Tumgik
#self important fic hcs
rivalmelty · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
they are fukuzawa’s boys, adopted twins, and menaces to the yokohama police
(pls do not tag as beast)
279 notes · View notes
sleeplesssmoll · 5 months
Text
Reverse 1999 HCs: The Kitchen
I mentioned these in passing, but I finally added them in post with more detail. Feel free to add your HCs to the buffet! Word count is 960ish so you know what you're getting into if you continue down this path of madness.
Tumblr media
Apple tends to stay out of the kitchen unless he's looking for wine. He doesn't want to be mistaken for a tasty snack.
Regulus is banned from the kitchen but barges in anyway as the "official taste tester". She also steals from people's plates if they're left unguarded, unless it's Sotheby's. She is an exception. Vertin gets the worst of it where Regulus might lean over her shoulder and chomp down on her spoonful of food. This is the tax for sharing her premium snacks with Vertin.
As for the snack sharing, one time Regulus caught Vertin eating uncooked noodles with the seasoning packet sprinkled on top like chips as a snack. Ever since then, she gave Vertin free access to the stash of snacks in her room. There's always potato chips and Dr. Papper available to her friend.
Vertin stills occasionally eats noodles like chips because Madam Z used to do it when they were traveling together. When Smoltin caught her red-handed, Madam Z advised her not to be like her and to eat her celery sticks instead. They both knew that wasn't going to happen.
Sotheby is allowed use the kitchen with supervision. There needs to be someone there to give their opinion on her creative choices (stop her from accidentally poisoning someone).
Druvis is the head chef and Sonetto is her apprentice that does everything by the book due to her upbringing in the Foundation. For example, if they don't have the right ingredients, Sonetto believes they can't make the dish anymore. However, Druvis will teach her how to substitute things and improvise.
Sonetto is a great cook, but she operates like a robot that needs to be updated with new ideas from a programmer. All the knowledge is there, but she struggle to make her own conclusions. (This is something we see her struggle with in game but I applied it to cooking lol)
The Horror Trio have no interest in cooking, only eating. Although, Jessica and her Critter friends harvest things from the garden so Druvis can supervise/mentor in the kitchen.
Vertin can't cook per say, but she can throw together very basic meals a child could do (eggs, bacon, toast, grilled cheese, simple stuff). However, her specialty is eggs. She can cook an egg in every way possible thanks to Madam Z. The scientist told her if she learns to cook anything, let it be an egg. They're easy to cook, versatile, and a good source of protein. This is an HC but I can hear her explaining egg supremacy to Vertin. Fun fact: Eggs are a staple food in China and many Asian countries. Eat an egg for Madam Z everyone.
Vertin's also handy with a knife since it's all about technique and she's good with her hands. Before her crew, she probably ate a lot of sandwiches, Foundation MREs, and instant food (with eggs on the side).
However, one day Druvis witnessed hot bacon grease pitch onto Vertin's arm. Vertin flinched at first but continued flipping her bacon, saying, "It happens sometimes." Druvis damn near threw Vertin in the sink in her rush to run cold water over it. They didn't notice how serious Vertin's disregard for injuries were due to the lack of scars and reactions from her. Vertin doesn’t understand since it'll go away with a healing potion. This breaks Druvis's heart because even if it's healed, Vertin's putting herself through unnecessary pain since she's used to getting hurt.
That was the last time Vertin was allowed to touch a frying pan (rip her beloved eggs as collateral), but they still let her use the knife since she's adept with it. Also Vertin wants to help them because it's a way for her to spend more time with them. They couldn't chase her away after she admitted that.
There is another advantage to letting the Timekeeper help sometimes; Vertin's the only one who doesn't cry rivers when she cuts an onion. Sonetto and Sotheby are a mess when they try. Pupnetto has a sensitive nose and Sotheby is baby. Druvis keeps her deadpan face but tears will prick at her eyes.
Vertin didn't always eat her veggies as a kid and Madam Z wasn't sure how to make her eat them. It's actually Tooth Fairy who found a way to make fruits and veggies fun. Vertin now does the same for her Suitcase Family.
