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deadghosy · 2 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing great!

So I saw the headcannons of reader as Catnap and Dogday and I fell in love with the way you write! So I was wondering if you could do a headcannon about the reader being bendy from bendy and the ink machine?

Like the reader can draw and bring ink creatures to help around the hotel, maybe draw some decorations for the hotel? Sometimes going full on ink demon form to protect it or just pick up their friends on their back to make them feel taller

And the reader was actually an animator at joey drew studios and died, I think that would be pretty cool!

P.s I would love if the reader was wearing the same suit bendy wore in bendy and the dark revival

HAZBIN HOTEL X BENDY!READER

Prompt: a cute “little” demon becomes a resident who helps with the designs around the hotel!

Starting off. You definitely appeared as baby bendy 😘 with ya cute ass red bow or white bow. What ever you want the bow color as you showed up to the door trying to seem professional as Charlie gushes at your cuteness and lets you in.

The picture of baby bendy in the car, yeah you have that as you literally fuckin' zoom in the hallways drinking apple juice like a bad ass kid….bendy!Reader and chibi!Reader both doing races to make sinners poor😭 lil evil asses….

I imagine Angel dust and Alastor ganging up on you as a team to insult you by your height until you grow up to ink demon from with a roar.

“HOLY SHIT-” “Oh my.” They both said as you they were blew off by the power of your roar. So you felt happy seeing them shocked to see that part of you as Charlie didn’t see it and had commented how adorable you are with your suit.

Shit you are a devil in an angel’s suit‼️

You still wore the suit you had in when you met Audrey…man you miss her. But you are getting taken care of by Charlie and her friends here. Plus her father.

You help design the banners around the place! And even your small ink minions help as well.

I can imagine bendy! Reader being like “fuck it.” Because they can’t reach for the cereal and turn into normal height looking bendy and just starts to act as if it’s normal. While in the background, the crew has pure confusion on their face. Like, “what the fuck? You can be taller?”

“Yeah! Pretty neat right?” “..Im out of here…” husk says walking away as niffty goes up to you excited to talk to you about your height.

You ran over alastor’s foot once….you never speeded over 120 mph in your whole life seeing Alastor chase after you.

I imagine you going to normal height as you are just chilling with your small or long tail swinging and husk gets curious as he picks it up with his paw. “So…this ya tail right here?” You nodded reading the new paper. “So you’re a sinner demon?” “I ain’t nothin'” you said with a smirk as you disappeared in ink.

No one knows what exactly what you are. You don’t have the basic looks to look like a sinner or a hell born. So it’s kinda confusing to other.

You’re obviously a human who died to the ink as you use to animate bendy…so you’re bendy?? Does that make since because whatever you died by is your demon form….hopefully that made sense..

You once went full ink demon mode because a sinner tried to attack at you and husk while just running errands for the hotel. You transformed getting taller with the ink covering your face as you growl and slashes at them with a giant gloved hand covered in ink. And after that husk respected you more.

“Bendy/reader, can you help me make a cute star design?” Vaggie asked as Charlie was trying to make a star gazing banner. You nodded with your cartoony smile and pulls out a marker and started to draw on the air. The star in the air becomes to life as vaggie’s eyes widen.

“Uhm…oh wow. Thanks?” Vaggie says as she walks away with question marks visible while you just smile.

Y’know those dubbed comics where bendy has an accent? I feel like that’s cannon because you and Angel would be babbling about which part of city you guys were from.

I can see sir Pentious and you doing crafts as you made him an ink cartoon flower as he made you a bracelet bead with your name on it.

Lucifer will definitely play violin as you tap dance. Just a wholesome ass moment fr 💗🦆

You one time had fat nuggets in your doom buggy as you guys had shades just chilling around the hotel like bad asses✨

You miss your original family when you were alive and working. But everytime you open your eyes, you are greeted by the sweet comfort of your new family in the hazbin hotel.

You one time made an ink sculpture of your family and you tried to hold your smile but it faltered as you cry at how you missed your family as the ink sculpture melted due to your emotions.

Alastor appeared in your room seeing you sad little state as he comforted you. He had taken a liking to you ever since you joined the crew.

I can see you being childish because of your shortness so you use it to your advantage. YOU AND ALASTOR MAKE YOUR INK DEMONS FIGHT LIKE POKÉMON 😭😭

lol imagine bendy!reader making a whole like of fake ass tarrot cards to fuck with people as you have that smirk on your face.

“You’re gonna get run over toots…watch your back..” “what. The. Fuck-”

They got ran over by a mysterious person and a car….who knew who it was…it was you, you little bastard.

When the hotel has a talent and show day or night, you remembered how you animated bendy to do ballet and tap dancing. So with your information, that’s what you did. Yeah some sinners laughed..but some aplaude as they found it cute and so did your friends

You making ink blob bracelets for your friends as you can make them solid is a goal for real.

Headcannon on how you would try to make ink sculptures, but failing as you huff in anger and smash it with a full ink demon hand as the rest of your body is fine.

Headcannon of you just accidentally leaving ink footprints as you took off your shoes once 😭 niffty doesn’t complain as she likes to clean tho

I can see Lucifer picking your small body up happy for you to be so small as he has started in his eyes. And you are like annoyed at how the cast picks you up like a baby.

LMAO THAT WALMART MEME STOPPP😭😭 LUCIFER PUTS YOU UP TO THE DAMN WALMART CAMERA HAVING ALASTOR ALSO PICK LUCI UP 😭😭

I imagine you and Alastor having either a “bad ass son x calm father” troupe or a “non-biological sibling” troupe as you two get quite along

Your little ass doom buggy is such a weapon when needing to take a troubled guest in the hotel….YOU RAN THEM OVER?! 😨 ALL PEOPLE SEE IS A SMALL ASS INK DEMON HAVING A GUEST SCREAMING AS THEY GET RUNNED OVER TO THE DOOR-

So when the angels came for the battle, you were sure damn ready as you suffocated them in ink and control them into killing their own.

After seeing your full demon form, you definitely had been seen in a different light. They don’t see you as the cute baby bendy they seen you before.

Nah nah. They see you as a grown ass person as you are not in the baby bendy phase but more like the fanart type shit looks. With your charm, you definitely bring in some customers.

HOPED YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AS THIS IS ALL I COULD COME UP WITH 🦆💗 MWAH

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merakiui · 24 days

Text

RABU.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, brief nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied murder/death, implied cannibalism, pregnancy, obsession note - i chatted with @heyyy11 and we discussed noodle shop owner jade!! :D this fic is the result of our thoughts. additionally, it's inspired by maretu's "binomi" and lyrics featured are from mitski's "me and my husband."

i. i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute. and then i’ll be nothing forever. and all of my memories and all of the things i have seen will be gone. with my eyes, with my body, with me.

There’s a pot of perpetual stew sitting on the stove.

It fills the small shop with savory scents, enthralling all who catch its delicious aroma on the air. Your husband of twenty years tends to it every now and then, lifting the lid to stir through its contents with a large wooden spoon. Regulars stop by for a fix of his food and comment much the same thing each time: “That husband of yours sure loves his stew.”

“Oh, he can’t get enough,” you would always reply, giggling at their observations.

You would then scrawl their usual orders in your notepad and they’d give you a knowing look. Still so infatuated even though two decades have passed—aren’t you the sweetest? But you can’t help it. Your husband is everything: affectionate, attentive, a masterful chef…

His forever single twin brother often groused that Jade got all the good fortune. “Y’know, if you’re ever tired of Jade, I’m here for ya,” he’d say, leaning over the counter with a sleazy smirk. “Shrimpy’s free to visit whenever she wants. My arms are always open.”

And Jade would smile tightly at him, brush him away with his broom, all while saying, “I’m afraid the shop’s closed now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow, Floyd.”

He acts in jest. Mostly.

Shortly after your wedding, on your first night as newlyweds, the two of you made a compromise. Jade wanted a family; you weren’t ready to start one. And so, in order to work through this dispute, you came to an agreement: He would be in charge of the prep work for the noodle shop he intended to open—a metaphorical child more than anything. In return, you would take orders and chat with customers. A fair deal, one you thought was attractive in its own right. Jade, ever so patient and understanding, lounged beside you in bed, gesturing towards the ceiling as if attempting to spell out the vision before your very eyes. He spoke so eagerly of his dreams. It warmed your heart.

Naturally, just as passionately, you would support him in his every endeavor.

“What do you think of this name? Rabu Rabu Ramen.”

You rolled over on your side, snuggling closer. You couldn’t snuff the overwhelming elation and tenderness that wrapped itself around you whenever you looked at him. And he was all yours—your husband to love forever, to grow old with, to experience life’s highs and lows together. Your wedding night was just the beginning of what would surely be a riveting romance.

“It’s silly.”

“It’s lovey-dovey.”

“If you like it, I like it.”

“Truly?”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely.”

It wasn’t long before fantasy bled into reality. The both of you found a quaint spot in a quiet neighborhood. It was more hole-in-the-wall than you would’ve liked, but Jade didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes tourists stumbled in, commenting that they would’ve missed it had they not ventured down the narrow path. Jade liked that aspect. It was secretive, peaceful, off the beaten track…

By the end of your first year running the shop, plenty of praise had spread throughout the neighborhood. You learned the locals’ names and faces quickly, committing each to your memory as if there might be an exam later on. They thought you were the cutest, the way you’d take charge of the front while your husband worked diligently in the back. Grandmothers adored you, and they made sure to point out the obvious at every opportunity.

“Omago-san, it’s too quiet in here! You’re still so young. Plenty of time for a family. Tell that husband of yours to get busy!”

You could only offer an awkward smile. “Maybe one day.”

When that ‘one day’ would be, you couldn’t say.

It’s become something of a widely-held belief that Jade can’t make a single bad dish. Everything on the menu is scrumptious. From the homemade noodles to the variety of broths to the additional ingredients, each prepared by Jade’s adroit hand, it’s a feast for the ravenous.

Sometimes customers ask for recommendations, and if you aren’t careful you’ll end up fawning over every dish.

“It’s all so amazing, but I like my ramen with bone broth. My husband makes it better than I do.”

It was true. You couldn’t possibly replicate Jade’s skill in the kitchen. At the very least, when it comes to tea, you’re on an even playing field.

“Just what’s his secret anyway?”

To that question, you could only offer a shrug. “Maybe it’s love?”

Jade told you it was a family recipe—a cherished secret passed through the generations. You thought he’d confess at some point now that you’ve been part of the family for so long, but he’s yet to do so. It hurt at first. You’re married! Family! Jade is smooth about the entire thing, promising to tell you one day, easing all of your worries with sugared sentiments. You’re impatient and oh-so-curious, but you force yourself to wait for his sake.

It must be a special secret.

The pot on the stove is an heirloom. It’s old, yet reliable and sturdy. Jade’s mother gifted it to him in the wake of your engagement. Sometimes you think he treasures it more than anything. He’s always hovering near it, having forbidden you from lifting the lid, lest you unintentionally tamper with whatever it is he’s cooking. It smells hearty like meat stew most days, and according to Jade the process is long.

You linger near the stove. A tiny taste wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jade cooks things in excess to cure what appears to be an interminable hunger.

But then someone pokes their head inside the shop, calling out a greeting. You move to the front just as Jade returns from the storage room, carrying a crate of vegetables. That taste will have to wait.

Detective Azul Ashengrotto lowers onto a stool at the counter and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“If it isn’t Azul! What brings you here? Tired of the big city?”

Weary hues flick over your face. He manages a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, (Name). You’re still as energetic as ever.”

“You know it. Every day’s sunny over here.” You rest your elbows on the counter and hum. “Although it’s been awfully slow today.”

“I envy you.” He lifts his hat off of his head to card a hand through tousled hair. Now that you’re looking at him, he seems to have lost some weight. His face is thinner. His eye sockets appear hollow, heavy with shadows. “They’re running me ragged over there. Too many cases. Not enough answers.”

“You ought to take better care of your health.”

“I am—will. I plan to as soon as I wrap up this current case.”

“What’s it about? If you can tell me, that is.”

“A young man went missing near the port. They think he might’ve fallen in and drowned. His wallet was brought up from the seabed, but they haven’t recovered his body yet.”

“How unfortunate… I’m sure his family’s distraught.”

Azul drags a hand down his face and sighs again. “A mess.”

“My, my. It’s been some time since I’ve heard that familiar sigh.”

Lowering his arm, Azul fixes him with a sardonic grin. “How kind of you to join us. I was starting to wonder where you were hiding.”

Jade hums and adjusts his bandana. “Forever confined to the kitchen. My wife is eating for two now.”

A minute ticks by before the realization flashes on Azul’s face. He looks between the both of you, stunned.

“Oh, you’ve—wow. I wasn’t expecting… Ahem. Congratulations.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s talking about his stomach. I’m not pregnant.”

Azul’s countenance shifts through a catalogue of emotions before landing on a scowl. “To think I actually believed you for a moment. I rescind my congratulations.”

“My poor hara, endlessly empty without your sweet sentiments to fill it.”

“And my hara is telling me that you’re going to starve our guest if you keep being silly.” Clicking your tongue at him, you turn your much softer stare on Azul. “The usual, right?”

“Oh, thank you, but I ate before I came. I only intended to stop in and say hello since I was in the area. I really should be leaving now that—”

“Nonsense! You’re already here and Jade has nothing better to do. You should go back on a full stomach.”

“Indeed. A delicious bowl of tonkotsu ramen has your name on it,” Jade adds from his place in the kitchen. “And I do so love busying these idle hands of mine. Should they remain idle, I fear the devil may just find work for them…”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You look so withered, Zuzu. You’ll feel better after a hot meal. I promise!”

The platonic affection twined through the nickname catches him by surprise. Huffing, his cheeks colored pink, he stuffs his hat on his head to veil the darkening blush. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. “I’ll get started on tea.”

You weren’t going to give him much of a choice. Azul probably knows this by now, well-acquainted with your proclivity to play caretaker.

“This winter is particularly brutal,” he comments after you’ve fetched him a cup. It’s more of a change in subject than an observation. He shudders and burrows further into the warmth provided by his coat. “The worst time to die.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Winter is full of mistakes. Drunken mishaps at night, in which the victim slips on ice and falls into the sea… Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must be—to not know where your loved one has disappeared to, only to find them just as the winter frost melts away to usher in spring.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” You set the kettle down, and Azul watches steamy tendrils curl up towards the ceiling. “Does it ever scare you—the things you find?”

“I’ve seen so much it’s difficult to know what real fear even is.”

“Ah.” You glance over your shoulder at Jade as he opens the lid on the pot of stew. Your eyes drift over towards Azul once more. “You work hard. You deserve a break after your next case.”

“I could sleep forever when that day comes.”

“Retirement isn’t too far, is it, Ojiisan?”

Azul chokes around his breath. “Do I really look so old? Oh, my heart… If these sleepless nights don’t kill me, that assumption certainly will.”

You giggle. “Sorry, sorry. I meant to say you look as spry as ever.”

“You’re too happy to hammer nails into my coffin.”

“I do it with love. It’s our secret ingredient, you know!”

“So I’ve heard.”

The rest of your conversation stalls out. You wipe the counter with a fresh rag in hopes of giving yourself something to do while Azul reads through the newspaper and sips at his tea. You watch him in your peripheral vision. Is he taking care of himself? It doesn’t look like it, but you’ve known Azul long enough to be familiar with his level of responsible efficiency. Maybe this particular case has him in the trenches.

Just how hard are they working him over there?

As his friend you worry. In fact, you worry yourself sick. Every time he visits he’s in poor shape. Though he masks it with confidence, you can see the toll life is taking on him.

“Have you ever wanted to get married, Azul?”

“If I find the right person, sure.”

“But?”

“But, seeing as that has yet to happen, I have no interest in pursuing something that might waste my time and money. Emotions are exhausting, even more so when invested in something like romance. It’s better to put them towards something that will yield solid results. Like work, for example.”

“That outlook is so frigid! Don’t you wanna fall in love?”

“Love isn’t going to crack these cases,” he grumbles at the paper.

Jade appears at the little window cut into the wall. “Someone sounds like a love killer.”

“I’m only being realistic.” Azul scoffs. “Besides, you have no right to speak as a married man.”

“Envy is a wicked vice. I’ll gladly help you overcome it.”

You take the bowl of tonkotsu ramen from Jade and set it in front of Azul. “Okay, enough of that. Let him enjoy his meal in peace.”

“But I haven’t yet had my fill of fun.”

You reach through the horizontal window to gently tug on Jade’s ear. He rumbles with laughter. “Don’t bully the guests.”

“Why, I would never, my dearest.”

Azul watches this back-and-forth with a forlorn longing in his pale blues. Wordlessly, he sinks his soup spoon into the broth and lifts the noodles between his chopsticks. He eats with such zest it makes you wonder if this is his first meal of the day. Sensing your stare, he attempts to pace himself.

You smile sadly. He looks like he needs this.

“As always, it’s delicious,” he says once he’s made a sizable dent in the portion.

Jade basks in the praise. “I’m pleased you enjoy it.”

“But… Well.” The ghost of a frown settles on his weathered features. “The broth tastes different. You must’ve used a new seasoning. Or perhaps this is an expensive cut of pork? Whatever it is, it’s different. Not bad, mind you. I’m sure if it were anyone else it would’ve been difficult to catch.”

“Is this the impressive power of Detective Ashengrotto’s taste buds at work?” you joke, to which Azul flashes you a proud grin that’s more teeth than lip.

“Well, I have been using ingredients with better qualities as of late… I’m not very fond of serving cheap products to honored guests.”

“Isn’t my Jade so considerate? He’s too cute.” You stand up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “He even grows some of the vegetables himself. Green onions and mushrooms and the like.”

