your tongue on his foreskin.
-Your blowjobs are a thing of art, he creates new rips in his sheets by the violence of his fingernails digging into the fabric. Cause of how good the inside of your mouth feels around him.
“Christ love, Jesus Christ….you’re too good…fuck too good.”
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lemonyboy97 · 2 months
Note
Heyyy I like your writing, and I was wondering if you could do like fluff/comfort of like Val, vox, and/or alastor with a reader who gets really socially anxious and shuts down when they get overwhelmed?
Wasnt sure what gender reader was so i did neutral, thank you so much for the ask! I havent gotten one in forever and i was fresh out of inspo ❤️❤️🫂 love you anon! (Also i threw in different relationship dynamics to spice things up and also because i cant imagine alastor being ANYONES 'boyfriend', that man would go from 'close friend and confidant' to 'fiancé')
Pop in and leave me a request on my new blog!
Fiancé!Vox, Boyfriend!Val, Husband!Alastor (seperate) x gn!anxious!reader
Warnings: brief mentions of sadism, anxious reader (obviously), not quite my definition of a panic attack but close to it
(Im going to do some loose headcannons about each of the boiz, then include a oneshot for each of them)
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Fiancé!Vox
Headcannons:
I feel like Vox would be the best out of the 3 in this scenario, as he's the least sadistic. Vox is a very protective lover, he's also compassionate and doting (behind closed doors). If Vox notices you (its really a matter of when not if because this man WILL notice) becoming overwhelmed or overstimulated he is gently guiding you away from the crowd to check on you, 'Are you okay?', 'do you want to leave?', 'is there something specific bothering you?' are FAQs (frequently asked questions) His way of dealing with the issue is removing you from the situation altogether- taking you back home, wether thats to your shared apartment or the Vee's headquarters depends on whichevers closest.
Scenario:
You and your fiance, Vox, are at a release event for the newest VoxTech drop. Vox is proudly harping about the newest Tech he’s developed, an even prouder arm around your waist; how could he not be proud with his pretty little love on his arm? (He calls you his ‘pretty little thing’, ‘little love’ no matter your gender or size) He’s so absorbed in his success that at first he doesn't notice the subtle tremble in your hands, or the way you curl into him as if trying to hide, or maybe the way you flinch at the bright camera flashes. But when you let out a barely audible whine Vox immediately turns to you, all ears.
Vox suddenly realizes how overstimulating this all must be; the flashing cameras, the loud and frantic crowd, the music in the background, the shouting, the rowdy demons who are protesting- oh god how could he have been so negligent?
Vox is immediately passing the reins over to Velvette (much to her dismay), and gingerly leading you through the crowd, towards the back door.
“It’s alright, lovely, just through here… There we go…”
His words are gentle, and the hands on your shoulders to guide you are 10x more so. He leads you out the back and to the limo, and once you’re sequestered away inside he just waits- He knows when you’re ready for touch you’ll initiate. He knows that for now, just the knowledge that someone is aware and looking after you is enough to help de-escalate the situation.
“There you go, doll, breathe yeah? In…. Out…. In…. Out… good job, love, doing so well for me”
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Boyfriend!Valentino
Headcannons:
Val is definietly more of a 'what do you mean?' Kind of guy, or 'just breathe?', you know? We know from his workers (ahem angeldust ahem) that he isnt the most... understanding with weaknesses and the like. So- while I feel like Val's approach is a bit more 'deal with it by not dealing with it' than Vox's, it is still heartfelt for his wonderful gf/bf/partner. Even if he wont directly address it, Valentino is the type to try and reassure you through touch, wether thats what you need or not, thats what he's got because this man KNOWS he is brash and he doesnt want to make things worse.
Scenario:
You had walked to Valentino's studio to bring him homemade lunch after he was complaining about his imps being 'inconcievably incompetent'. You are now awkwardly standing backstage, out of sight, as he directs a particularily.... raunchy... scene. You are visibly uncomfortable with screams and various sounds of... mixed sensations.. echoing around the set, along with flashing lights and dizzying scents. Altogether they make an array of overstimulating inputs, and after setting down said lunch on a side bench, a pretty note tucked into the lip of the basket, you stumble back outside, trying to catch your breath. Val follows you shortly after, he caught sight of you from across the set.
Valentino carefully sits beside you, pulling you into his side.
"You alright there, babycakes?"
You shakily nod, but Val sees right through you. He sighs and kisses your temple as he absentmindedly rubs your shoulders.
"Thought I warned you 'bout my work hours, baby"
You slowly explain that you just wanted to surprise him with lunch and he smiles, kissing the inside of your wrist.
"Damn, sugar, shoulda started with that, hm? Why don't I pop in and grab it- then we can share it out here while you get your head back on."
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Husband!Alastor
Headcanon:
This man. This. MAN. It can go one of two ways depending on where your relationship is with him- but in this you are married so- he would be so attentive- like. You would barely be feeling the 'oh hey, this is a lot' feeling and Al would pick up on it and knight in shining armor you away from it. Alastor just KNOWS. He has like a sixth sense when it comes to you. He is so finitly attuned to every fibre of your being that you cant even hide it from him. He just KNOWS. Like- you're in cannibal town (because be real y'all go on dates there all the time and Rosie adores you) and the children are being rowdy but 'its alright, i can manage-' oh and there's Susan- 'yes susan, we are married- no, no susan you cant see my ring im a bit worried you might try to eat my finger- No, really i insist-' oop and here comes Alastor, scooping you up with a charming grin, Rosie on his heels. 'Come along now darling, our dinner is waiting'
Scenario:
You and Alastor are in the hotels lobby, greeting guests for a party Charlie is throwing to 'encourage the inhabitants', Alastors hand is protectively on the small of your back like always. The arriving demons are a bit rowdy but nothing too bad- the real issue is the howling, rambunctious laughter coming from the bar, poor karoke all but screamed into the low quality microphone (much to Husk's annoyance), flashing strobe lights arouns the room turning the guests pink, green, blue, pink, green, blue, pink, green, blue-
"Dear?"
Careful fingers snap in front of your face- effectively lurching you out of your spiraling thoughts. You swallow thickly and look up at your husband, shaky smile plastered on your lips.
'Yes, Al?'
He frowns as he gaze flits from one eye to the other, then, his mind seemingly made up, he summons his shadow, scoops you up, and shadow travels back to you twos shared room.
"Oh lovely, this certianly wont do"
He dotes on you, rubbing your tense shoulders, kissing the crown of your head, murmuring sweet nothings to your skin as he lays you down in your shared, king bed. And later, once you're half asleep and content in his arms, he lovingly murmurs,
"No more of Charlie's so-called 'parties' for you, my sweet"
A/n: Reblogs are always encouraged and appreciated! And yes i did like my own post. I am very proud of this, i wrote it in one day WHILE (legally) high on loopy pain medicine
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