Imagine an elegant, celebratory dinner set up by Druvis, Sonetto, and Sotheby after a particularly tough mission. What did Vertin contribute with her knife? Sandwiches? Salads? Nope. It's this:
Tumblr media
Fruits and veggies decorated as little critters! It's how Tooth Fairy advised Madam Z to prepare them so Smoltin would eat them. As a kid she loved it. Vertin is creative so there are many variations (she's the opposite of Sonetto who's highly skilled but lacks creativity).
They're a hit with her crew too. Even Blonney, who normally acts like a moody teenager when it comes to her true feelings, finds them adorable. After seeing the way Jessica's eyes lit up from the little display, she was inspired to try and learn too. In secret, of course.
Horropedia said they were neat, but listed a terrifying bunch of ideas for Vertin's next fruit/veggie display: monsters, eyeball, tentacles, severed fingers, a dipping sauce that looks like slime or blood...
Bonus:
Regulus: Vertin! What are you doing?
Vertin: I'm making cheese toasties (grilled cheese). Don't worry, there's no way I can burn myself.
Regulus: You're dealing with hot melted cheese. On a scale of 1 to 10, how angry do you think Sonetto and Druvis would be if I called them right now?
Vertin: ...Would you like one too?
Regulus: Cut diagonally, no crust. Thanks ❤️
121 notes · View notes
cosmicallyavg · 1 year
Text
me wanting to always write the doctor to be asexual vs me wanting to write thasmin in a non-asexual way vs me trying to combine the two constantly vs me coming up with the same story/dialogue/scenes every time because of that FIGHT
9 notes · View notes
Note
Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!
I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3
Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader
summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 
a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao
warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13
wc: 3.5k ish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.
Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 
Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 
Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 
It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 
"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 
"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."
Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 
"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 
"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"
"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 
"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."
"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."
"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 
"I could do this all day, princesa. " 
You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 
~~~
You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 
You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 
He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 
You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 
That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 
You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.
"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 
"You okay?" 
He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 
You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."
He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."
"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."
~~~
As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 
Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 
Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 
It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 
You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.
You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.
You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 
It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 
"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 
You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 
"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 
He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 
"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."
Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 
"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"
"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 
"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 
"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."
The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 
And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 
Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 
~~~
He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.
You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.
He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 
He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 
You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 
"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 
You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 
You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 
"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 
He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 
He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 
"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 
Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."
The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 
You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 
~~~
It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 
He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 
Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 
He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 
When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 
So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 
He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 
"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 
You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 
"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 
Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 
"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 
"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 
"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 
You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 
He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 
You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 
"Do you want to?" 
You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 
"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 
You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 
"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 
Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 
You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 
"Fuck, Miguel." 
"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 
You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 
"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 
"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."
His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 
" M-Miguel …"
He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 
" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 
You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 
"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."
"...fuuck you."
" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."
"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.
"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."
" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 
"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 
"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 
He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 
You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 
"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."
You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 
You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 
He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 
Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 
"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 
"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 
"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."
All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 
"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 
_
_
_
12K notes · View notes
sttoru · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐓.” — ISABEL LAROSA.
𝓲. a collection of fictional works about gojo satoru as reader’s older boyfriend (8-14 year age gap). keep in mind that the reader is and will always be portrayed as an adult & university student — being minimum 20 years of age.
𝓲𝓲. the works are divided into both sfw and nsfw categories. please read the tags properly before you read each piece listed down below.
𝓲𝓲𝓲. requests for this series are closed for now. there will be an announcement made when the requests for this series are open again. i also have no deadline to finish any of the fics stated down below — this is a continuous and incomplete series for as long as i say it is.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
general content warning: age gap & size difference. if you’re uncomfortable with these themes, please scroll or click away.
\\ in his office — nsfw
your boyfriend shows you just how much he adores you in his office.
\\ ‘natural attraction of attention’ — sfw.
your boyfriend comes to pick you up from uni. little did you know that his good looks would attract much unwanted attention from your classmates; cw. jealousy.
\\ ‘caught in the act’ — nsfw
your boyfriend catches you masturbating while he was away.
\\ ‘maturity’ — sfw.
your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
\\ ‘first - and definitely not last - good impression’ — (n)sfw.
your boyfriend wants to introduce you to his friends and co-workers. you were hesitant at first, due to the insecurities you have about your age difference. luckily, satoru knew just how to calm you down. cw. to be added.