“Ah, of course. How could I forget that dubious green thumb of yours?” Azul muses, recalling the time in which Jade served him a new dish in exchange for valid critique. He had conveniently neglected to inform Azul that it contained mushrooms, something he has eaten plenty of in the time that he’s known you and Jade. So many that all varieties have been spoiled for him. “In any case, what’s the secret ingredient? Imported pork? Some sort of flavor that’s seeped in when left to simmer? No, not that… It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t place it!”

Jade chuckles. “There is no secret. It’s just love.”

Azul pokes around the bowl with his chopsticks, his eyes narrowed with an intense scrutiny. “I can recognize every other flavor. The meat, the green onions, the egg, the noodles… And I can parse the broth well enough. There’s just something else—a hint of something I’ve never tasted before. This profile is missing from my gastronomic lexicon.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “Well, it’s the same broth, isn’t it?”

The both of you turn to Jade for his input. He nods. “My recipe and method haven’t changed.”

“So it’s still the same as before?” Azul’s nose wrinkles. “Strange. I was certain there was a taste of something more…”

Before he can dwell on it any longer, the radio at his hip crackles to life: “Sir, you’re needed at the port. We’ve got something you should see. Over.”

Azul detaches it from his belt and lifts it to his mouth. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch anything if you can help it. Out.” Releasing the button, he deflates briefly and then addresses you and Jade next. “It was wonderful seeing you again, but I’m afraid I must cut my visit short.”

“Then we won’t keep you.”

He moves to pull money from his wallet, but you stop him.

“On the house. You deserve it.”

Despite your generous offer, he still places the exact amount on the counter. “You won’t make profit if you’re giving food away for free.”

“Wha—but you’re a friend!”

“That makes it even worse. It’s not very fair to favor me to this extent.”

“Azuuul, don’t be so stubborn! You did this last time, too.”

“I surmise it will be much the same next time he graces us with his presence,” Jade says, eyeing you sympathetically.

“Ugh. Really… If you won’t let us treat you, at least promise you’ll take better care of yourself. No more skipping meals. Get a full eight hours. Prioritize yourself, too, okay?”

Azul starts for the door, so you miss the way he flusters up to his ears. They’re all very valid concerns, of course, but then he’s never been able to swallow the embarrassment that accompanies being unduly fussed over.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says instead and steps outside into the snowy afternoon.

You fold your arms over your chest and huff noisily. “What are we going to do with him? He’s in bad health and he still insists on being difficult. Must he faint before he realizes it?”

Jade emerges from the kitchen, sliding easily behind the counter where you stand. An amused glint shimmers in two-toned eyes. “I suppose we can only hope he’ll fix his bad habits sooner rather than later.”

“If only there were two of me… That way one could tend to the shop alongside you and the other could help him with his work.”

Jade embraces you firmly. With a giggle, you crane your neck to look at him.

“Two is much too troublesome.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have you all to myself.” His lips curve into a practiced pout. “What if (Name) Number Two finds Detective Ashengrotto more desirable than her own husband?”

You reach up to pinch his cheek in light scolding. “You know that would never happen.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I would never. If I did, that wouldn’t be the real me. I love you too much.” You twirl out of his arms to collect the dirty dishes. “Hey, since he’s no longer here, what was really in Azul’s ramen?”

“I haven’t the faintest inkling, my dear. I used the same ingredients I always do. Perhaps he was tasting something that wasn’t actually there?”

“Maybe… He looked pretty tired, Jade.” You peer at your reflection in the broth. “I wonder if he’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure he will.” Jade follows you into the tiny, compact kitchen. “You do know his penchant for smoking has worsened. I fear his sense of taste may be compromised from so many cigarettes. That, and age. Oh, but these are merely my own theories. He might have caught flavors of a love he’s never known before on those ruined taste buds of his.”

“Ah, right. Because everything you make is filled with love.”

“Not everything. There’s still something I’ve yet to fill with my love.”

He presses himself against you, his hands settling on your waist. You roll your eyes at his very obvious flirting.

“I’m assuming that something is actually a someone?”

“Indeed. And she’s standing right in front of me.”

His arms snake around your front so that you’re effectively trapped between him and the countertop. His hands close around your breasts to grope you through your shirt. You shiver against him when his fingers brush against the precise area of where your nipples are. It’s when he pinches both between his thumb and index that you finally shut the faucet off, surrendering to his touch instead of the dishes piled in the basin.

“At least close the front. What if someone walks in?”

“Unlikely,” he murmurs, his lips hot on your neck. His fingers slip under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. “It’s slow today. We can manage.”

You brace yourself at the sink and gasp when he grinds against your ass. “T-Ten minutes.”

“Only ten?”

“Would you prefer five? Your mouth is so smart today.”

“My love, I need only seconds to unravel you. You’re quite easy.”

You bark out a sharp laugh. “I’m not the one with the hard-on, my darling.”

“You’re too alluring, even in uniform. So beautiful, always and forever, my sweet wife.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of dirty dish duty.”

“How cold… You rival the snow outside.”

You shift slightly to face him, offering him an impish grin. “I’d hate for my Jade to freeze. Let’s warm up together, all right?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

And all the while, your voices filling the kitchen in unison, bodies pressed close, the pot continues to simmer on the stove.

ii. and i am the idiot with the painted face. in the corner, taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.

“Can I ask you something, Floyd?”

“What’s up?” he answers around a mouthful of udon. A few strands hang out from between his lips, and he slurps them up in a motion so fluid it leaves you impressed. As for the mess he makes… Not so much.

“What’s the secret thing that’s been passed through your family?”

Floyd blinks at you, lost. “The secret thing?”

“It’s some ingredient or flavor or…whatever that Jade says is a family secret. I have no idea what it is. He won’t tell me no matter how many times I ask.”

“Ohhh, you’re talkin’ about Mama’s pot, right? That thing’s been in our family forever. She gave it to Jade cuz I didn’t want it.” Floyd points with his chopsticks, playfully accusatory. “What? You into cookware now? I can getcha somethin’ if ya want.”

“What’s this about cookware?” Jade asks, poking his head inside. He looks warm and comfortable in his nagagi and haori, a pleasant sight for your eyes, but the broom clutched in his hands tells a threatening tale.

Ignoring the fact that he so clearly eavesdropped, you wave him forwards so that you can straighten his scarf. Jade props the broom against the doorway before striding closer. He leans into your touch with a smug smile, which is shamelessly directed at his brother.

“Oh, you’re freezing! Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll catch your death if you spend any longer sweeping out there.”

“Thank you, my dear. I fear the chill is rather paralyzing…”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “He’s fine. Nothin’ he can’t handle.”

“I might just die.”

His dramatics don’t faze Floyd, but they do draw a chuckle from you. “We can’t have that.” You duck into the kitchen and return minutes later with a warm cup of chai. “Floyd was just telling me about your mother’s pot.”

“Was he now?”

“Only cuz Shrimpy asked.”

Jade blows at the steamy beverage to cool it before bringing it to his lips for a sampling. He hums his approval. “It’s quite special.”

Floyd slumps against the counter. “Whatever. It’s boring!”

“I suppose there isn’t much to discuss regarding an old pot.”

“Nothing we haven’t already mentioned.”

“Speaking of that… You thinkin’ about closin’ up the shop for the holidays? Pops’s been on my ass. He and Mama want you to visit.”

Jade gazes at you, but you’re already looking at him. “Should we?” you ask. “I’m not opposed. I just know you like running things here.”

“Not like you’re gonna get crazy business on Christmas.”

“No, but there are a fair amount of regulars who might stop by.”

“We should visit your parents, Jade. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, listen to Shrimpy. Mama’s been missin’ ya.” Floyd shovels more noodles in his mouth. “And afterwards we can all do somethin’ fun on New Year’s Eve.”

“That sounds great! Let’s do it!”

“S’no fun spendin’ the holidays workin’ yourself into the ground.”

“Exactly. Your brother makes a good point. What do you say, Jade? We’ll make the trip to see your parents and then come back in time for New Year’s Eve.”

Jade smiles, approving of the idea. “In that case, I should call Mother so she knows when to expect us.” Taking a final sip from his tea, he rises from his seat and disappears into the kitchen. Seconds later, you hear soft footfalls on the floor above.

“You really don’t know?”

Floyd shrugs. “No idea. The only thing that kinda fits the whole secret ingredient vibe is Mama’s pot. That’s been passed through the family. Other than that? I’ve got nothing.”

“Well… Yeah, that’s true. Maybe it really is nothing.”

Floyd laughs. “This sure means a lot to ya.”

“Of course it does! We’ve been married for two decades and I still don’t know what this ‘family secret’ is. Decades, Floyd! Surely he would’ve told me by now.”

“Is it really that important?”

“It is to me.” You gaze sidelong at the broom and inhale a steadying breath. “It feels like I’m not a part of the family if he won’t tell me something as simple as this. You’d think twenty years qualifies you as—”

“Hey, you’re always gonna be family to me.” Floyd’s hand reaches to cover yours. He hesitates and instead grabs another napkin. “Jade’s just bein’ a hard-ass. Gets it from our old man.”

“Do you think this ‘family secret’ is real?”

“Who knows? I’m sure he’ll fess up once he gets tired of playing this game.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my Jade. He’s really too much sometimes.” You shake your head and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, though. That part about me being family. It… It means a lot.”

“It’s the truth.” Floyd sets his chopsticks and chirirenge down, lifting the bowl to drink what’s left of the broth. He whistles, supremely satisfied, and slouches on the stool. “You ever need anything—doesn’t matter what it is or how much trouble you think it might be—just gimme a call. I’ll be there to help.”

“Thanks. A-Again. Truly.”

Floyd flashes you a toothy smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You collect his bowl, intending to bring it to the sink, but Floyd’s next words stop you in your tracks.

“Hey, Jade’s got that pot on, yeah?”

“The pot? Oh, yes, the pot! What about it?”

“Has it been stirred lately? You gotta do that once in a while, right?”

Your nerves, which had previously been pulled taut, smooth out. He’s referring to cooking. Nothing else. Just cooking.

“I’ll do that. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Mhm! Smells yummy, by the way.”

“Doesn’t it? Jade’s food is amazing.”

“Mine’s pretty killer, too. You gotta come over and try some.”

“If you’re cooking for me, you’ll have to cook for Jade as well.” You giggle to yourself as you cross into the kitchen, only for the laughter to stick in your throat.

Jade stands at the stove. He lowers the lid onto the pot and sets the wooden spoon aside. He was so quiet you hardly noticed him. How long has he been there? When did he return from upstairs?

“Oh, good timing! Floyd and I were just saying the pot needed to be stirred.”

Jade smiles and takes Floyd’s empty bowl from you. “Did we all have a collective thought just now?”

“Ooh, like telepathy?”

“Wouldn’t that be shocking? Three-way telepathy.”

You watch Jade set the bowl beside the others in need of washing. “That would be so noisy! Three times as many thoughts… I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think.”

“It’d be like watchin’ a show about the two of you,” Floyd pipes up from the front.

“Thankfully, that will never happen.” Jade guides you back out. You peer over your shoulder at the pot. “What a relief our minds aren’t connected. I don’t think I’d enjoy a stray listening in on our private affairs.”

You slap his arm gently. “Floyd’s not a stray!”

“Might as well be since it feels like he’s kickin’ me to the curb. So mean.”

“Not at all. I’m just making a distinction clear.” Jade’s smile is razored, his words catty. “You’re always welcome to visit so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hands off the Shrimpy. I gotcha.” Floyd pops up from his seat and stretches. It seems as if all of Jade’s remarks, each born from petty possessiveness, roll off his shoulders. “I’m not gonna steal her from you if that’s what’s got you so worked up.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Floyd’s once easygoing expression sours. “You’re beggin’ for cement shoes, ain’tcha?”

Jade feigns offense, placing his hands over your ears even though it’s a pointless gesture. “For my own blood to threaten me in front of my sweet pearl… It brings tears to my eyes.”

“All right, all right! I’m goin.’ Geez.” Floyd struts out the door, not wanting to be manually shooed out by Jade and his beloved broom. “And don’t forget about New Year’s Eve!”

You wave farewell until he’s vanished out of sight. Only then do you turn to address your husband. “You ought to be nicer to him. He’s your brother.”

“I was. Very nice, in fact.”

“Really? How?”

“I didn’t charge him for the meal.”

iii. me and my husband, we’re doing better. it’s always been just him and me together. so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow. and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together. me and my husband, we’re sticking together.

Everyone thought the odds were significantly slimmer than that of younger women—impossible by your standards—but somehow you’re pregnant at forty-four. You suspected it when you missed your period and then, just days prior, woke up with a terrible bout of morning sickness.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at the positive test like it’s a relic from Atlantis, you pinch yourself. Hard. It stings, and with this your disbelief mellows into something astonished.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

And this time you’re ready for a family. You’re ready to raise a child. Somewhat. Amidst every positive emotion there's anxiety and fear, and they reign so tyrannical that you almost forget you’re meant to be excited. Tamping down insecurity, you turn the test over in your hands.

I’ve got to tell Jade.

But before that you think back on the timeline in an effort to pinpoint the fateful day. After mapping it out for a brief while, you arrive at what’s possibly the least romantic way to conceive a child. Going at it raw and reckless in the kitchen, bent over a sink filled with dirty dishes and pressed against the wall… At least it was in a place both of you treasure.

Not the worst place, you think. I guess it doesn’t have to be a typical rose-petals-on-the-floor situation.

You’re practically vibrating out of your skin when you tiptoe out of the bathroom. Jade’s already downstairs. You can hear him humming as he works to open the shop. Hastily, you change into your work clothes and stuff the test in your pocket.

Jade’s notorious for his surprises, but it’s never been easy to return the favor. You mull over this facet of his character as you skip down the stairs. How can you shock him with this good news when he makes it so difficult? It’s as if he’s always two steps ahead, expecting the unexpected before it can even happen.

Jade brightens when you walk into the kitchen. He meets you halfway, lifting your hand to his lips. “Good morning. How did you sleep, my pearl?”

You squeeze his hand. “Like the dead.”

He chuckles. “I’m pleased it was so restful.”

You glance at the pot then and an idea sprouts. “Is there anything else that needs to get done? Is the front opened?”

“Just about. I need to prep a few more things here and then—”

“I can do it! It’s just stocking up on what’s low, right? That’s not very hard.”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” You claim the spot he had once been standing in. He was in the process of filling a container with chopped green onions before you came down. “Go on and open the front. I’ve got things handled here.”

“I do so adore you.”

“I adore you more.”

“I adore you most.” He beams and stalks off through the doorway.

Now left to your own devices, you move to the sink and turn on the water to wash your hands. If all goes according to plan, you’ll open the lid, pretend something’s wrong with its contents, and when Jade comes over to investigate you’ll act as if you’ve pulled the positive test from the pot. It’s a harmless surprise. You’re sure he won’t be expecting it, especially since he’s the one who does all of the cooking.

After confirming Jade’s still busy with the front, you creep over to the stove. That infamous pot awaits. You slide your hand into an oven mitt and grab hold of the lid, lifting it slowly. You’re immediately hit with the delicious scent of bone broth, so fragrant it almost has you salivating.

Focus! I can eat after the big reveal.

You open your mouth to call Jade over and then pause.

Has he stirred it yet? It looks a little… No, it’s definitely murky. Is bone broth supposed to be this dark? Maybe I just need to stir it.

You lower the wooden spoon into the broth and, scraping along the sides and bottom, mix expertly. The bones knock into each other from the disturbance, and you inhale deeply. It reminds you of the tonkotsu ramen Azul fancies so much. You could go for a bowl right now.

You’re about to take the spoon out and cover the pot when something floats to the surface. Without meaning to, you recall Azul’s words from last month: Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. Curiously, you scoop the object up onto the spoon. Broth spills over into the pot and then you see it.

A finger.

A human finger.

What the fuck is a finger doing in Jade’s pot?

The nail has been plucked off and the skin is sagging away, turned to pliable mush from sitting in the pot for so long, but it is undoubtedly a finger.

A very real, very human finger.

Bile slithers up your throat with thick, acidic fingers.

Fingers.

There’s another one and then another. Three fingers. You poke around in the broth, dreading what else you might see. You don’t want to find a full set of ten. Anything but that. You count five and that’s all you can stomach before you’re shakily covering the pot with the lid. You set the spoon and oven mitt down next, your mind reeling.

You want to vomit.

You’re about to vomit.

You’re going to—

“(Name)?”

You whirl to look at him. Your husband. He stands in the doorway, a dark look on his face. You can’t describe the emotion, or lack thereof. It’s more of a shadow. An oppressive shadow. An intimidating shadow. A shadow that seems to say: You’ve seen too much.

“J-Jade!” How long has he been standing there? How much does he know? “Sorry. I… I felt sick just now. I think I should…rest a bit more.”

The gloom fades away into perfect placidity. “My, my. That’s not good.” He takes a step towards you and pauses when you jerk away. “Is everything all right?”

“Y-Yes, of course! I’m just…not feeling it today…or something.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped.” His eyes slide towards the stovetop. “I do so dislike getting into disagreements with you. So to avoid that I’ll ask once and only once. What did you see in the pot?”

Your spine stiffens, straight and still as a board, and you hang your head guiltily. “I… I’m sorry. I saw… W-Well, I don’t want to believe it. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding or a mistake of some kind. It’s just that—um… I… I saw…”

Fingers. Human fingers!

“I saw what I think is y-your secret ingredient. The thing—” your voice cracks, and you swallow thickly to push rising bile back— “Azul tasted that day…” “And that secret ingredient is…”

Tears brim and spill over in silent, horror-struck waterfalls. You risk a glance at your husband, and a wobbly smile pulls your lips apart.

“Love.”

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade #yandere jade x reader

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alt-vera · 1 year

Note

I NEED MORE JOEL FICS PLSSS

— neon moon ⁀➷

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joel miller see’s a face he hasn’t seen in years. one he thought he’d never see again.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.9k | ❛ neon moon - brooks & dunn ❜

warnings: drinking. praise. oral (f!recieving). soft!joel miller. dom undertones. unprotected piv sex. age gap. mdni.

❝ i think of two young lovers, a-running wild and free, i close my eyes and sometimes see you in the shadows of this smoke filled room ❞

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JOEL HAD THOUGHT IT WAS JUST HIS IMAGINATION AT FIRST.

　It’d happened before. He’d a seen a girl with curly brown hair, and thought it was Sarah, but it was just his cruel imagination playing sickening tricks on him. This, though, this was no trick of the mind.

　There you were, sitting on a rugged barstool in the bar of Jackson. You were the last person Joel expected to see when he’d come to get a drink after a long day of labouring Jackson’s newest endeavours, but there you were. In the flesh and not even ten feet away from him.

　He cautiously approached you, as if in disbelief. You looked so much different from when Joel had knew you, just a young girl barely out of high school, a babysitter for his daughter, before the world was engulfed in flames.

　You sensed a strangely familiar presence burning holes into your back, and your head turned slowly to meet Joel’s gaze, your mouth falling agape before it inched into a smile.

　“Wow,” You breathed out, “Tommy wasn’t kidding. It really is you.”

　Your name left Joel’s lips in a tone of wariness, as if you were going to disappear within the smoke that surrounded the two of you, a grim phantom of his past receding into thin air. But you didn’t. You stayed in your seat, not moving a muscle as you stared at him, elation clouding your tired eyes.

　“What’re you doin’ here?” He asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but years of fighting for his life had hardened him into a shell of the man you knew. Still, your smile didn’t falter.

　“Tommy found me on patrol this morning, and recognized me. I’d been wandering for a few months, and they offered me a house and a teaching position once the schoolroom’s are built.”

　A teacher. That’s what you were going to go to college for before hell on earth struck. Joel had thought everyone’s dreams would’ve been broken after all these years, but here you were in front of him, achieving yours after an eternity of waiting.

　“He said that’s what you were helping to build, actually,” You continued, and your head tilted with a teasing air. “Guess even in an apocalypse, you can’t escape the contracting business, huh?”

　Joel couldn’t help himself as his lips upturned, and a faint chuckle grumbled within him. It felt so humane to be with someone he knew again, someone who knew the real him before the world calloused his personality.

　He took a seat beside you, a bottle of beer sliding in front of him. He took note of you, of how your body shifted more toward him, of how your fingers tapped softly on the hardwood bar top to the rhythm of the music spilling out of the jukebox in the corner.

　As the two of you talked, the sky grew darker and the moon reared it’s head through the windows of the bar. You tiptoed around the subject of Sarah, and Joel assumed that Tommy informed you of her demise. You were careful not to say her name as the two of you discussed the past.

　“I can’t believe you’re here,” Joel admitted after a few beers, the booze burning away his carefully built walls like fire licking a wooden fence.

　“Y’know, I looked for you before we left Texas,” He continued, voice growing sullen and quiet. You watched as his eyes sank into his drink, staring as if his eyes could melt the bottle surrounding his beer. “Couldn’t find ya.”

　“I got out of dodge as soon as the police started showing up on every corner of campus,” You replied softly, resting a reassuring hand on Joel’s forearm. You felt the muscle tense under your touch. “I didn’t know you’d come looking for me.”

　“Well, you were like family,” Joel said, and you swore you heard him mutter under his breath, “Probably still could be.”

　“Well i’m here now,” You said light-heartedly, attempting to steer the conversation away from such sad topics. The past was the past, and neither of you could change that.

　The more the two of you drank, the more it wore you down, and it began to feel like nothing had changed. As if you were still his daughters babysitter who left a plate of dinner for him stashed in the fridge every night, and he was the dad who’d change your oil and fix your jewellery box when the hinges rusted.

　“Y’know, i used to have such a crush on you,” You admitted with a drunken laugh, and you watched Joel’s eyes widen in skepticism.

　“I don’t know how,” Joel chuckled, “Every time you saw me i was sweaty and covered in sawdust. Probably stunk.”

　“Well, I like a working man,” You commented, taking another swig of your beer, and Joel noticed how you words were still in present tense. It wasn’t liked, it was like.

　Your eyes glanced to the clock on the wall, and you sighed, downing the rest of your nearly empty bottle. “I better get going,” You rose from your seat, and Joel mirrored your actions. “Early start tomorrow. Gotta start preparing lessons and a curriculum for the rascals.”

　“I’ll walk you home,” Joel offered, and you accepted his proposal with a gracious smile.

　It was summertime, and Joel was thankful for the cool night breeze to save from the heat of the day. It raised pleasant goosebumps on his skin, listening to the bugs rustling and singing in the grass.

　Joel couldn’t help how his eyes tracked you, the moon illuminating you in a spotlight, your body dancing through the beams as you walked towards the small house Tommy and Maria had put you up in.

　You stopped on your porch, and Joel stood close to you. Dangerous close. You breathed him in, and tipsy words left your lips before you could register what the hell you were saying.

　“You still smell the same,” You breathed, dulcet tone coating your words, “Sweat, and wood, and beer. That’s what i liked most about you.”

　“Liked?” Joel questioned, taking an indulgent step towards you. “By the way you were talkin’ earlier, it seems like you still have a thing for me.”

　“Maybe i do,” You whispered, and Joel’s calloused fingers came to dance along your jaw, tucking under your chin to gently lift your face up to look at him. Your face was ruddy with vulnerability and tipple.

　His lips met yours, coaxing and honeyed with lust. He pressed you up against the wall of your house, the solidness behind you pushing you closer to him until your chests were touching. His hands found your waist, one creeping down to cradle your ass through your jeans. You melted into him.

　No one was out this late, but still, you were new to town and didn’t want to chance earning a bad rep before you could even introduce yourself. “Inside,” You breathed, and your voice was euphonious to Joel’s ears.

　He craved this, he craved you, and the two of you barely made it up the stairs and into your bedroom before Joel was on top of you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans as he slid them down your legs.

　Positioned between your spread legs, his tongue licked a stripe through your underwear. You moaned, fingers weaving through his silvery hair as he chucked the barrier off and down your legs, licking again as his nose tickled your clit. He flexed his tongue, allowing it to enter you before curling it and allowing it to drag out of you and up to lap at your clit.

　“So sweet, baby,” He cooed, “Just like i knew you’d be.”

　He continued to fuck you with his tongue until you bucked against his face, stubble scratching the plushness of your thighs as you rode your high out against him.

　He chuckled as your hands left his hair to cover your face in embarrassment at your actions. He carefully peeled your fingers away from your face, smiling. “C’mon baby,” He flattered, “Let me see that pretty face. I haven’t seen it in s’long.”

　He rose from between your legs and crawled over you to straddle you, pressing velvety kisses to your cheek, peppering down your neck until they reached the hem of your tee. He peeled it off of you, unclipping your bra as well, kisses turning into soft licks and bites as he took one of your buds in his mouth.

　You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh as he continued his actions

　“Joel,” You mumbled, fingers tracing the bottom of his shirt. “Please, i need you.”

　Those simple yet enticing words were enough to have Joel kicking it into high gear, sloppily chucking his clothes onto your bedroom floor. He pumped his cock in his large hand, precum spilling into his palm as his sonorous voice spoke, “Are you ready, darlin’?”

　You nodded as his tip slipped between your folds, collecting the slick Joel had left there earlier. He tutted, “Words, baby. Use your words.”

　“I’m ready,” You replied wantonly, words being broken by strained breaths as he pushed himself inside you. Even with the prep, the stretch still caused an ache deep within your core as his head kissed your cervix, but you fought the pain and focused on the pleasure as he began slow thrusts up into you, hips meeting your own.

　A lewd moan left your mouth as Joel began to pick up speed, fingers coming to deftly circle your clit to guide you through your euphoria.

　“Wanted this for years,” Joel groaned, words spilling from his lips uncontrollably, “Knew it was wrong to want such a pretty, young thing, but you were so damn cute in your cutoffs, talkin’ about changing kids lives and all that.”

　His accent became thicker the more he fucked you and the closer he came to cumming.

　“Knew you’d be such a good girl,” He continued, and another pleasured moan graced his ears, “Just like ya are now. Takin’ me so well like this, lettin’ me fuck you after not seein’ me for so long.”

　His praises were the straw that broke the camels back as you clenched around him, swallowing him whole as you came.

　“Good,” He breathed out, fucking you into overstimulation, “So fuckin’ tight for me, baby.”

　You met his thrusts with shaking legs, and you felt his seed spill inside you, coating you and filling you, creating a creamy ring around Joel’s base as he fucked you until he physically couldn’t.

　With a shaky breath he pulled out of you, sweat beading along his hairline and sheerness covering both of your bodies. He rose from your bed, pulling on his boxers before disappearing into your house, coming back seconds later with a wet washcloth.

　He gently wiped the mess between your legs, trying not to laugh when you twitched from the friction against your overworked clit. He put the cloth on your bedside table, handing you your tee and watching you modestly pull it over your naked form.

　He laid beside you after that, pulling you into his arms and tenderly stroking your hair, pressing kisses to your temple.

　The neon moon peeked at the two of you through your bedroom windows, coating you both in it’s glistening beams as you stayed like that, holding each other and catching your breaths, unsure of what tribulations the next day would bring as the moon would eventually dance away.

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a-girl-withouta-face · 1 year

Text

Helluva Boss Chaz SFW/NSFW Headcanons

(AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OMG I JUST REALIZED IM THE FIRST PERSON ON TUMBLR TO WRITE ABOUT CHAZ)

SFW

He’s very good at flirting , he enjoys flirting with you a lot by calling you lots of pet names like “babe” , “baby” , “hot stuff”,“sweet heart” , “beautiful and stuff like “Pretty girl” just anything flirty in general.

He’s pretty tall so most likely you would be definitely shorter then he is so he would tease you for how small you are compared to he is and he would tease you on how you have to get on the tip of your toes to give him a kiss.

Whenever he kisses you , he likes to lean down most of the time so you can reach him but hes gunna bully you first about how you can’t reach him , sometimes he just picks you up for a kiss.

When he kisses you its not one kiss he does it everywhere on your face , your cheeks , lips , nose, forehead and neck(Followed with a dirty smirk) he loves it.

Loves PDA , likes to show you off to everyone around him talking about how hot and amazing you are , it annoys everyone but he doesn’t really give a fuck.

Would 100% love it if you kiss him all over his face but with lip stick on so he can have a bunch of red kiss marks on his cheeks and forehead , he would never take it off cause he wants everyone to know how he’s with the most “Beautiful girl/boy” in the world or atleast thats what he would say.

He likes to wrap his tail around you sometimes.

He gets jealous pretty easily but he doesn’t admit it or anything.

Hugs and likes lot of attention , he loves when you praise him , make sure you give him a bunch of your attention cause he always say stuff like “Aw man” if your busy with something and brushes it off with a smile and a laugh but he low key just really likes you and misses you easily.

Always in the mood to fuck , no matter where it is , what time or anything he will fuck you if you want him to.

He breaks or sneaks into your house sometimes rather you know or don’t know so you guys can fuc- , I mean hang out and cuddle , well both. He’s either gunna break the window open or just find some other way to let himself in , kind of like a surprise date.

Chaz isn’t very smart , like he can’t spell anything to save his life and he hates reading and so on , so sometimes you need to help him spell stuff , it embarasses him a bit

Kiss his nose , like surprise kiss him on the nose of forehead , hes going to blush like crazy and hes just gunna get so happy and all jumpy.

100% pushed you up against the wall or just tried to seduce you to make you nervous and laughs about it after

“Heyyy beautiful , ya miss me?”He smiles with a shit eatting grin on his face.

“Hah yea right...whatever you say you perv.”I chuckle , drinking soda on the chair.

“Oh...C’mon I know you love it”

“Oh don’t get so cocky.”I shake my head with a smile , I turn to him and then my smile drops as soon as I realized he isn’t wearing anything but his briefs. My face turns red from embarrassment and I look away averting my eyes.

“I.....uhm....”I say , he leans in closer , his mischevious smiling reaching ear to ear as he leaned closer against me , he grabs me by the shoulders making me jump a little in shock then he turns me towards him with my hands on my face...

“Oh Whats wrong baby?”He chuckles at his own words , speaking raspy , his voice sounding quite seductive towards you as your eyes scanned his chest still red. What a flirt , he knows what hes doing.

“Its nothing...”I laugh awkwardly blinking for a second.

“Y’know , if you think I’m hot you can just say so~!”

“O-Oh shut up!!!”

NSFW

Praise him , his dick is where most of his ego comes from so his body count is pretty high so he knows your sweet spots better then you do

Very open sexually , he likes most kinks , he’s willing to put little bite marks on your collar bone , shoulder , waist , thighs , wherever whenever.

He likes putting marks on you.

Hes a perverted bastard so if you ever tell him to slow down hes going to grab your hips and push you down, fucking you on his cock even harder

Sends you nudes while your working or doing random things half the time , likes to remind you every day how long his dick is and how much he wants to fuck every time hes horny.

Again a pervert , he would slap your ass sometimes , stare at your cleavage your body distracts him sometimes.

He can’t take his hands off of you , he’s so horny that he worships every part of your body , likes to tease you and flirt with you while you both fuck and its annoying sometimes so you would sit on his face and have him eat you out , whenever he does that you don’t have to even put your hands in his hair cause he’s already grabbing your thighs tight as hell pulling your thighs closer to him so he can lick all your juices.

He likes to make out , so if you ever come inside of his mouth he’ll shove his tongue inside of your mouth so you both get to french kiss and share your juices

If your inside your parents house he would fuck you inside of your closet and cover your mouth so you dont make much noise , making you bounce up and down , if you make too much noise he would start shoving his tongue inside of your mouth while you both make out and fuck at the same time.

King of foreplay

He likes sextoys , if your a women he’d gladly let you fuck him , he’s mostly a top but he doesn’t mind subbing once in a while.

If you fuck him with a strap on with a dick as long as his or even longer he will be moaning like a slut , he comes so fucking much so put a vibrating cock ring and overstimulate him till hes begging for mercy , hes a cocky bastard so sometimes he says stuff like “Aww cat got your tongue” or something cheeky.

If your a virgin , he tries to be gentle but its hard because of the length of his cock so make sure you tell him if hes hurting you.

Likes blind folds and so on.

Wear something tight or very short , its going to get him in the mood , he cant take his eyes off you already so if you walk around showing a bunch of skin hes going to see it as a sign that you want him to fuck you and hes going to be all over you.

He’s sorta loud when having sex makes noise, makes a bunch of noise but hes not all that sensitive though hes just in the middle.

Likes places kisses all over your thighs and tits

Sometimes he leaves hickeys on your neck or somewhere a bit more noticeable so he can tease you after and show everybody how you belong to only him.

When hes lonely he has a stash of your panties that he steals from your drawings that he does stuff with when your not there.

He goes into his photos and strokes his cock while looking at pictures of you , he jerks off to you way more then you think he does.

he likes to tell you all of the dirty things he wants to do to you.

Sometimes he likes telling about his dirty thoughts like pinning you over a table and fucking you , fingering you in public while nobody knows , fucking you in a dressing room and even fucking in an alley way being exited by the thought of risking someone seeing the both of you.

He likes seeing you struggle sucking his cock , hes very girthy and long so he enjoys seeing you gag and how your desperate eyes are , covered in tears whenever he grabs your hair and pushes you forward to take his entire length especially how he enjoys making you drink every last drop of cum

Jokes a lot and likes teasing you while having sex by making lewd remarks about your body like how your tits go up and down with every thrust , how wet you are and how loudly you moan under him.

Whenever hes in the mood he doesn’t care much wherever you guys are , if hes horny hes gunna tell you with the biggest smile on his face.

#Helluva Boss #helluva boss chaz #helluva boss chaz x reader #chaz thurman #chazwick thurman #helluva boss chazwick thurman #helluva boss chaz thurman #chaz x reader #chazwick x reader #chazwick thurman x reader #chaz thurman x reader #chaz smut #chazwick thurman smut #helluva boss x reader #chazwick thurman fluff #helluva boss chazwick thurman x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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myymi · 3 months

Text

“Look. Yer new here, I get it.” Sails grumbled, his mechanical arm resting on the hedgehog’s chest to force him to keep his distance, “But you need to learn our rules and fast.” He growled, eyes narrowing into a glare.

Sonic tried to keep his body from visibly wilting at the rejection. He wasn't used to being pushed away by his little brother, and it seemed to hurt worse the second time around.

Except they aren't his little brother, are they? Nine and Sails don't know him. They shouldn't trust him. But he needs them to. Sonic needs his brother(s?) to trust him to keep them safe, why won't they let him protect them?

That's his job, isn't it? He has to keep them safe from those who are hunting them or whatever awful thoughts are plaguing them. What good is protecting the world when he can't protect his world?

“Whaddya mean?” He decided to ask, firmly ignoring the way his voice wavered even after the fox in front of him raised a brow at it.

“I mean quit stickin’ yer nose where it don't belong.” Sonic tried to ignore the fact that only one of the pirate's ears folded down as he crossed his arms, shrinking into himself. “My tale ain't your business, so quit poking.”

“I didn't mean to offend you or anything,” Sonic said, raising his paws in surrender. He'd never want to push his brother to talk about something he didn't want to. Why didn't he just drop it? “I was just worried, y’know?”

“Don't worry over strangers, landlubber.” Sails warned, his metal arm retreating from the teens chest as he averted his gaze, “it'll only make things harder for ya.” He mumbled, almost too quiet for the other to hear.