\\ ‘bragging and its consequences’ — sfw + nsfw.
your boyfriend is to be bragged about. especially when he’s got the good looks, money and personality. satoru catches you in the act one day as you talk about him to your friends. cw. to be added.
\\ ‘birthday remembrance’ — sfw + nsfw.
your boyfriend welcomes you home after a stressful day at university. whilst spending the day with him, you feel like you had forgotten something important. and satoru knew just the way to remind you of it. cw. to be added
\\ ‘spoiled princess’ — nsfw.
you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.
\\ ‘a drug’ — n(sfw)
your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.
more to be added . . .
Tumblr media
OTHERS.
texting with him (hcs)
texts with him (smau)
cuddle weather (drabble)
wearing his hoodie (nsfw)
first time at his house
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍 © 2023. do not steal, copy or translate my works in any way or form. do not use my self-made banners and dividers.
1K notes · View notes
slutforln4 · 10 months
Text
libertine — joel miller.
Tumblr media
synopsis. you've been having sexual fantasies about the substitute professor at your college. when the opportunity to get a better mark on a shitty essay you wrote arises, you take it. quite literally take it.
pairing. professor!joel x student!reader/fem!reader
warnings. smut, a smidge of fluff at the end, masturbation in a public bathroom, joel's got a southern accent that i tried to make obvious in the fic (if it's crappy, 'm sorry), oral (m receiving), unprotected piv, inexperienced and virgin reader, age gap (reader is in their early 20s and joel's in his late 40s), dom/sub dynamics praise kink, dirty talk. idk what else there is...
goes without saying but this is 18+, MDNI. i'm not responsible for what typa media you consume, but beware for your own good.
word count. 2.6k
author's note. i haven't written smut before so here's my shot at the self-indulgent professor!joel hc that i have... hope you enjoy ❤️ part two in the makings if this does well!!
Classic literature didn't come easy to you, but fucking your professor did.
It started off as every normal day at college did— you flow through your entire schedule, some free time here and there, during which you manage to take a nap or catch up on missing assignments, and at the end of almost every day, you were met with the class you hated, but also loved, the most… Classic literature.
The class itself is fairly easy. All you had to do was read some novels, write essays based on topics from said novels and also write a thorough analysis of it. Easy stuff. But you struggled with the essay writing, it just wasn't your thing.
However, you can't say that you didn't enjoy the class. The most interesting part of it being that substitute professor, Mr. Miller, that just transferred in. Him and that Texan accent of his, those deep, brown eyes, that salt-and-pepper hair trailing down his jaw, those luscious thighs and whatever's hiding behind the zipper of his jeans… You can't stop thinking about it.
It’s been occupying your mind for however long he's been working at your college, and you can't help but have those thoughts when it comes to him. From the way he looks, down to the way he talks about love, he’s attractive inside and out. The way he talks about women, though, was the thing that caught your attention the most. He speaks so highly of them that it almost seems like he worships them, which makes you want to fuck him all the more.
The day you decided to put your mind to rest and have your body do the work, Mr. Miller had put up another assignment.
You dreadfully open up your email at the beginning of class, and groan when the body of it reads “Essay about the importance of expressing love in current youth based on your analysis of Romeo and Juliet due next week Thursday, midnight.”
Turning off your phone, you assert your attention back to your professor. He stood there, in his suit and all, looking more delicious than ever as he reminded your class to check their emails. The stern tone in his voice made your insides flutter, and the way he held onto his waist… God, you can't help but rub your thighs together to hide the throbbing between your legs, already feeling the wetness in your panties.
“Alright, pull out ya laptops and open up that website I told y’all about,” Mr. Miller says, and you’re the first one to obey his order. He gives you a look and when your eyes lock with his, he smiles at you. “As I already mentioned in the emails, we’ll be readin’ and analysin’ Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.”
The more he spoke, the less you could pay attention. Your eyes travelled all over his face, his chest, down to his crotch. Even without a hard-on, there was an imprint in his dress pants. Mr. Miller was the type to speak with his hands, resulting in you ogling at the way his fingers move in the air.