“But you're not a stranger, Sails.” The older argued, watching the fox’s movements, “I know everything about you!”

“No, you don't.” The kit frowned, his fur bristling, “If ye did, ye wouldn't be here askin’ questions about a life that doesn't concern you.” Was the last thing he said before turning away from the hedgehog, quickly making his way to somewhere on the boat that wasn't near him.

Sonic's ears flattened against his head as he watched Sails walk away, his left paw holding his right arm in an absolute death grip. He groaned and ran his paws down his face.

This was his own fault.

He's always been one to preach about boundaries. He remembers he used to have to remind a 4 year old Tails quite often that sometimes people just didn't want to talk about or do certain things and that was okay.

So why didn't he keep his big, stupid mouth shut when he saw Sails start to pull away?

Sure, Sails wasn't technically Tails, but they had the same mannerisms. His tails twirling around themselves to appear as a single appendage, his eyes looking down to stare at his crossed arms, his fur proofing up, and his foot tapping against the ground were all signs that someone was pushing him too far. Sonic knew that, yet he wouldn't stop pushing.

Maybe it was the desperation to understand this two tailed fox. Because he wasn't his fox, but he was so close he might as well be his doppelganger. Yet the teenager didn't actually know him.

But he wanted to. He wanted to show the kit that he was the one the kid should trust. He wanted to prove to Sails that he was a free shoulder to lean on if he needed it.

A big brother who would always have his arms open, waiting to comfort the fox should he need it.

It was a need for the hedgehog. He so desperately needed his little brother to understand he was always here that he forgot that Sails wasn't his brother. Not in those blue eyes, anyway.

To Sails, Sonic was a stranger. He was just some guy they found on an island who begged to be let aboard their ship. They had only met a few hours ago.

He was, understandably, overwhelmed by the hedgehog. It seemed like the stranger knew almost everything about his life, except for one key detail; Sonic didn't exist in it.

And that's exactly what made Sonic keep pushing. He wasn't a part of Sails’ life, but he wanted to be. Because he knows what Tails’ life was like before meeting the hedgehog, and he needed to make sure Sails was safe.

Nine wasn't.

Mangey wasn't.

There had to be at least one variant of his little brother that was okay. The kid's safety couldn't only rely on Sonic, surely there had to be one of them that got off easy.

But he guesses that was just another assumption he was wrong about.

“Landlubber!” Sonic's ears twitched at that, swiveling around until they located the direction the shout came from. He turned around to see Batten flying above him.

“What’d ye say to Sails?” She asked, one hand resting on her hip as the other held the hilt of her sword. The bat nodded her head up towards the crow’s nest.

Squinting, Sonic could see Sails was leaning against the banister, his head hung low.

The hedgehog winced and rubbed the back of his neck, “I kinda pushed him about something I shouldn't have.” He admitted, ears folding down against his head. “Do you know how I can make that up to him?”

Batten’s frown deepened as she glanced up to the fox for a brief moment, “Don't do anything. He'll sort it out on his own.” She advised, lowering herself down to land beside the hedgehog. “And don't bring the topic back up again. Ever.”

“Noted.” Sonic tried to smile, but it was very obviously strained. He sighed and looked away from the fox, not wanting to be caught staring.

He wasn't used to leaving Tails alone. When the fox was upset he would always bring him a gift to make up for whatever it was he did.

But maybe it's time to stop treating these two tailed foxes like they're his little brother. It never seemed to work out in his favor.

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suguru-getos · 4 months

Text

Happy Birthday Keigo! 🎉

-> Hawks x F!Reader

A/N: Mentions of Keigo’s birthday in the Takami household, along with your son. <3 This is just pure, self indulgent fluff tbh. I was gonna write smut that can come later 🤭❤️‍🔥 happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my life - Takami Keigo ^^

As the number two hero of Japan, the most sought out, the most popular & famous. Keigo’s birthday sure isn’t all that sought out. He’s busy with meetings & PR, while you thought you could spend the birthday eve with him. You’re so annoyed but at the same time helpless— what can you do really? It’s not like he is purposely doing this. Purposely being busy… he’s not.

Your eyes dart towards the clock. 12:00 am on the dot. You pout, rummaging through the bedsheets to find your phone. Fine, you can make do with a text message. Calling him while he’s in a meeting gets embarrassing for others moreso than Hawks. You see, he has no regard for other people. He would simper around, call you his baby, say he loves you… while other people would awkwardly try to stomach the #2 hero being whipped. You pout when you open his text tab, typing out a short.

You (12:00 am): Happy birthday daddy! <33

The message isn’t seen yet, and you sulk harder, shoulders drooping as you sigh & lean against the bedsheets. Yep, you could much rather scroll through TikTok instead. At least, the Hawks fandom would be active & would care about his birthday. Something you have in commonality.

Your son was peacefully asleep in his room. He’s turning three soon, and you couldn’t really wait to see him grow. Thoughts of him already idolising Keigo ripple through your mind as you smile faintly. That’s when you’re invited into a lull slumber.

The next morning when you’re awake, you pout instantly. Fucked was your whole plan to spend his birthday eve together. Keigo had officially turned 27 today. A low rumble of his melodious voice echoed through the kitchen, mingled with the clattering of your son’s indulgent ‘helper’ whines as he prepares stuff with Dadda. Your heart warms, and you quickly rush.

“Good morning Kei, morning Ai.” You call him, and your son who’s wings puff up instantly upon seeing his mother. “Mama mornin!” He chirps, and Keigo grins back, “Oh good morning sunshine, you look gorgeous— haven’t told ya that everyday as if~” Keigo scoffed dramatically, leaning in and kissing you softly.

“Happy birthday…” you hum, running your hands through his hair, forgetting everything and why you were a little testy upon him. “Thank you babygirl.” He croons, nuzzling against your neck and giving a chaste kiss.

“M’ sorry I was so carried away by work y’know. Hate to be the hero sometimes.” He winked, ushering you towards your seat in the dining area. “Made yer favorite!” He beams, loitering through the culinary crockery.

“It’s your birthday, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the spoiling!” You audibly whine, making Aideen (your son), giggle up. “Mama spoilin’!!” He repeated innocently, and you nodded with a grin. “Yes baby, today’s Dadda’s birthday.” You hum, kissing his cheek. “C’mon, wish him a happy birthday.”

Your son glanced up at Keigo, who’s eyes softened instantly at the two individuals he would cut his heart up for. Ai tried, fumbling a soft, “Appy bufday Dadda” but the cheerfulness of the wish has Keigo’s eyes waver & gloss up. You pat Ai on the head, grinning. “Oh good boy, that was such a good birthday wish!”

The thing is, you and Keigo didn’t have to try the whole ‘gentle parenting’ thing ever. Luckily, you knew exactly what were the good parts you would like to pick up from your parents. Keigo knew exactly what he doesn’t want to be. Parenting came naturally. Though, there were times you found Hawks rather confused… but you were always there with him, holding a hand.

“Ai’s gonna start Nursery soon.” You hum, while cutting up the fruits and dipping them in maple syrup. “Yeah, I know Sweetie.” Keigo smiled, looking at you and scanning your face for any emotion remotely close to worry. “You know he’s going to do well, right?” He asks, hand reflectively brushing against yours.

“Yeah, but he’s the son of a very famous Hero.” You looked up, biting your lip a little out of nervousness. You haven’t been a celebrity kid. Hell you don’t even know how it would feel. These past four years with your man has only taught you never to go out without looking your best. You’ve been papped several times after all.

In the begining of the relationship, it was so troublesome and hard for you. Wherever you went with Hawks — the paparazzi followed like a flock. You & Keigo both have been successful in hiding Ai’s face from the media so long. Part of you wants to keep him safe so that no one could ever see what your son looks like, let alone trouble him.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the school would be incredibly secure. I’d ask you to get him homeschooled but then I know we both don’t wanna deprave him off a normal life yeah?” Keigo coos, kissing your forehead. You nod, seemingly half-convinced still.

“Mmm, how about I send a silly little feather along?” You perk up at that idea, that was fantastic!

“That sounds okay. That way you’d know what’s up.” You smiled, observing his golden eyes dilate the moment a smile festered on your face. Gosh he was so visible with all his desperate and unconditional love towards you.

“Atta girl! Keep that smile on for me all day! Today’s my birthday and I get to have whatever I want.” Keigo grinned wide, and you nodded in approval.

“So I was thinkin’ maybe we could go out today… y’know like one of those times when I book a sneazy comfy place where there’s snow & there’s warm fireplace & there’s a lotta~” he leaned in, whispering the next part, “sex.”

You cackled, you knew Ai wouldn’t understand yet, but he’s of that age where he continually repeats words over & over. He repeated ‘Fuck’ over and over once Keigo slipped it out & had you reign hell fire upon the house. That was the first and the last time your husband did that mistake though. Ever so sharp & ever so careful (mostly).

“I’m in, want to spend all my time with you.” You confessed like a blushy highschooler, and Keigo grinned.

“Well a fuckin’ happy birthday to me then!”

“Fuckin’ appy bufday!” Ai repeated.

“Oh- no.” Hawks facepalmed.

#hawks bnha #bnha hawks #hawks imagines #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fluff #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #hawks x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff #mha x reader fluff

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ironvy · 17 days

Text

the beach !

Boothill. not proofread, written prior 2.2. inspiration; "Hunting Knife" by Haruki Murakami. word count; 519.

note. I'd like to say that this is not necessarily an x reader. i merely desired to get this off my mind so, this should not be treated as an actual product ( i want to be free to write for aventurine, I have around 3 ideas. )

‘Boothill.’

The cyborg stirs as you whisper his name into the quietude.

the frail sun concealed with patches of grey clouds hovering. seagulls glide in a delicate pattern against the backdrop of the sky. The water dark in fathoms, it ripples pulverulently against accumulated dark, craggy rocks, lining a hillock. Your white cottage rests atop it, permitting you to overlook the exquisite scenery.

The cottage is of two storeys, with a lucid ocean vision. The front porch adequately wide for your leisure table-chair setting and cream plumeria pots.

The place is silent—omitting the seagulls’ raucous calls— almost too solitary at times. Boothill questions how you manage to live alone in such dull surroundings. Albeit that if you craved company, the town is a hill walk away.

‘do memories still exist when they’re forgotten?’

You blink at him, and he does so, too.

‘gee, sugar! I ain’t a no philosopher, y’know.. been gettin’ the blues?’

You merely chuckle, at his words. ‘no… I have a feeling… that I am losing memories. I don’t know what exactly, however, I can feel I am gradually forgetting some things. I can't quite explain it. Yet, it’s akin to.. memories leaking out of my mind, palpable in the atmosphere, and out of reach..’

‘I assume it’s related to this gun somehow,’ you pull out a gun from your parka, diligently tracing its polished surface before you toss it to him.

Boothill stares at the gun in astonishment, he raises the gun before his eyes, tilts his head slightly and shuts an eye as if aiming. ‘woah, peach. That’s some gun ya got there!’

‘found it abandoned here on the shore. Though I prefer to dispose of it.’

Boothill raises a brow, ‘ya sure?’

You nod.

'Sometimes, I have this vision,' you state. 'There is this gun and bullet within. It deep inside the soft part of my head, where memories lie. It does not hurt— it is merely there. And I am witnessing it as if it occurred to someone else. I want someone to pull it out, but nobody notices it's there. And then everything begins to vanish. I begin to vanish, too. Only, the gun and the bullet linger— to the very conclusion. Akin to the bone of some prehistoric animal on the beach. That is the kind of vision I have.’

The next time Boothill visits the seashore is a year after and on the exact day. Everything was left as it was. He glances at the white cottage, its windowpanes boarded, and smoulder emits from its chimney. Nevertheless, he’s conscious that you’ve long yielded life by the seashore. Drawing out the gun you’ve endowed him, he recalls your previous conversation— you’re somewhere out there in the world, strolling, with that bullet adhered in your mind, your memories mislaying an intangible, bubble-ish, blue trail.

And so, he does the same— raises the gun before his eyes, tilts his head slightly and shuts an eye. His fingers pull at the trigger, at the abyss ahead, at the fragments your memories mislaid at this spot.

You’re not there.

And you’ll never be.

jemvia, 2024. do not copy, share, repost, or re-upload my work on any website without prior consent.

#boothill #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #hsr

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harvardhaugland · 9 months

Note

Never requested anything in my life but how about a scenario where the reader jumpscares either jamie, luke or bosch (in the rooftops, while playing a game or training) and gets a laugh out of their reaction and then they get reader back for it except it leads into something a bit spicy 😳

Love your writing so much, I'll eat up anything you put out fr

-@gourdkeeper (anon because it'd message from my main </3)

twister! - luke ♡

a/n: ok funnily enough i actually had written ab eerily similar personal fic to something like this execpt it was an oc insert + they were training instead HELPPP but omg… yas of course!!! i already have another jamie fic in the works so i feel like i gotta switch things up w/ luke 👆👆sorry ive been writing nothing but fanfic smut lately and its only bc literally half of my account is old amateur fluff hcs LMAO

not proofread bc… YOLO!!!!

You do this routinely thing of hanging out with each and every one of your masters, a whole schedule, specific times of days. On Monday mornings Chun-li teaches you skeet shooting, Wednesday evenings are reserved for baking with Manon, Saturday nights are best for alcoholic shot games with Jamie.

Sometimes simple, sometimes ridiculous. You’re a real people pleaser.

No matter what day though, you always find some way to squeeze in game-time with your first master— Luke, of course. The two of you hangout often, being intimate whilst also eating snacks and constantly bantering whenever you game. Tonight was different, instead of the usual Strawberry Fighter IV ranked matches, you had suggested playing Twister. Boardgames are just some “old-fashioned fun”, you told him.

You both had been playing for hours now, no breaks, your limbs entwining, you have your head underneath Luke’s chest, both hands on two dots just below his feet. He has his face pressed against your back, facing the opposite way.

Luke is no Ryu, that’s for sure. But you’d like to think he would be somewhat skittish around scary insects— so before he reaches for the spinner again, your fingers lightly tickle his leg, trying to imitate the feeling of something crawling up his leg. Quickly, you shout, “Is that a spider?” drawing your hand back quickly.

“What—!?” Luke immediately backs away, falling off the plastic mat, shaking and kicking his legs frantically, watching you slowly rise up from the floor, fists in the air.

“Gotcha!” you point to him, laughing, holding your stomach with a wide grin on your face. Never in your life would you believe that actually worked as well as it did.

He pouts. Standing up, crossing his arms, checking his legs one more time, just incase, “Aw, c’mon. You cheated!” he points back at you, “But aw man, that was a good one..” he quietly admits. One thing about him that you’re glad about— he doesn’t take things to heart.

“I’ll get you back.” he swears, a wide smile on his face. Seemingly riled up already.

Before you quip back with a sly remark, Luke charges at you. Pinning you down against the floor, sparking up a playful wrestling match. Your legs are beside his hips, Luke’s arms are wrapped around your waist and his head is snuggled into the crook of your neck. He’s squeezing you, trying to pin you into submission. You’re too flustered to even try to “fight” back, simply giggling, hugging around his body instead, trying to insinuate to him.

“You’re bad.” he whispers, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Were you just trying to get into my pants? You could’ve just asked, y’know. I’d gladly twist you into a pretzel myself—“

“Stop it, you cornball.” you joke, lightly tugging his head back. Luke starts to attack your neck with kisses. He’s quick to slide his hands underneath your shirt, feeling up your chest, moving his lips to touch yours, he’s more rougher and excited than usual. The days where you manage to get under his skin are the best.

He pulls you closer towards him, pressing your hips together, grinding his erection against you. You card your hands through his hair, he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, mouth open agape, hot and bothered. He’s all of the sudden desperate to fuck you. He slides down your pants with haste, pulling down his own right after. When it comes to sex, Luke is way too excited, he’s often sloppy, messy as if he was actually inexperienced.

“You always look so good.” he says, pressing his fingers to your mouth, obliging you to open up, slicking his fingers with spit, sucking on his digits, muffled moaning as he continues to grind against you, pulling his fingers out.

Fucking on rooftops in the nighttime meant that you had privacy— but everyone could still very much hear you. So the two of you make a desperate effort to stay quiet, covering each other’s mouths everytime one lets out a particularly loud moan.

He makes it clear how badly he wants to be inside of you. He’s in a rush to use your spit as lube, teasing the tip of his cock into your entrance, closely observing your face for any sort of reactions as he slowly pushes in, groaning out in relief. Luke collapses against you, more licking and kissing all over your neck. Slow, hard thrusts rock your body back, he’s big, confident when he fucks, leaving you a sensitive, whiney, and needy mess everytime.

You want more, you beg for him, demand him to go harder, faster or slower. He obeys your every order, looking to please you, praise you.

“Luke,” you call out to him with a moan, “Close— so close.” you whine.

“Are you gonna cum? You just— god, you’re too good to me.” he groans, “I wish I could just fuck you all night, watch you get all shy for me.” he says, his thumb caressing your cheek. He’s hooked on all the noises you make, the little changes in your expression. It’s all too much, he feels you tighten around him, arching your back, pressing against his sweaty body.

“Good job, baby.” Luke pulls you into another tight hug, pressing a kiss to your neck, “Hold on, okay?” God, it seemed no matter how much you tease him, or how pent-up you’ll try to make him, Luke absolutely never would be degrading with you. When he speaks a constant flow of praises in your ears, the tone in his voice is shaky, so gentle with you, willing to keep going for as long as you cum.

You feel his cock twitch, his movements growing more sporadic, making the Twister mat underneath you two scrunch up and wrinkle, ruining the once wholesome little game. Luke lets out a relieved groan. His hips stutter as he cums inside, keeping you still against his pelvis, pulling out slow when he’s finished. “I’m still mad at you for cheating.” he jabs, sarcastic.