Mr. Miller begins talking about how love is portrayed in the tragedy, his tone changing with each point he makes. You stare at his lips, silently wishing they were on your body, somewhere. Anywhere would be fine as long as all his attention was on you. On all the parts that long for his touch.
You try your best to focus on what he’s saying, writing down what you need to remember. Your thighs are clenching together again when Mr.Miller scratches the back of his head, his bicep visible through the sleeve of his jacket. That’s about as much as you can take.
You hesitantly get up from your seat, mumbling a quiet “excuse me” as you walk out through the doors. It must've looked weird, since you ran out the door in such a rush, but you didn't care. Your main concern was finding a bathroom before all the thoughts about your professor fucking you into oblivion could make you cum on the spot.
You hurry past all the staff that are scattered across the halls and barge into the women’s bathroom. It's quiet and you’re sure you're alone, but you still check. “Hello?” No response. You hurry yourself into a stall and lock the door.
You don't even lift the toilet seat when you sit down on it, your skirt and panties on the floor. You spread your legs and put your fingers into a V shape, spreading your lips open. Using your other hand, you gather some of the arousal that’s been leaking out of you for the past twenty minutes and use it to coat your clit as your finger slowly rubs circles on it.
"That’s it,” you can almost hear Mr. Miller talking in your ear. “That’s my girl.”
“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, feeling yourself getting more horny with the flood of thoughts that won't stop. Your finger rubs circles on your clit, increasing the pressure from time to time. Subconsciously, your hand unbuttons the shirt you’re wearing to reveal your bare chest and begins twirling your hard nipple. You imagine it's his hands, that he’s the one pleasuring you. Your finger’s now working at a pace you can't keep up with, quietly moaning out your professors last name when you use the hand that was rubbing your clit to finger yourself.
One finger in and you’re already gasping at the image on the back of your eyelids. You’re imagining it's his fingers in you, his cock in his other hand as he jerks himself off. You put a second finger in and start thrusting it in and out, when the image changes to his hips clashing into yours as his dick hits spots your fingers could only dream of. Your hips jolt against your fingers at the image of his veiny cock so vividly throbbing in your imagination.
You bring your other hand down to your clit, rubbing the throbbing nub once again. “Fuck,” you whimper as you feel your climax nearing. Your fingers curl inside you, and you’re about to let go.
“Attagirl,” the voice in the back of your head says and that’s the last push for you to cum all over your own fingers, your juices leaking out onto the toilet seat. You continue rubbing your clit until your climax wears off.
When you’re back in the classroom, everyone's already left, only Mr. Miller’s sat at his desk, typing away. His eyes look up at you when you enter through the door. “Oh, hey. I kept your stuff safe, since ya left in such a rush.” A comforting smile decorates his face. He’s so considerate it makes your clit throb again.
“Uh, thank you, sir.” You mumble shyly, packing your stuff into your bag and getting ready to leave. Mr. Miller’s eyes are on you when you turn back towards him.
He clears his throat. “I also wanted to speak to ya ‘bout somethin’.”
“Oh,” you nod. “Alright, what is it?”
“Listen, sweetheart. Y’know the last essay I assigned you to write?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question. You bite your bottom lip as you think back on what the last assignment was. When you remember, you nod. “Alright, well… You didn't do too good on it.”
“I know,” you laugh awkwardly, trying to hide the shame you feel. “It wasn't my finest work.”
“Yeah.” He laughs with you in an attempt to ease the situation. “But, uh. You can rewrite it and I’ll raise your mark. Whaddya say?”
You think it over for a moment, before shaking your head. “I think I could…” You’re not sure where this confidence is coming from, but you’re suddenly approaching him. “Get my mark up another way…” Your eyes glance down at his crotch and you bite your lip. When Mr. Miller realises what you’re insinuating, he shakes his head, but his eyes say different.
“Honey, it goes against teacher-student policy, you know that.” He reminds you, but you’re already on your knees in front of him and under his desk, batting your long eyelashes at him to get your way. His bulge grows right in front of your face and you don't think anymore, you just do. Your fingers are unclasping his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling them down. “Sweetheart-” he gets cut off by his dick springing up after you pull his boxers down, precum already leaking out of it. “Fuck.”