“Well, you paused the game last time I almost broke your win-streak! It’s fair game.” you reason.

#sf6 #sf6 x reader #street fighter 6 #street fighter x reader #luke sullivan #street fighter 6 x reader #dude im on a roll #i need more smutty luke fics that arent written by me now #PLEASE ILL PAY SOMEONE TO DO ITTTT

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munv · 11 months

Text

BONDS BEYOND RECOGNITION

For @cupids-chamber my sworn homie thru thick and thin ⭐️⭐️

I’ll be leavin a lil letter at the end of this <33

IT’S been 3 years since the distinguished Cupid has entered NRC. So many memories made along the way, so many people met and lastly so many bonds. The year is finally over and out last chapter ends with graduation. The 3rd years and old dorm leaders are all gone, and new heads are to be appointed for the dormitories.

So much has happened for the past few years that’s sometimes it just feels as if it was yesterday that she woke up in a coffin and met grim. Feels just like yesterday that she had gotten in trouble with her 2 best friends Ace and Deuce and it’s not like it’s only them either, everyone has grown and learnt from their mistakes and from one another as well.

“Hey prefect you gettin’ all moppy ‘n emotional on us now?” Ace nudged her teasingly. Cupid sent him a light glare but it wasn’t a spiteful one, just one that would shut him up a bit. Just then speaking of the whole group, here comes the rest of them

“I’d hope your not bothering her again Ace!” Yelled deuce from beside sebek who was supposedly glaring at ace. “Wha? You guys are such bullies y’know!”

“It’s gonna to be our last time here for a long while..so we might as well make it worth it” Epel said following closely behind along with Jack. “Exactly, we gotta make it worth it!”

Grim who came out of nowhere jumped on Cupid’s shoulder with a can of tuna “hey henchman! Guess what the headmaster gave me!” He exclaimed boastfully, and before even giving her the chance to answer he shoved multiple cans of tuna into her face, how he balanced all of that? No clue. Grim may be questionable, but he just shouldn’t be questioned in general.

The group before her started bickering, and whenever Cupid tends to close her eyes, the group before her goes back to their first year. Everything is nostalgic in a way actually, wherever she looks she sees memories. The once dimmed and dark hallways are decorated with lights and much more. Cupid slips away from the group with Grim hot on her trail. “Hey! Where ya goin?” He asked jumping on her head. “Nowhere in particular, just walking around.”

“Really takes you back doesn’t it?” She couldn’t tell if grim was really paying attention considering how he tends to get whenever he has tuna. He grumbles out a response with the food still in his mouth. “I guess..” Grim was never really this quite considering his personality so she could only assume he was thinking with what had become of his brain—at least what was left of it if there even was one.

Feeling tears on her shoulder she looks up to see grim hiding his face in her hair “stupid henchmen making me tear up..” he muttered. She then flashbacks to what the headmaster had talked to her about before sending her off to talk with everyone else.

#EARLIER

“I see you’ve finally come!” Crowley said happily from his chair. “Don’t be shy now and stand at the door, come in!”

“It’s been a few years since you’ve been here, yes? And I’d like to say something to you, not as a headmaster but as someone you could trust.”

He continues with a stern voice yet a soft expression. “You’ve come a long way and we have watched you grow for a long while now and I’d like to say that..I truly see you as my family. Yet as a headmaster I’ve come to recognize your accomplishments and everything you have been through. So, as of today I have a last request for you.”

Cupid raised her brow and looked at Crowley intently staying silent for a while, “which is?”

“Please, don’t forget us.” She didn’t expect this, a letter maybe or even a errand to make the last day of college better for everyone but..this was not something Crowley would say just lightly. He got up from behind his desk and got up to hug her. “I see you as family..everyone does as well, so carry these memories with you throughout your life here whether you find a way to get back or not”.

“That to you, is my request.” Before she could even get a word in she was abruptly pushed out of the office. “Now off you go! Make the most of your time, for I am gracious!” He then shit the door and Cupid let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Make the most of my time left huh? What a day.”

Unbeknownst to her, Crowley took off his mask and was almost on the verge of tears behind the door. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh, “what a wonderful few years this was..”

BACK to the present, she opens her eyes and finds herself with grim in her lap and everyone else in the garden having a picnic. “Thank you..” cupid said under her breath. “What was that prefect?” Asked Epel leaning in to hear her more clearly. “Nothing Epel, here, how about you carve me something?” She tossed him an apple and he swiftly caught it.

“It wouldn’t hurt to carve me something as well!..right?” Sebek said. Epel softly chuckled “don’t even gotta ask! I’m on it!”

#LETTER:

I’m here to say throughout all the time of being your friend cupid you are the most reliable and amazing people I’ve met. It was truly a honor to know you and it still is. Through all the time I’m proud to say you are more than a friend but you are family to me. I’d like to thank you personally for coming into my life and everyone else’s. You have influenced so many people is so many good ways and even on hiatus I wish to continue to support you through your life if you would allow me.

You are such an amazing person and so much more. It’s a honor to know you as a person, and I continue to thank you yet again for gracing us all with your presence. As a homie and someone who continuously harasses you with fun anons..I just can’t thank you enough

I bid you a farewell for now, friend ⭐️⭐️

#FROM: The One and Only MAKI

#{-muxis writes #x reader #headcanons #headcanon #oneshots #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #good luck cupid!#love you homie #twst first years #twst grim #disney twisted wonderland #twst oneshot

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starlitangels · 1 year

Text

Tired (Doesn’t Begin to Cover It)

I was Having Thoughts™ again. Too many, as always 3.0k words

—

Biting his lip, James dodged nimbly between two people and fell into step beside his friend. “Hey Aaron?”

Aaron jolted and whirled.

—Scared the hell outta me— —can’t just sneak up on a guy like that—

“Hey,” Aaron said instead. “What’s up?”

James faltered, not entirely sure what to say. “I-I-I... I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You look tired.”

—tired— —“tired” is generous— —doesn’t even begin to cover it— —absolutely f^&*ing exhausted more like—

“A little tired, sure.” Aaron shrugged. “I’m handling it.”

—have to handle it— —no other choice—

James chewed the inside of his cheek. Not knowing how to help. “Aaron...” He sucked in a sharp breath. “How are you really doing? Since... y’know... your dad...”

Aaron’s face shutdown immediately.

—none of your f^&*ing business— —bastard’s not even worth the effort it takes to care— —Mom’s checked out— —Elliott doesn’t even know how to handle all of this— —so young— —too young— —we both are— —honestly probably better if we got taken away from Mom— —but— —can’t let us get separated— —he can’t be taken away from me— —my baby brother— —my job to protect him now— —weird magic powers or not—

James blinked rapidly while Aaron stubbornly stared straight ahead of them and didn’t look at him. Aaron’s brother? Magic powers?

James forced himself to swallow. “Is there anything I can do to help you and your family?” he asked.

Aaron shook his head hard. “No. We’re fine.” He made a face. “Well. As fine as we can be in the wake of... everything.” He gestured vaguely, as if everything consisted of literally the entire universe’s effects on his life, not just his father’s death.

“How’s your mom handling it?”

“She’s not.” Aaron clenched his jaw. “She’s... shut down. Which is stupid. Dad wasn’t worth the dirt on her shoes.”

A dramatic declaration, in James’ opinion, but probably not an unwarranted one. “So... I imagine she’s not... being a great... caregiver?”

Aaron scoffed bitterly. “No.”

—got fired pretty much immediately after her bereavement leave was up— —barely leaves her room— —too numb to even respond to me most days—

“Do you and Elliott want to come over to my parents’ house for dinner sometime soon?” James offered.

Aaron glared at him with an icy blue stare. “We don’t need charity or pity, James,” he snapped.

“That’s not what this is,” James retorted. “You’re my friend, Aaron. And you’re going through a hard time. If I can be supportive to you, I will. That’s what friends do, you stubborn prick.”

Aaron huffed. “I’ll think about it,” he grumbled. There was a pause. The school bell rang, signaling everyone to start heading for classes. Aaron shifted to block James’ path before he could leave. “I’ll ask Elliott when I get home from work if he’d be fine with that. You two haven’t met and he can get a bit nervous and shy around strangers,” he added quietly.

James nodded. “That sounds good. If there’s anything I can do to make it easier, please tell me, okay?”

“... Sure.”

With that, Aaron dodged around James and disappeared into the crowd to head for class.

James set a hand on the brick wall of the hallway, leaned his weight on it, and sighed.

Aaron hadn’t thought about it directly—not in words anyway—but James had seen the two jobs he was working, trying to keep his family together. He’d seen a flash of memory of a younger teen boy with blond curls and purple eyes shining with tears.

A younger teen boy who was probably Elliott, Aaron’s younger brother.

Who apparently had magic powers.

Like mine? James wondered. Is that what this is? Is the mind-reading... magic?

“Hey!” his best friend called, rushing down the hallway through a rapidly-thinning crowd. “We’re gonna be late. Come on!” They grabbed his hand and started pulling him off for class. “Where did you go? You just disappeared.”

“Sorry. Saw a friend. Went to go talk to him.”

They chuckled. “Gimme a warning next time, will ya? I kept talking for thirty seconds after you disappeared, thinking you were still there.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just... tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

The two went to their homeroom class. James set his head on his desk, covering it with his arms, and tried to focus. On Aaron. His mind. Several classrooms away in his own homeroom class. His thoughts felt heavy in a way they usually didn’t unless someone was thoroughly exhausted.

He seemed to be dwelling on one memory in particular:

—

“A-Aaron?” a small voice asked.

Aaron rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “What is it, El?” He looked over to see Elliott peeking around the doorframe to Aaron’s bedroom, fingers holding onto it.

“I... I... I need to talk to you about something.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Aaron leaned back in his rickety old desk chair. “Okay. Go for it. What’s up?”

“Are-are you busy?”

“Always. But it can wait. Talk to me, Eli.”

“I... I met someone yesterday and... I finally got some answers.”

“About?”

“You... you know how my nightmares about the boating trip stopped a couple years ago?”

“Yeah. Most sleep I’ve gotten in years, not having to wake up and go soothe you.”

“Well... the nightmares stopped because I... I... I found out I can... control dreams. Not just... not just mine. Anybody’s, really. I felt my chest burn one night when I was twelve and ever since I’ve been able to control dreams. I didn’t know how or why for a long time but... but yesterday I ran into someone who radiated the same sort of energy, but kinda different. And they directed me to a... place. And... and I have magic, Aaron.”

Aaron blinked several times, eyes locked on his brother. “M... magic,” he said.

Elliott nodded, curls bouncing.

Aaron sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. “You’re a little old to be playing pretend, Elliott. I know Dad’s death has been hard on all of us and I don’t want to belittle your coping mechanisms but magic—”

“I’m not playing pretend, Aaron!” Elliott snapped. “God—why do you never believe anything I tell you? I never lie to you and you never believe me!”

Aaron rubbed his eyes. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you, Eli.”

“Look. Just—tonight—tonight I can prove it to you. I promise.”

“Assuming I even get to sleep tonight,” Aaron muttered under his breath, casting a glance at the three textbooks piled on his desk.

Elliott didn’t appear to hear him.

Aaron hated fighting with his brother. Usually tried to avoid it. But his patience was worn thin in his fatigue.

“Yeah. Sure. We’ll see about that,” he said a little louder so Elliott actually would hear him.

Elliott bit his lower lip and picked at his fingernails before retreating away from Aaron’s doorway.

—

The memory Aaron was dwelling on jumped, and James watched it smash cut like a movie.

—

“What the hell is this?!” Aaron demanded.

Elliott gestured around. “This is a dream. I’m controlling it. I told you I could. The lady at the place I went to told me I’m what’s called a Dreamwalker. See? Watch this.” Elliott raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The forest environment around them shifted to a beach. Elliott smiled. “I told you, I’m telling the truth. I’m using my magic to keep you lucid and aware that you’re dreaming so you’ll be able to remember this, and I’m shaping everything. I’ve been doing it for years. I just... I finally know why I can do it. And I’m not alone. The lady at the Department said there’s all kinds. Telepaths, Elementals, Psychokinetics, Warders—there are even vampires and shapeshifters. Usually just called shifters, apparently.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because you’re my brother. And they said it’s important for the families of humanborns to know about their powers.”

“What’s a humanborn?”

“Someone like me. Someone with magic from a non-magic family. Most people with magic have at least one parent with magic. The lady at the Department and I both think one of my biological parents had magic. But, you know, our family doesn’t have any.”

“Slow down. What Department?”

“The Department of Uniform Magical Practices. It’s a whole government for magical people.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Aaron groaned, rubbing his temples. “Get out of my head, Elliott.”

The excitement on Elliott’s face evaporated. “Aaron...”

Aaron balled his fists. “I said get out of my head!”

Elliott blinked a tear out of his eye. “O-okay.” He wiped his face and took a step back.

In a shimmer of purple light on his next step back, he vanished.

—

Aaron’s thoughts jumped; and from a few corridors away, James had to pull out of his head as his homeroom teacher got started with homeroom for the day.

—

Sighing, Aaron slid into the house and glanced around. The dishes that had been in the sink were gone. There were lines in the carpet showing it had been neatly vacuumed. The sharp scent of citrus cleaning supplies lingered in the air.

He slid his backpack off his shoulders and held the top loop in one hand, looking around in confusion.

“Mom?” he asked softly.

No response.

He took off his shoes before taking his backpack to his room and setting it beside his rickety old desk. He always thought about using the sturdier desk in their dad’s old study—but he could barely ever bring himself to even go in there when he dusted or vacuumed.

When his bag was down, he tested the door to his parents’ bedroom. Unlocked, as usual.

He eased it open and peeked in.

Mom was asleep. Looking like she’d barely moved since that morning when Aaron left for school. Aaron rolled his eyes and ducked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

He went to his brother’s room and knocked softly.

No response.

“El. I’m sorry for being terse last night,” Aaron said. A bit reluctantly. Quiet enough to not wake their mom, but loud enough for Elliott to hear him.

Silence.

“Elliott?” Panic hit Aaron’s bloodstream.

He grabbed the knob. Unlocked. It was rare for Elliott to lock it anyway, but Aaron figured he’d be angry with him.

Aaron shoved the door open.

Elliott’s dormer window was open.

Tension and terror eased out of Aaron’s shoulders. He crossed Elliott’s room and stuck his head out the window, looking around it.

Sitting on the roof, staring up at the sparse stars in the sky, was his little brother.

Aaron took a deep breath and climbed out onto the roof, carefully making his way over to sit next to his brother. Elliott didn’t even acknowledge he was there. Just kept staring heavenward.

“Hey,” Aaron said.

Elliott didn’t say anything. Didn’t even nod.

“Finish all your homework?”

No reply.

“I take it you did the dishes and vacuumed?” Aaron tried again.

No response.

Aaron sighed. “Did you eat? Make some dinner?”

Nothing.

Aaron clenched his jaw. “Thank you for doing the dishes and vacuuming. It also smelled like you wiped down the counters.” He peeked at his brother. Elliott was barely moving. His curls flicked against his forehead in the night breeze. “Thank you.”

Violet eyes remained fixed on the stars.

Aaron tried to dissipate the frustration building inside, but he felt like a pressure valve that hadn’t been released in too long. “Look. I’m sorry for being terse last night okay?” he snapped, still trying to keep his voice down. “That’s a major bomb to drop on someone, no matter the circumstances. You can’t blame me too much for freaking out.”

Elliott still didn’t move. Aaron nudged at him to make sure he was even there and his exhaustion wasn’t making him hallucinate his brother. But no. Solid. A soft purple T-shirt against the touch of Aaron’s elbow.

“Fine. Be pissed at me. Whatever,” Aaron spat. He dug into the pocket of his jacket. “They gave us these at work today. I hate beanies so I thought I’d give it to you. I already took a seam ripper to the patch that had the company logo on it on my break. So all that’s left is the brand embroidered logo on the back.” He set the dark grey beanie on the roof between him and his brother. “Keep it. Throw it out. I don’t care. Just thought you’d get more use out of it than I would.”

He scooted down the roof toward Elliott’s dormer window.

“I’m gonna do some homework before showering and going to bed. You should too.”

No movement. No response. Not so much as a peek.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He moved to climb back inside.

“You’re not Dad, you know,” Elliott said softly.

Aaron scoffed. “Yeah. No duh, Sherlock,” he retorted. “But guess what? Dad’s dead. He drank himself into a coffin. And Mom can’t even pull herself together enough to take care of us. So someone has to. And I’m the oldest—so it falls on me. No. I’m not Dad. And I never want to be Dad. But no one else is going to look after you—so by God I’m going to do it.”

“I can take care of myself.” Elliott’s voice was just as quiet as before.

“Good for you,” Aaron said sarcastically. “But you’re not keeping this roof over our heads. I am. So while that falls on me, I’m going to keep asking if you ate dinner and did your homework. Because no one else is going to care enough to check. You’re my little brother and I love you. Stupid magic or not. So it’s my job to look after you, now.” He put one foot into his brother’s room through the open window. “Now get your ass inside before you catch a cold. I don’t want to hear you whining about allergies on the way to school tomorrow either.”

He ducked inside and stomped out of his brother’s room and into his own.

His desk chair creaked as he sat in it. He planted his elbows on the desk and rubbed his temples. His eyes were stinging from being so tired and dry.

After a few minutes, he heard scraping on the roof of his brother sliding down it toward his window.

He took a deep breath and sighed before reaching into his bag for his assignment and textbook.

Before remembering his conversation with James that morning and James’ offer.

He swore under his breath. “I’ll ask him on the drive to school tomorrow,” he muttered. “Elliott doesn’t want to talk to me tonight.” He shook his head and fished around in his cup of pens for one that had a decent amount of ink left.

—

“El! Come on! I’m leaving! If your ass isn’t in this car in two minutes you’re walking!” Aaron called as he yanked his shoe on. His brother hadn’t invaded his dreams last night because Aaron hadn’t had time to sleep. By the time his homework was done, his alarm was twenty minutes away from ringing and he’d needed a shower.

Exhaustion clung to his every movement and the sag in his shoulders. But even though he slung his backpack on slower than usual, he was going to keep going. Another long day ahead of him.

He heard the familiar click of Converse on the linoleum floor. Heard Elliott clear his throat.

“Did you have breakfast?” Aaron asked as he pulled his other shoe on.

“Yeah. Before you came out to the kitchen,” Elliott said quietly. “How... how do I look?”

Aaron looked up.

He saw Elliott’s purple Converse first. His usual shoes. The grey skinny jeans were pretty normal too. One of Elliott’s multiple purple T-shirts—this one with the NASA logo in a small patch on the upper left chest—

And the grey beanie Aaron had handed him last night nestled over his hair.

Aaron snorted. “That’s not how kids your age wear beanies,” he said. He approached his brother and adjusted it, pulling it farther back on Elliott’s head to let some of his curls flop out onto his forehead so the beanie also flopped at the back. “There you go.”

“Better?” Elliott fidgeted.

“Yeah.” Aaron tried for a smile, but he was too tired for it to reach his eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Elliott smiled—a tiny little thing that barely turned up the corners of his mouth—and followed Aaron out to the car.

“Oh. By the way. My friend James invited us over to his place for dinner sometime soon. Wanna go?”

“When?”

“He just said ‘soon.’ Probably so we could figure out a good time after you said whether you wanted to go or not. I know you’re not always particularly comfortable around strangers and you’ve never met James before.”

“Thanks. And, uh... sure. Sometime soon.” Elliott nodded as he climbed into the car.

“Cool. I’ll tell him.”

The drive to school was quiet. When they pulled into the school’s parking lot and found a place, Elliott didn’t get out of the car immediately. Not even moving. Aaron paused with his hand on the door handle.

“El?” he asked.

Elliott was staring at the scuffed toes of his Converse. “Thank you, Aaron. For everything.”

Before Aaron could say anything, Elliott yanked open the door and rushed out of the car, half-jogging for the school while Aaron sat there, halfway out of the car himself, staring after his brother in confusion.

—Where did that come from?—

—

James glanced at his best friend. “I’ll see you in homeroom. I’m gonna go talk to my friend for a minute.”

They smiled. That smile he loved so deeply. “Okay! See you in homeroom.”

James grinned back and ducked between two people to make his way through the crowds to find Aaron.

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Audio #Redacted Aaron #Redacted Elliott #Redacted James

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stawpny · 6 months

Text

GUYS I AM BEGGING YOU

SOMEONE DRAW NEW YORK IN THE 1989 ERAS TOUR OUTFIT OR THE REPUTATION ONE

PLEASE I WOULD LITERALLY COMBUST AT THE SEAMS

AUGHHH

🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

anyways, ik a lot of ppl go on here and see when I post, hoping it’s headcannons and I just disappoint them

so here’s some hc’s for u children

ny and the south edition! (pls I don’t know much about the south so don’t kill me 😭 I’m a new yorker)

(the quotes with names on it are southerners communicating with NY or whoever else u want, but more specifically NY)

- NC and SC always force NY or any other state who would hate it to sing and/or play the banjo when singing a song at a campfire. Even if they suck at singing or playing the banjo!!!

-speaking of campfires, I believe that the states usually have fires every Summer and Autumn. most get together and sing songs and stuff (u can use this idea if u want)

-New York was forced by Gov to make sure a southern party didn’t go terribly. He stood by the door while Texas wouldn’t leave him alone. He stole Texas’ hat when they all passed out, drunk and still has it to date.

-as (maybe) stated before, York plays a lot of instruments, and sometimes they force him to play the acoustic guitar, harmonica, banjo, electric guitar, etc. The NE makes fun of him for it.

-acts gay especially in front of the south just to make them pissed. he’ll flirt with them and make them uncomfortable with the high amount of gay in the room with them. Florida just goes along with it, laughing and pointing at all the southerners that turn away out of embarrassment.

-made fun of Texas and California when they were outlaws and they just joined the union. “I’m tha toughest cowboy ya will ever meet!” “Mhm.” “DONT JUS’ HUM AT ME!!” >:( -Texas

-They know better than to mess with a northerner. Texas doesn’t though, he’s just stupid. York punched him once and he swore he saw him crying to Virginia after.

-has bit many southerners, does not regret it

-“Gimme yer best ‘yeehaw’” “yeehaw..” “Ya can do better than that! I’ve heard ya yell at Jersey.” “yeehaw.” “York, I swear-“ “YEE- FUCKIN’ HAW!”-Texas

-“just add some ol’ bay, it’ll make it taste better.” “No it fuckin’ won’t. Keep that shit away from my brownies.”- Maryland

-played poker against Texas, won and almost got shot by him. (Sore loser)

-“what are yous gonna start growlin’?” “GRRRRR-” -Kentucky

-“nah yer good ‘ere.” “Yous are ontop of me. I dunno if I should feel turned on or uncomfortable..” -Georgia

-“off-brand me.” “southerner you, which makes better.” -also Georgia (Empire State and Empire State of the south)

- “who made you this way..?” “The man yer datin’, Y’know, Mass’.” “He would never-“ “Gin, yous even know the answer to this question, it’s an obvious yes.” -Virginia

-“get rid’a the car at this point.” “Hey! I spent my life savin’s on ol’ reliable ‘ere! I ain’t gettin’ rid o’ her if she jus’ has a leak!” “Life savin’s? Jesus, what’s wrong wit’ yous?” - Tennessee

-“ that’s ‘cause Sippi’ wants a sip of that dick.” “WHAT. I ain’t gay!” *crickets* “GUYS PLEASE-“ -Mississippi

-“are yous happy to live in this shithole?” “Hey! I work hard to make this house a home!” “Work harder next time. This looks like if a hillbilly came in ‘ere trashed the place. Y’know, that makes sense knowin’ that yous idiots live ‘ere.” *walks away* “HEY! YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” -Alabama

- “I HATE YOU!” “NUH UH! I HATE YOU MORE!” “‘nuh uh’ really proves yer point, north.” -NC & SC

- “Mais sha, ya really know how shade the south, huh?” “I’ve had enough of all of yous and I’ve seen ya at yer highest and lowest, so I know what will make yous cry later.” “Uh huh, do me then.” “Nah. Don’ get me wrong, yer barely tolerable, but ya don’ get one.” - Louisiana

(loui was upset later bc he didn’t get one 😭)

-“I swear, ya say anythin’ about me bein’ in ‘misery’ then I’m gonna-“ “Nah, I don’ care ‘bout that. What I do care about is why you like mules better than horses. Isn’t that like the whole southerner thing? Horses and idiots with hats?” -Missouri

-“are yous even apart of the south, or are you like the West Virginia of Kansas?” “JESUS IS GONNA NEED TO BLESS YER ASS SOON, WHAT THE HELL DID YA JUS’ SAY TO ME?!” “I’m Jewish.” -Arkansas

-“yer mid-atlantic, but I understand why ya don’ go to family dinnahs wit’ the Northeast. If I had an excuse, I would use it too.” “You guys are scary up there, I’m shocked you still go to those things. In the ‘contract’ they said they were optional.” “FUCKIN’ OPTIONAL?!” -Delaware

-“I will eat your face.” “Uh huh.” “PAY ATTENTION TO ME OR IM GOING TO DO SOMETHING DRASTIC!” “Uh huh.” “AAAAAAAAA-“- Florida

—

could u tell I got lazy at the end?

anyway, I hope you liked

I spent so long on the quotes, trying to come up with a good one was the hardest part.

and I know half of them are reaaally bad 😭

augh

I have no clue what to do for the next chapter of a fic

but anyways, ily guys

#wttt #welcome to the statehouse #wttsh #wttt new york #wttsh headcanons #wttsh new york #wttt headcanons #wttt southern states #wttt south #ARG #please 🙏#draw him I beg of you #(jk) u don’t have to #I just think he would look hot

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yesttoheaven · 9 months

Text

lost in time and space – joel miller x f!reader

the song "lost in time and space" is about feeling disoriented and disconnected from one's life, as if they are drifting in a dark and unfamiliar place. despite his precarious situation, the narrator maintains hope that he will eventually find his way back, ultimately saying the name of his beloved into the night to remind himself of why he is on this journey in the first place.

𓆩warnings; foul language, a lot of fluff and ellie being... ellie haha [no use of y/n]

[english is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors]

You were arranging your clothes in the wardrobe while humming a random song, enjoying the peaceful routine in Jackson and the crickets chirping outside, being the backing vocals on your little show. You even had a one-man crowd – but that part you didn't know yet.

— What are you humming, huh? – The southern drawl made you jump and turn on your heels, finding Joel leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with genuine curiosity. — You know… You’re pretty good with that voice of yours.

You shake your head, not taking his words seriously, but the small smile on your lips tells another story.

— It's just an old song.

— Come on… sing some more, will ya? – He chuckles, walking over to you. — You seem genuinely happy for once. I’d like to hear more.

— Nuh-uh... I was just humming because I didn't know you were there. And now that I know... – You feel that familiar warmth creep up your cheekbones and you quickly look away, focusing on your previous task.

— Ah, that makes sense... – There's a pause, a second or two, and then his voice breaks the silence: — I gotta say, you're cute when you get all shy around me.

— Shy? No way. – You put the summer dress that Maria gave you on the hanger.

— You make it clear when you can't even look at me, missy!

As soon as you leave the hanger in the wardrobe, you take a deep breath and turn your attention to the Texan.

— Oh, you didn't even try to deny it! – He laughs, before he stops and becomes serious. He just looked at you, enjoying the moment in his own way, before a ghost of a smile crept across his lips. — Y'know, just a week ago, I never thought I'd be living here and having a moment like this. It's nice. No more infected in every shadow, no more looters lookin' for a fight in the middle of the road. It's just… it's peaceful.

— Yeah, I know the feeling. It's nice to be able to lay in a bed again and sleep without having to worry about keeping watch. – You nod emphatically and close the wardrobe doors. Being in Jackson was like a long-forgotten dream of normalcy.

— Not only that, but we got more food than we know what to do with, got running water, hot showers... – Joel could easily list all the good points of the commune for hours and with a sigh he adds: — Life's good, ain't it?

— Too good to be true sometimes.

— Ain’t gonna say I haven’t been waitin’ for some other shoe to drop… but… I’m just gonna take this win. Live while we can. That’s all we can do, really. But I’m still gonna be prepared. For anything. I ain’t letting my guard down. If you see anything even a little suspicious, let me know.

— Sure thing, boss! – You salute, just teasing him. And he grins at you.

— Boss, huh? Y’know, it ain’t a half bad nickname.

— Oh, do you like this one?

— Maybe a lil’ bit. – He chuckles, stepping in front of you and you couldn't help but admire how tall he was. — I mean, it’s better than old timer.

— I definitely prefer old timer! It's funny. And it's good to piss you off a little...

— Pissin me off? That’s one hell of a hobby!

— Don't be a crybaby, I'm practically an angel in your life, Miller!

— That’s the joke of the decade, right there! – Joel shook his head slightly, his tone sounded angry but the amusement was still there. — You’ve gotten on my nerves far too many times... too many times!

— Now you're just being mean.

— Says the person who enjoys irritating me. You know you’re a real piece of work, right? – He chuckles to himself. It was hard to deny that just a few minutes around you turned the brooding survivor into a... big, giggling softie?

— Maybe that's what makes us a great duo. We have a good dynamic, don't we? – Your laugh came out to match his.

— I guess you have a point there. And I wouldn’t change a damn thing about it! No matter how much I tease you about it, I am glad to have you by my side.

— Same here for you, Joel. Ah, and I also know that my company is pleasant, I am kind and I care about my middle-aged partner!

— You just had to pull that insult outta nowhere, now, didn’t ya? – The southerner just rolls his eyes, huffing. — Well, guess what? I care too, and I’ve been the one looking out for your ass.

— Ohhh, so you admit you looked at my ass? – That wasn't the point of his sentence and you knew it, but it was still fun to get under his skin.

— What? No! – A tinge of embarrassment came to his voice, and the way he spoke was slightly panicked. Joel quickly corrected himself: — I mean... uh, just… making sure your ass is covered! You know, just… What I mean is that I keep an eye out for you. I would never stare at your behind!

— Not even once?

— Why the hell would I? – He sighs heavily, but looks away. — 'Kay, fine. One time here and there... just a glance. But, hey... I was just appreciating the... scenery. I like what I see, alright?

That wasn't the answer you expected to get from him. It caught you off guard, but in a good way. Unfortunately, poisonous thoughts crept into your mind with equal intensity. Joel only appreciated the scenery because he didn't have a better option available and now in Jackson... Well, his options are plentiful. You're not blind, you've seen how women twist their necks when he walks by them. And when he plays guitar on the porch... Oh, the word "sisterhood" no longer exists in your moral dictionary. One of them came to offer him coffee! Come on, that's not fair.

— But... middle-aged, huh? Ouch! My heart. – He jokes, rubbing his chest. His amused tone came in an attempt to lighten the mood. Your silence worried him. He wondered if he had been too bold... Or he's just rusty when it comes to flirting with a pretty woman. Joel was ready to apologize when your voice brought him back to reality:

— Don't take this personally, I'm just kidding. Pissing you off is my hobby, remember? But I'm not kidding when I say I like those gray spots on your temples...

— You like my grey hair? You like me lookin’ like a grandpa? That’s a first.

— Grandpa?! You don't look like a grandpa, Joel!

— I appreciate the kind lie, missy. – He smiles warmly.

— I'm being honest.

Something in your eyes – the sweetness or the affection – made his heart skip a beat.

— Y’know that? I’m glad I’m sharing this house with you. I know that was a bit much, but… y’know, just gotta express my appreciation every now and then.

— Coming to Jackson with you and Ellie was one of the best things that ever happened to me... I like being here, it brings me peace of mind. I thought I had lost that. – That was a nostalgic topic. Your voice was full of that old nostalgia, the one that missed home, the one that's been with you for 20 years.

— I feel the same. This place… it’s just the perfect way to live. No cannibals, no infected. Just… peace. I can say that I’m finally living normally… finally living peacefully. I just… I just hope that this’ll last forever. Y’know?

With those words, a small but sincere smile crossed your lips and your hand touched his shoulder, leaving a comforting grip.

— That feeling of normalcy is welcoming and I can't imagine what it would be like to lose it again... – Your eyes leave Joel and roam your bedroom, focusing on the small details. Everything was simple, but enough to warm your heart. — We'll be fine. We survive with much less... And now we have a hot shower!

— You’re absolutely right. Hot shower. Decent food. A real bed. And the best part... I get to share it with you. – He cups your chin, making you look at him again.

— I appreciate that.

— And I appreciate you. Your company helped me come to terms with everything. My past. My fears. You were a light, and without you I’m sure I’d be lost… dead. I just want you to know that.

— You saved me in so many ways, Joel. – You take the moment to be honest and maybe a little cheesy. Despite all the arguments, you always felt that Joel was worthy of your trust and loyalty, unlike many other survivors you've come across along this road. And to say you became attached to him was an understatement.

— For the first time in my life, all the worries of the apocalypse don’t matter. The only thing on my mind now is… you and me… and just enjoying the moment. Isn’t that something? – Joel looked calm, somehow the lines on his face were smoother. Being in Jackson was doing him good. And hearing him speak of you with such affection and love brought that familiar warmth back to your cheeks. — But even with everything we have here now, it just never felt right, never felt complete. And it never will, until I do one more thing...

— And what would that be?

Joel suddenly grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you close, pressing his lips firmly against yours. It took you a few seconds to understand what was going on before you closed your eyes and kissed him back, your hands traveling to his back. He lets his free hand glide down your waist, pulling you closer and pressing his body more firmly against yours. His embrace is forceful and firm, but he's still gentle. His lips gently part as his tongue finds yours. The kiss is deep and intimate, months of pent-up love breaking free.

You both let out soft groans of satisfaction as you pull slightly away from each other, your breaths heavy and audible. You look at Joel with dazed eyes, your fingers still pressed against his back.

— How’d I go so long without you? – His eyes light up and he chuckled. Joel looked so incredibly happy and that happiness was also reflected in your face.

— That's a good question. Without my charming presence your days must have been so boring! I bet that's why you were all grouchy when we first met, huh?

— I will not hesitate to kick your ass! I will get you for that! – He says, jokingly grabbing you by the shoulders firmly.

— Sorry cowboy, but you'll have to catch up with me first! – You giggle, slipping out of his grasp.

— Oh, oh I get you! – He tried to grab you, but you were quick. — Come on now, you're going too fast! – Joel sighs, running towards you again, pretending to be angry.

— Or you're just too slow! Your old legs might really be a problem after all. – Your amused laugh echoed through the house as you ran away from him.

— I’ll get you, I will, I swear! – He yells, running after you. He caught up with you in the kitchen, where he suddenly grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around like he wasn't even trying. — Gotcha! – He smirked, before leaving a peck on your lips. You tried to delve in for a kiss, but Joel had other plans. — You’re in so much trouble, my darlin'... – His voice was low, almost menacing as he towered over you in a failed attempt to be intimidating. Then he spread sloppy little kisses all over your face. — That’s what you get for teasing the old man.

— Well, then I should tease you more...

Without giving you time to complete the sentence, Joel pinned you against the kitchen table, using his broad frame to keep you in place.