You look at him, not sure of what to do. You’ve never sucked a dick before, and the one in front of you would surely end up somehow fucking up your throat. You contemplate just sitting down on it, riding it like you did to your pillow when you woke up from a wet dream about him. That is, until he speaks. “You gonna stare at it or suck it like you wanted to?”
The tone in his voice changed from formal and sweet to deep and dominant, and you’re wet again from just the sound of it. “I’ve never, uh… done this before.”
Mr. Miller nods his head towards you. “Put your lips on the tip,” you do as told, your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock. “Just like that,” he says, his voice wavering. “Now put it in your mouth,” you hesitate to do so, instead wrapping your fingers around the base of his large cock. “Don't be shy, you want your mark up, don't ya?”
You nod, slowly opening your mouth to put more of his cock in. When it hits the back of your throat, you gag a bit. “Breathe through your nose, babygirl.” You do as told and the gagging goes away. “Now, slowly bob your head up and down. Yeah, just- just like that, fuck.” You're bobbing your head up and down on his dick, your fingers working at the base of it. His hips buckle and his dick thrusts deeper in your throat. A moan rumbles in your throat and vibrates on Mr. Miller’s dick, and he has to refrain himself from shoving his whole dick down your throat.
“Fuck, just like that,” he moans. “Good girl.” The praise makes you that much more wet, and you moan against his dick again.
Suddenly, the door swings open and Mr. Miller sits up, looking at whoever entered his classroom. Your mouth doesn't leave his cock, you simply thrust it in your mouth harder, using your tongue to caress his shaft. “Good evening,” he greets the janitor who came in to clean the classroom. “I, uh, I still got some,” Mr. Miller balls his fingers into a fist as he holds back a moan, trying his best to focus on the conversation with your mouth still sucking him off. “I’m still workin’, gimme thirty more minutes.”
The door closes behind the janitor and Mr. Miller leans back against his chair, his eyes half-lidded and looking down at you. He feels his orgasm nearing when you begin pumping the base of his cock again, along with thrusting his dick into your mouth. “I’ll be cummin’ in your mouth if you don't pull away right now, sweetheart.”
Your mouth leaves his cock, but your fingers still jerk him off. A deep moan leaves his lips as a string of hot cum shoots out in loads onto your clothed chest and neck. You’re still pumping his dick when he motions for you to get up. You stand up from under his desk and he’s immediately pulling you closer to himself. You're sat on his lap, dick still hard and rubbing on your belly as his lips connect with yours. He can still taste himself in your mouth and he smirks at that.
His hands are on your knees, but with each kiss, they inch closer and closer to where you need him the most. When he reaches the wet spot on your panties, he grins against your mouth. “So ready for me, hm?”
You nod, whimpering at the soft contact of his finger to your clothed clit. “Yes, Mr. Miller, please-”
“Call me Joel,” he mumbles as his fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and tug them off of you. He slowly grabs you by the waist and aligns his cock with your dripping cunt.
“Wait-” you pause kissing him when you feel the tip brushing up against your folds. “I haven't- Y’know…”
Joel smirks. “You a virgin, baby?” You nod, slowly. “I’ll take care of ya, I promise.” You feel his finger rub over your hole, gathering some of your slick to rub it on his dick.
His hands slowly lower your waist down, his cock slipping past your folds with ease and you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up. It’s everything you’ve been dreaming of. He’s so big that it feels like you’re being split open. “You okay?” He asks you with a kiss to your collarbone. You nod, your bottom lip between your teeth and hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders. “Good, ‘cause this ain't all of it yet,” he says, voice low and taunting, before lowering you all the way down. You whimper as you feel his cock brush against your cervix.
“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his lips as you adjust to the size of him. Joel just holds you there, not moving you until you’re ready. His fingers find your throbbing clit and start rubbing it, your lips still connected. “Mmh,” you moan, your hips jolting towards his fingers and moving his dick deeper inside of you.
You begin pushing yourself up and slipping back down, a string of moans leaving your lips. “Attagirl.”
You’re riding his cock, feeling each and every inch of him filling up your insides. You can feel every throb of his veins pulsing inside of you and you catch all his moans with your lips. His hands are gripping your hips, pulling you down with more force. The classroom is filled with sounds of skin clashing on skin. You’re moaning and whimpering, his cock threatening to tip you over the edge. “I’m… I-” you can't even speak.