— You’re playing with fire. – He whispers, his husky voice able to send shivers to all the right places on your body. — And if you don’t shut up… – Joel rubs his nose against yours, his head lowering a little to plant a kiss on your cheek... another on your jawline... and another on your neck. — I might just have to kiss you over and over and over...

The moment seemed perfect until it was interrupted by the exaggerated sound of someone clearing their throat and it wasn't from you or Joel. As soon as the two of you pulled away, your eyes found Ellie standing in the doorway, holding back a laugh.

— I always suspected you guys were being sneaky... but holy shit, it's worse! You guys are cheesy as hell!

— I swear to god, Ellie! If you start with your jokes right now, you’ll be in real trouble. – Joel complains, pointing a finger at her sternly and you don't know how to react at that moment. This is just one of those many father-daughter interactions between them.

— Okay, okay... I need to go see Dina anyway. She'll be delighted to hear there's a new couple in Jackson... But don't worry, go back to what you two were doing!

Joel sighs heavily, shaking his head in annoyance. He then looks at you with an apologetic smile on his lips.

— You’ll excuse me for a second. – He walks towards the doorway, following Ellie as she leaves the kitchen. Facing her, he lowered his voice, but still talking sternly: — What’s with the childish crap?

— I just heard all the giggles and footsteps around the house... I needed to check what was going on! And then I find you two making out in the kitchen... Where's the manners, old man? This commune is family friendly!

— Don’t even try to play dumb with me... – He grumbled under his breath, narrowing his eye at Ellie. — Fine, okay. You caught us. We’re heading towards a relationship when you stick your big ass nose in the way, alright? You happy? – Joel crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

He was expecting a lot of reactions from her, but the sincere smile that lit Ellie's face made Joel let his guard down. She was happy for him.

— She makes you look like a big softie... That's good.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly.

— I’ve been through so much, but… I’ll admit… it ain’t a bad feeling. Maybe I'm getting soft, kiddo.

Ellie nods, enjoying this new perspective. Maybe you could make the grumpy old man a little softer around the edges. He could use this.

With one last sarcastic remark, she left the house, going to meet her own girlfriend. Joel let out a deep sigh, before returning his focus to the only thing that really matters at the moment: you.

— Ellie being Ellie, huh? – You say, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression on your face.

— That’s the problem.. she’s too much Ellie, for damn sure. – He grumbles, chuckling as he rested his head against your shoulder. — I think I better get you back to my room before that little punk of mine sees us like this again. I don’t know how many times we can take her interruptions... – He pouts and you thought it was extremely cute.

— Poor Joel...

— Oh, shut up… – Joel pulls you close to him. — I just wanna get some privacy with my lady, is that too much to ask for?

— Easy, cowboy! So I'm already your lady now?

— Damn straight you are! – You could feel his breath on your neck and the edge of his smile on your skin. — You’re all mine, no doubt about it, hun.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller #the last of us imagine #the last of us #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou

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pastanest · 1 year

Text

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

spoilers: set in season 3

trigger warning: reference to verbal/mental domestic abuse

Waiting In The Wings

Being in love was not something Daryl Dixon enjoyed. For the longest time, he denied the mere possibility of it, he never thought that somebody like him would experience such a thing. But when you arrived in his life, blinding in the most beautiful way, you changed everything. It was like Daryl’s world stopped, because it realised that it’s whole purpose was to revolve around you.

It was all the way back in Atlanta, he was out on a hunt when you arrived at the camp, and by the time he came back you’d already introduced yourself to everyone. As soon as you saw him, you walked over to him with the brightest smile he’d ever seen, and held out your hand.

“Hi! Im (Y/N), you must be Daryl! Rick told me all about you!” You were so cheerful, so genuinely happy to meet him, he couldnt believe it.

The scoff that passed Daryl’s lips was automatic, but unintentional, and the same can be said for the words that followed. “He tell ya t’ come talk to me too?”

You laughed, you genuinely laughed, as though you thought Daryl had been joking and not verbalising his own insecurities. “No, silly! I wanted to meet you myself, it’s only right, you’re part of the group and we’re new here, so-“

Daryl frowned at you. “We?”

You nodded. “Yeah, me and-“

A gruff voice shouted your name from within a tent, and you jumped, your smile falling as you turned to look at the man clambering into view behind you.

Daryl was angry, he couldnt help it, nor could he understand it. Such a pure joy had survived in you, but that man had the audacity to steal it whenever he made an appearance. That anger stayed with Daryl, but somehow it didnt keep you away. You chose to sit with him to eat whenever he wasnt away on a hunt, you made conversation with him wherever you could. He couldnt fathom it.

By the time the group found the farm, you’d managed to break through some of Daryl’s hard exterior. He allowed himself to enjoy your company, to actually have decent conversations with you that werent almost completely one sided from you. Whenever you were with Daryl, he made you laugh harder than anyone else, you never lit up quite like you did when he was around. The rest of the group noticed, of course, but they wouldnt dare interfere. And just like Daryl, they knew the asshole that was your boyfriend.

More times than Daryl could count, he’d found you sobbing silently, all by yourself in various places across the farm, in the dead of night. And every single time, he’d sit with you, wrap an arm around you, and wait. Sometimes, you wouldnt say anything, just cry it out, thank him, and go. But sometimes, you would tell him what had happened, what that fucker had done to make you cry this time. Daryl tried his absolute best not to be insensitive, not to tell you to “just leave him”, because he knew you too well, he knew that wouldnt get through to you. So he just listened, and comforted in the best way he knew how: protective silence.

The mornings after nights like that were always a little awkward, because you would walk up to Daryl like everything was fine, and he wouldnt be able to just play along.

“He doesnt hit me or anything, it’s fine.” You told him once while the two of you ate breakfast at his camp, a safe distance away from everyone else.

Daryl turned to look at you and you avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldnt like whatever he was about to say, because you knew it would be true. “Don’ downplay it, y’know it aint right. Hittin’ ya would just make it more obvious.”

But Daryl knew you too well. No matter how many times that asshole screamed in your face, threatened to leave you, called you every unholy thing under the sun...you couldnt leave him. You’d explained it to Daryl once before, completely by accident. You’d casually brought up how disconnected you felt to the world before, to who you were before all of this, and that your boyfriend felt like your one last living connection to both. It wasnt in Daryl’s heart to agree, but he understood. If you lost that last connection, you thought you’d lose everything, every trace of the person you were and the life you had, everything else you’d lost would go with him. Daryl didnt have that, but he didnt need to, because he had you as his best friend. It didnt matter that he didnt know you before, because he was head over heels with who you’d become.

Naturally, your boyfriend and Daryl did not get along. While Daryl’s disliking to him was justified, your boyfriend despised Daryl simply because he made you happy, and took you away from him, the man you were supposed to love. Time and time again, Daryl would see him yell in your face and you would cower away, but anytime your boyfriend tried to get at Daryl, you would lose it. He couldnt believe the first time he saw you give that fucker a piece of your mind.

“This piece of shit redneck aint got nothin’ on me, I could take him out in a heartbeat, and I will if I see him near you again!” Your boyfriend threatened, and Daryl took a step forward, ready to stand in front of you and defend himself, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Leave him the hell out of this! In fact, leave his name out of your mouth entirely, because if I hear you say shit like that again I’ll spin your fucking jaw.” You seethed, before storming past your boyfriend, deliberately slamming into his shoulder as you pulled Daryl away, leaving both men stunned.

It was an altercation just like that one which resulted in you and your boyfriend being separated when the farm fell. He’d found you and Daryl laughing together in a secluded part of the farm, and got so mad he stormed off into the wilderness. Nobody bothered to follow him, and you didnt see him again until you saw walkers tear his stomach open and pull his intestines out right in front of you.

Daryl had just been racing towards you on his bike to rescue you, but when he followed your eyes and witnessed that, then saw you start to go into hysterics before you fainted in the middle of the field, it was all or nothing. He jumped off his bike and ran to you, shoving walkers left and right to keep them away as he swung you up in his arms and ran with you back to his bike. He rode to the highway with Carol, while you laid unconscious between his body and the bike to keep you from falling.

That gorgeous smile, his favourite laugh in the world. They became distant memories. Daryl used to be able to make you smile and laugh more than anyone else, he could barely manage to bring them back most days. Even finding the prison didnt pull you out of the deep abyss you’d lost yourself in.

Daryl shares a cell with you in the prison now. Every single night, without fail, he hears you in the bunk above him, waiting until you believe he’s asleep before you let yourself break into a thousand pieces, sobbing as quietly as you can into your pillow until you pass out. Daryl has tried talking to you about it, but you just shrug it off, apologising lamely for potentially keeping him awake but never saying more than that. These days, you cant even make it out of your cell. Your only movement is travelling from your top bunk to Daryl’s bottom bunk once he’s no longer in it, because Hershel comes to check on you everyday and it’s much easier for him to talk to you when you’re in the bottom bunk. By no means is Hershel particularly trained in aiding this kind of thing, but he’s the wisest person in the prison, the most trusted one to deal with your fragile state, apart from Daryl. Other people come to visit you too, Rick drops by every once in a while, Beth and Maggie too. Daryl even brought Judith in to see you once, and you burst into tears at the sight of her, it was just too much for you.

Anytime Hershel goes to see you, Daryl waits down the corridor for Hershel to walk by, and tries to get him to give him an update on how you’re doing, or what you’ve said. Daryl is your best friend, there are some things you just cant tell him because it’ll hurt him to hear you’re in so much pain.

“How’s she doin’?” Daryl asks the moment Hershel rounds the corner. Hershel used to jump at the sight of Daryl waiting for him, but now he’s used to it.

He sighs. “It’s private, I will tell you no more than the fact that she doesnt want to end her life.”

That is music to Daryl’s ears, and he doesnt pester Hershel anymore, letting the wise man pass him by.

Hope is restored in Daryl then, and he forms a plan. It’s a very vague plan, but still a plan. Before now, he didnt know if there was any way for him to help, or if it was even possible, but hearing even the tiniest ray of a positive sign from Hershel gave Daryl the determination to try anything. He was already eating every meal with you because he knew even if you didnt feel like eating, you’d get hungry watching him eat and wouldnt be able to resist. But Daryl starts doing more. Every single day, he brings you a flower. Just one, everyday. Once he’s picked every flower within the fences, he goes beyond the fences everyday to bring back a single flower for you, not that he’d ever tell you that he potentially risks his life for that. The smile on your face, however small, is genuine whenever he brings you one, a smile so small that other people probably wouldnt even notice it, but Daryl does, and that alone makes it absolutely worth it.

His own smile lingers on his face as he patrols the fence, hours after giving you your daily flower and seeing a glimmer of you returning to yourself. The sun is setting, and Daryl’s just returning back to the prison doors when he sees something that stops him dead in his tracks. You, walking outside, squinting in the light and shielding your eyes. Daryl sprints up to you.

“Hey there sunshine! What’re you doin’ up?” His voice is soft with you, it always has been, but lately it’s been even softer because he knows how fragile you are.

You smile at him then, not quite your beaming bright smile, but almost. “Felt like it was time to get some air.”

Hershel’s standing behind you, smiling away like he knows something, because he does.

That night, you dont cry yourself to sleep.

Daryl waits until he hears soft snores before he allows himself to fall asleep, but your crying wakes him. You may not have cried yourself to sleep, but you started crying in your sleep.

Daryl stands up from his bunk and gently shakes you awake.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N), wake up, yer alright.”

Once your eyes open and you realise where you are, you shakily climb down the ladder and Daryl picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style.

“C’mere sweet girl, ‘s alright, yer alright, I’ve gotcha.”

He sits back in his bunk, letting you lie between his legs with your head on his chest, he plays with your hair and draws patterns on your arm to calm you down. It takes maybe fifteen minutes for your tears to stop, but he waits, and they do.

“It isnt grief that’s doing this.” You say suddenly, finding your voice.

“What?” Daryl asks, beyond confused by such a simple confession. Not once had he considered that you were dealing with anything else, he’d seen other people grieve, he saw what happened to his dad as a result of grief. The catalyst of this was the death of your boyfriend, how could it possibly be anything else?

“It’s guilt.” You say, only leaving Daryl with more questions.

“What d’ya mean?” He speaks into the dark, willing to wait forever if that’s what it takes for you to find the words you need. Much to Daryl’s surprise, though, it seems that you’ve been spending all this time in the prison finding the words, because you start speaking them right away.

“Seeing him die, it hurt, it made me feel like I’d lost something, but it didnt feel like I’d lost someone I loved. I didnt love him in the end, I couldnt. He was the last connection I had to the world before, but he was a dick, I knew that, and I was stupid to stay with him for the sake of nostalgia.” You shake your head, clearly disappointed in yourself, but Daryl is still confused as to why. “It isnt so bad because he definitely didnt love me either.” You say, reciting a truth you knew to be real, one that you’d recited to yourself time and time again while coming to terms with all of this.

“Then what are ya feelin’ so guilty about?”

Daryl questions, wondering if now that he knows it isnt grief at the root of this, whether there’s more he can do to help.

You take a deep breath. “I fell out of love with him long before finding your group, and it was only when I did that I realised, because I fell in love with someone else. Every single day, I knew it was there, but I ignored it, pushed it away. Seeing him die made me realise that I’d wasted so much time on him, if the one I loved had died in his place that night...” You shake your head frantically, wiping your eyes with balled fists before resting back against Daryl’s chest. “I should’ve admitted my feelings, to myself and to him. I feel guilty for not ending things with him, for not letting myself move on with someone who was so much better for me, for forcing that person to sit and watch me pretend to love someone else. And now I feel even worse, because while I’ve been stuck like this, the guy I’ve been scared to adore has been taking care of me.” You admit, and without needing to explicitly say it, the penny has dropped right in Daryl’s lap, where you lay nestled and nervous, awaiting his response as you awkwardly stare off into the dark.

After a few minutes of silence, Daryl speaks up. “‘m guessin’ yer not talkin’ about Hershel?”

You chuckle at that, your first laugh in what feels like an eternity, and Daryl’s heart sings. Shaking your head again, you snuggle back into Daryl, neither of you needing to say anything else. Soon enough, you both fall into the most peaceful sleeps you’ve ever had.

Daryl doesnt make a move on you, it isnt the right time, he knows that. Regardless of what you’ve said tonight, you need to heal, you need to be completely in the right mind before you make a decision like that. And he’ll wait. Even if he’s been head over heels in love with you since day one, he has all the patience in the world when it comes to you.

You also know that you need to heal, and you give yourself the time to do just that. After that night, the two of you stay close friends, but there’s a little something hiding behind shy smiles and small glances. It doesnt go further than that for a while, because it doesnt need to.

Until one day, when the two of you are out on a run. Daryl’s noticed that you’ve become yourself again. The you that previously only appeared in front of him, she’s now everywhere, in front of everyone, all the time. And he isnt jealous, because the rest of the world deserves to see the beautiful person he always knew you were. Before, if you werent with Daryl you were with your boyfriend, but now you talk to everyone without fear, without worry, and with so much joy.

He sees it as you’re humming and dancing to yourself as you walk in front of him, completely in your own world.

You smile and point up at the sky “Look! That cloud looks like an arrow! We should follow it.”

And then you’re sprinting off in that direction, making Daryl laugh as he runs after you. When you get a certain distance, you stop with your back to him.

“This is it.” You state, nodding to yourself.

“This is what?” Daryl questions, having no idea what you’re referring to in any capacity.

“Where the arrow was leading us.” You explain, still not turning around.

“Where are we?” Daryl asks, looking around to try and find anything worth coming to this specific part of the forest for.

You slowly turn around, that beaming bright smile plastered in your face, with rosy cheeks framing it on either side. You are the most beautiful person he’s ever known.

“I was thinking the destination of our first kiss, if you want it to be.” You suggest shyly, somehow managing to hold Daryl’s gaze.

Your own smile draws his out, and he strides over to you, hesitating just before he gets to you, causing you to grab the collar of his vest and pull him down to your lips. Daryl is so careful with you, he always has been, but his kisses show you an entire new plain of his adoration for you. His hands meet at the small of your back, pulling you closer as you tug at his hair, your lips forming words that would make angels blush. And you should know, because when you break apart, both of you are blushing, too.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #x reader #the walking dead #twd #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon

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itwasthereaminuteago · 8 months

Text

|| Lighthouse ||

Frank Castle & Matt Murdock, ft. season 3 depressed!suicidal!Matt.

1 of ?

🌧️ 🌧️ 🌧️

The line keeps ringing out, echoing through his skull like a death knell. He's not sure if the number is even still in use, but he had to take a shot. Just before he's about to give in and hang up, there's a soft click as the call is answered.

He says nothing yet, just waits.

Finally, there's a resigned sigh on the other end.

"Red." Frank says. Thankfully the nickname he'd given him was ambiguous enough that if anyone else had picked up they wouldn't know who was calling and for whom.

"How'd you know?"

Frank wasn't quite sure how to process how he felt when he heard that voice come back at him through the line. There’s a dry lump in his throat he didn't expect that he has to swallow down before he speaks.

"That you were alive?" he replies, "You ain't the only one with friends in the church, kid."

"Can't even trust a nun to keep a secret it seems…" Matt scoffs. "So, I guess you heard…"

"About Midland Circle? Yeah, I heard."

Frank isn't sure he fully believes that Red's sai-wielding woman had truly come back in a second life with some sorta ninja-magic or whatever, but he knew enough that things hadn't ended well after that and he wasn't going to tread over the subject. He knew the guy would be hurting, and not just from having a wholeass building come down on top of him.

He more than knew how losing someone you cared about ripped away part of your soul. Hell, maybe that's why he had called in the first place.

"Don't think this city's ever gonna get rid of us." He adds. They've both had more than nine lives between them, Frank didn't dwell on the fact that he'd been hellishly lucky so far.

"So you're here, then." Matt deduces, and Frank grumbles in response, annoyed that he managed to give himself away without actually realising. He was too focused on keeping him on the line, keeping him talking at least, if not open.

"Guess so. As I said, can't keep me away."

"What is it you want, Frank?" Matt snaps, the devil's edge suddenly ringing clear in his tone.

Frank clicks his tongue. "Look, I know you don't just shake off something like that so easy, and another thing I know s'that you need people around you afterwards, good people."

"Are you good people, Frank?"

He can't help the scoffing sound he makes at that. "Don't do that. You know who I mean. Don't push those friends of yours away when ya really need em."

There's a frustrated sigh. "When I care about people, they get hurt. It's best for everyone if I stay away."

"Yeah, that's what I reckoned too but we both know that ain't true, Red, don't we?"

Silence. That isn't good. Maybe he's pushed too hard too soon.

Just as Frank's about to bare more of himself than he's ever shared with anyone since his family had-

"I wonder what the point is anymore. Every time I've tried to help clean this place up it just spits back in my face." There's a beat before Matt continues. "Maybe… maybe it's just time I stop trying."

It worries Frank that there’s something different about the tone of his voice, it’s void of… something. The kid sounds defeated, empty. This was all balancing on the knife's edge. Frank knew Matt was at a place where he could go either way, easily give him a 'fuck you', hang up, and probably end up dead in a dumpster somewhere, or he could use Frank, take his 'friendly' ear if he wanted it.

“It’s a purpose, keeps you goin’ y’know? You need that. Fuck, god knows I do."

"Made your peace with Him, huh?" Matt jabs bitterly, but at least he's still talking.

"Yeah, maybe… I was thinkin' about goin' to church y'know, when there wasn't anywhere else I wanted to turn. Sometimes goin' to the places you'd think you'd never go can give ya some perspective…"

It's an invitation of sorts. Well, as much as Frank feels comfortable offering without saying "hey, d'ya wanna meet up for a beer and cry it out?"

"It's a free country, noone could stop you." Comes the response, the acceptance. Frank takes it.

"Remind me. Clinton, is it?" He knows it is. He's already on his way.

Another weary sigh. "Yeah."

"A'right." Frank says, "See you soon."

#fratt #fratt fic #matt murdock angst #frank castle angst

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streamafterlaughter · 1 year

Text

Fundamental Differing

Chapter X: It’s All Hate And Money

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | chapter ix

summary: an idea is proposed by your label that you’re not sure you want to take part in, especially given the circumstances.

tags: hurt/no comfort but barely, angst, fake dating, slow burn, idiots in love, mutual pining, mutual heartbreak, these two are so stupid sometimes it hurts

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long and it’s still not very long, but it DID inspire me to keep going! also yeah, ofc i brought the angst back. bc that was the whole plot. just stupid ppl that cannot communicate right now bc they r afraid!!! also if any of my links are broken pls let me know, im trying to fix them but they decide to work half the time?? Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

July 1986

The breeze is refreshing, despite it blowing your hair into your face. Eddie sits next to you, hands behind his head as he lay in the sun. He’s showing off his tattoos, including the one he’d gotten from you last month, your initials in your handwriting scratched neatly above his hip. In front of you, Robin and Steve splash each other in the lake, both of them shrieking and laughing as the cool water hits their faces. Your heart is full, spending the weekend at Steve’s parents’ unused lake house with your closest friends. Nancy and Jonathan arrive tomorrow, and the five of you have plans to roast marshmallows and sing songs like in all those cheesy horror movies. You could do this every day for the rest of your life, and be perfectly happy. You know Eddie doesn’t feel that way, he gets restless in places so still, and you have this deep, irrational fear that his urge to keep moving will end up being your downfall. But right now, that’s a non-problem. You return to your book, The Harlequin’s Son, as Eddie cranks the boombox up another few notches to blast Beach Boys Surfin USA.

—

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie! Is Sweetheart about Y/n?” “Was Pretty Boy written about you?” “How long have you and Y/n been together?” “Eddie, where’s Y/n?” The questions are hurled at him by fans and journalists alike as he enters the venue, cameras flashing in his face as Steve tries to shield him.

“We have no comment at this time, thank you! Bye!” Steve shoos the mob as well as he can manage, holding his hand out in front of photographers. Eddie keeps his head down, saying nothing as the door swings open for him and his band.

“Hey, they’ll let it go, it’s just fresh right now.” Steve reassured him, a comforting hand landing on his shoulder.

“It’s not them I’m worried about.” He looks around, every backstage of every venue looks the same to him, but you’re in the wings, lugging your guitar and amp to the stage as crew members set up pedal boards and wires. You look up then, and offer Eddie the smallest of smiles that he returns with a shy wave.

“I’m sure Y/n is fine, too.”

“You haven’t talked to them?”

“I’ve been busy with your temperamental ass!” Steve jokes, nudging him. “Besides, they’re a lot stronger than you think.”

“Hey. I know that. You think I don’t know that? We were together for like, four years. That isn’t my point.” It’s his turn to be defensive. He’s never doubted your strength, it’s your temper he’s concerned with. You’re not one to shy away from chewing someone out for a wrong assumption.

He looks from Steve back to you, watching as you chat with a crew member about something. You’re in plain jeans and a tight black t-shirt, your hair tied on top of your head haphazardly.

He feels a second nudge. “Stare more, would ya?” Robin’s appeared on Eddie’s other side.

“Who’s staring? I’m not staring.”

“And I’m not a lesbian. Try to blink, you’ll look less obvious.” Her smirk makes his eye twitch. “Or, y’know. You could just go say hi. Like friends do.”

“Seriously? You’re giving me shit about this too?” Eddie groans, craning his neck to the ceiling in irritation.

“Of course I am! If you guys are gonna do this dance the whole time we’re touring, I'm gonna get my jokes in!” This causes Steve to snicker.

“Listen, I’m only gonna say this once. Y/n and I are adults. You two are being so immature about this. There is absolutely nothing else between us, okay? Nothing.” Steve and Robin exchange a look, and begin to giggle again. “Cut it out!” Eddie whines, then startles when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns around to find you, sparkly eyed with a tight smile on your lips.

“We need to talk.”

—

Your POV

You don’t mention what you’d heard from Eddie’s lips, but you feel your heart sting a little. Nothing else between us? Bullshit. But now isn’t the time to call him out on it.

“What’s up?” Eddie leans against the doorframe of the dressing room, arms crossed casually.

“I just got a call from my label. They, uh, saw the magazine article.” You keep your voice low, not wanting to alert your gaggle of friends hanging out inside the dressing room. “They want us to play into it.”

“Play into it?” Eddie quirks an eyebrow teasingly. You’re sure he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he wants to hear you say it.

You groan. “They want us to be seen together more, out in public. Hold hands and shit.”

“They want us to date for publicity?”

You shrug. “Pretty much.”

“Do you want that?” He sounds sincere, even concerned.

“I don’t know if I have that choice.”

Eddie straightens his posture. “You always have a choice. It’s your life, regardless of what your label wants you to do.”

You sigh. He means well, you know that, but it would be so much more added stress to fight with executives while on tour. “Well, what do you think?”

“You know I’m always down to play tricks on the public,” he laughs, “and if you don’t mind being around me all the time, I’ll definitely do it.” You can’t get a read on him. If he doesn’t have feelings for you, why would he want to pretend?

“Okay. Then let’s play some tricks, yeah?” You offer your hand, and he stares. “You’re supposed to shake it.”

He blinks his stare away, and grasps your right hand in his. “Let’s do it.” He nods, and you can’t help but smile.

—

Your anxiety is skyrocketing tonight. With the added weight of this dating scheme, you barely have the mental capacity to make it through soundcheck.

“Are you okay?” Robin approaches you when you fumble the chords to Pretty Boy again, wincing as you sing the lyrics you’d written so many years ago.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Steve.” You’re whispering, even though you really don’t care if your bandmates find out. But Steve will try to protect you, probably going as far as making a scene in front of the label execs if he deemed necessary, and that was way too much to deal with right now.

“Consider my lips locked.” Robin makes a point of zipping her lips, locking them, and tossing the imaginary key behind her shoulder. You fill her in on your plan, not mentioning your nerves or feelings the entire time.

“And you think this is a good idea?” She asks when you’ve finished your rant. She’s not saying it to bite, she genuinely seems worried for you.

You shrug. “Probably not, but DDA is still new, we could get kicked off the label if we object to them this early. And they talked to CC’s agent already, so we pretty much have to do it.”

“But, what if you get the feelies again? Or worse, what if you don’t get the feelies, and now you’re lying to the world and to yourself?”

“First of all, feelies, Robin? Are we twelve? And secondly, I know. I'm screwed either way. Eddie already said he didn’t have feelings for me, so it’s not like-“

Robin interrupts you, waving her hand frantically. “When did he say that?”

“I overheard him talking to you and Steve earlier. ‘There is nothing else between us. Nothing.’.” You mimic Eddie’s gruff voice as you quote him, warning a chuckle from your bassist.

“You know that’s like, total bullshit, right?”

“No, I don’t! I can’t figure him out anymore, and frankly I don’t see why I have to.”

Robin pinches between her eyes like a disappointed mother. “You don’t. But you should figure your own shit out. Might be healing.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. This could totally be my undoing, I am very aware. But this could also be the push I need to make a decision. Either I’m over him, or I’m not.”

Robin pats your shoulder lovingly. “Okay, babes. Whatever you want. But maybe stop thinking about it until after we rock the shit out of this place, okay?”

You nod, finding the first chord again, and playing it perfectly. “Right. Let’s do this shit.”

—

Eddie’s POV

He taps his foot along anxiously with the house music, currently Blind Melon’s Tones of Home. His pen bounces up and down frantically in his hand, tapping against his frayed leather bound journal. A melody has been stuck in his head all day, but he can’t bring the words to match it. He’s about to throw in the towel when he feels another presence in the room.

He glances up, and his eyes meet with yours in the mirror. He whips his head around, startled by your stealth. “Hey, sw- hey, you.” He chuckles, feeling his cheeks heat up at the slip up. “Sorry, practicing.”

You shake your head, a small smile on your lips. “Hey. I wanted to be the one to tell you, there’s a lot of press here tonight. I heard Rolling Stone might try talking to you.” Your voice shakes slightly as you deliver the information.

Eddie is far too used to the overwhelming amount of public attention that comes with being a successful musician. It’s something he can’t stand, and you know that well. Nosy reporters were a huge reason he didn’t like when you would go on tour with him when the two of you actually were together. He was insistent on you not being seen with him, because he didn’t want them twisting your image. It was a selfish thing, Eddie realizes now. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but Eddie didn’t want to share you with the world. You were his to protect, and only his to be in love with.

But the world is falling in love with you now, for something you had created without him, and he feels all the pride for you in the world. Every day he wishes he’d been more supportive. Maybe this is his second chance?

“Thank you for the warning.” Eddie answers after a beat too long. You nod your head once, and pivot to leave the room when Eddie hears himself call, “Wait!” You turn to him again, waiting for him to continue. “You, uh, you think you could help me with something?” Eddie’s shy again, suddenly, like he’s back in high school asking you to go to prom with him. And he wasn’t even shy when he asked you to prom.

“Sure, what is it?” You walk deeper into the room, and Eddie moves aside to make room at the small vanity mirror. He slides his open journal toward you, where the page is littered in words crossed out, rewritten, and crossed out again. He snatches his guitar from where it leans against the wall, throwing it over his lap in a swift motion, despite the tight space.

“I have had this thing, this melody stuck in my head all day, and I either need to know if I came up with it, or if I’m remembering it from somewhere.”

He finds the first notes, fingering the strings expertly to a twinkling melody.

—

Your POV

You are really trying to focus on the song he’s playing. It does sound familiar to you, but you can only hear it like this, unfinished and on the fly. You squeeze your eyes shut in concentration, really focusing on the way the song flows together, trying to put words to it that escape you.

Until you figure it out. Your eyes fly open, wide as the memory comes back to you with full force. “Oh my god.” You throw a hand over your mouth.

Eddie stops suddenly, and looks back to you in the mirror. “Shit, is this someone else’s song? I thought I had something really fuckin’ good here!”

“No, no. Well, yes and no.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at your confusing response. “It, uh. That’s the song we wrote together. Like, right after graduation, when we went to Steve’s lake house. You played it on that really gross acoustic guitar that was in the garage, the one we found when we were—“ You don’t finish the sentence, knowing the raunchy turn the story takes. “Anyway, we started fuckin’ around with it, ‘member? And you came up with that—“ you point lazily to his guitar still in his lap, “but we never put words to it, we kinda just forgot. That is insane.”

—

Eddie’s POV

The memory washes over him, like a tidal wave pulling him under. You’d had the guitar in your lap, strumming lazy chords as you tuned the old, barely usable guitar that had belonged to Steve’s mother in another life. He remembers how hot that day had been, a record breaking heatwave baking the entirety of the midwest. Your hair was piled high on your head to keep it off your sticky skin, glimmering with perspiration. You wore only a bikini top and shorts, feet bare and dirty with the mud of the backyard. He’d stolen the guitar from you, plucking the same chords he’d just been playing, You’d started humming, then eventually singing, to his music, a soft smile on your face as your eyes closed, focusing on the way the two sounded together. He remembers everything else about that night, too, from the clumsy sex in the shed to the bonfire surrounded by his favorite people.

He finally turns around, his head purposefully craned up to avoid being eye level with your chest. The space between you two is small, and he feels his heart rate quicken. “Oh, shit.” Is all he says, being rendered speechless by the discovery.

“No, I mean, it’s okay! It’s such a pretty tune it’d be a shame if one of us didn’t use it. You should!” He can’t help but hear the slight disappointment in your voice, like you feel something was taken from you, by him. The idea comes almost as quickly as the memory had. “What if we just, put the song out?”

You place a hand on your hip. “What, like as a duet?”

Eddie nods, feeling the hope take hold in his chest. “Yeah! Yeah, we could write it, record it when we stop in New York maybe, or even after the tour if you want. And the suits would eat it up, too. Especially with this whole thing we got goin’ on,” He gestures to the space between your bodies.

“Oh. So this would be like, a money grab for you?” The hurt is clear in your wavering voice, and Eddie’s smile is wiped from his face.

“No, of course not.”

“No, right, but it’s a nice little extra. Have your cake and eat it too, right?” Wrong. So wrong, but what is Eddie supposed to do? Now is not the time to be confessing that he’s still completely enamored with you, head over heels in love. It’s so unfair to you, to both of you, to put that out there right this second.

“I mean, if you wanna look at it like that, yeah. The extra money would be nice. But it would also be cool just to work with you again. For real this time, as friends.” He’s praying it’s a good enough save.

You shrug. “We can try, but I’m not confident in our ability to work together.” There’s a bite to your words, and Eddie winces. “But I gotta go, we’re on in an hour.” You turn, and leave the room with an extra sense of urgency.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie puts his guitar down, and throws his head into his hands.

—

Your POV

You angrily wipe the tear that’s escaped from your tear duct, annoyed with your own sensitivity. You’re absolutely overreacting, but the pain in your throat threatens to suffocate you if you don’t immediately do something about it.

And so, with nothing else running through your mind besides Eddie, the memories of him contrasting deeply with who he’s become, you stomp past your bandmates as they put the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, you slam the bathroom door behind you. You’d swiped the scissors from Harley months ago, and keep them in your toiletries bag for things like this. You grab a fistful of your hair and chop, not stopping to measure the length. You repeat the ritual on the other side, and again across the front of your face. When you’re finished, your hair looks like you lost a bet, your eyes are puffy from crying, and a string of snot has fallen down your face. You wipe it with your sleeve, and quickly change into the outfit hanging up on the towel rack: black sheer tights and a baby pink lingerie nightgown you’d thrifted in Montreal. You throw your leather jacket over it, do your makeup haphazardly as you hold the rest of your tears in, and apply an excessive amount of deodorant. You step out of the bathroom, and are immediately met with the horrified looks of your friends.

“What did you do?!” Sylvie throws their hands over their mouth in shock, and Lilith’s jaw unhinges as she gasps.

You shrug. “Needed a change. Now let’s rock the shit out of this place, huh?”

Your bandmates move to leave the room, not about to engage with your suddenly erratic behavior. You’re grateful for their silence, knowing you probably look ridiculous. This will give the press something else to talk about.

The noise of the crowd grows louder as you approach the wing. “Alright guys, go out there and-“ Steve cuts himself off as his eyes scan over you. “What the hell happened?”

Robin is quick to speak. “They’re fine. Don’t worry about this right now.”

“Right, but there are so many cameras out there, and I-“

“Steve!” Robin interrupts, shaking her head. “Not. Right. Now.”

Steve surrenders, lips tight. “Okay. Right. Go kick some ass!” He hugs each of your bandmates before they go on stage. When he gets to you, he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, and pulls back when he discovers you’re shaking. “Are you alright?”

“Later.” You say shortly. More words about the subject will make you cry again. “I promise.”

“Okay. I love you. Do your thing.” He brings you into his hug, and you relish in your best friend’s warmth for a few seconds too long. The crowd is losing their minds.

“Okay, I gotta go.” And he lets you go. You walk onstage, and are blinded by the stage lights. The crowd never falters, even after seeing your new abomination of a haircut that Harley will surely kill you for later. Cameras flash from all corners of the room while fans whoop and holler for your band.

“What the fuck is up, Portland?!” You scream into the mic, and the answer is thousands of screams in your direction. “I just cut my hair in the bathroom, let’s fuckin’ party!” Lilith clicks her sticks together to count you off, and you launch into the first song of your set.

—

chapter xi

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