“You what, baby?” He asks, his thumbs digging into your hips with the intensity of your thrusts. “You gonna cum for me? You gon’ be a good girl and cum all on my dick?” You can't manage to speak so you nod, tears spilling from your eyes as you feel your climax approaching.
He’s thrusting up at you, now, his climax approaching him again. You're a moaning and whimpering mess, begging him to make you cum with the broken words you’re mumbling. “Ple- Please… Fu-uck, Joel…”
“Let go for me,” he coaxes, his lips right by your ear. “I got you, pretty girl.”
With a loud moan, you’re cumming all over his dick and you feel his hot liquid fill up your insides with a couple more thrusts of his hips. Joel kisses you again. Like a starving man that hasn't eaten for days on end. He kisses you with passion, with more than just lust behind those eyes.
When you both pull away, he makes sure to clean you up. “You were so good for me, sweetheart.” He praises. “So good.”
You’re not sure what to say, so you just kiss him again. And again. And one more time. Until he’s kissing on your neck again, but he inevitably stops and leans into your ear. “I gotta get to work, baby.”
“Okay,” you say with a sigh. “Thanks for helping me with the essay,” your lips pull into a small smirk as you open the door to his classroom.
“All thanks to you.” He returns the same smile. “Couldn’t have finished it without you.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “You’re so unfunny,” and close the door behind yourself.
601 notes · View notes
abyssruler · 1 year
Note
I REALLY LOVE THAT XIAO FANFIC OF YOURSS(flowers and unplanned proposal) could you perhaps make a part 2 of it? About xiao & reader's 'married' life? :D
(from this fic) hm not necessarily a part 2 cuz i’m too lazy to do one, but here’s a few hcs!
your wedding ceremony’s a small affair consisting of you and xiao, lumine, hu tao, zhongli, paimon, your close friends (xingqiu, chongyun, xiangling, etc.), aaaand a few (re: a lot) of adepti who got curious when they heard that the conqueror of demons was getting married to a mortal.
your wedding’s probably one of the most blessed ones out there simply because of the sheer amount of adepti that attended, which means they had to give a compulsory wedding gift. they all gave various things which all ultimately served as a trinket to ward off evil and bring prosperity.
also, apparently lumine’s got a few scores to settle with some of them because she unwittingly trespassed and stole from their domains, whoops. it’s only thanks to the kind funeral consultant that everything was resolved peacefully. the wedding’s a shitshow and a half, but the important thing is that you and xiao were lawfully wedded by the end of it. the only problem you really had was if zhongli the consultant was qualified to officiate the wedding. xiao assured you multiple times that he is, trust me, there is no one more fit for it than rex—i mean, zhongli.
nothing much really changes except for the fact xiao is a little embarrassed at the revelation that your relationship was basically one sided until hu tao of all people spilled the beans to you. you do let him sleep in your bed without needing permission anymore, which you had to explain to him multiple times that since you’re married now, what’s yours is his, which means he doesn’t need to wake you up at midnight just to ask if he can lay down beside you.
lumine is, as always, the one who keeps pushing you two together and keeps taking credit for being your so called matchmaker. as a self proclaimed love guru, she’s your go-to when you need advice regarding married life, but after hearing various suggestions like pretending to drown so he can save you and falling off cliffs to experience that ‘damsel in distress and white knight feeling’, you’ve decided that lumine should be banned from making romantic advices.
it’s not too bad—being married, that is. it’s pretty much the same as when you thought xiao was just a roommate. you still do the chores together, he still cooks dinner for you, the two of you still argue on who gets to have the last piece of chocolate on a packet (he always lets you win).
except, if your home was full of flowers back then, now it’s fit to burst with the amount xiao showers you with. he’ll come home from doing whatever adepti stuff he does with arms full of different kinds of flowers. it once got to the point where a random person entered your house, thinking it was a flower shop only to be met with a very grumpy adeptus asking what business they have on his home.
suffice to say, you told him to limit the flower giving to once a week. if only so you won’t have to resort to using your bathtub as a vase for them.
2K notes · View notes
eliteseven · 2 months
Text
Soft Shadowheart x Tav Cottage-core Hc’s
These are specifically brainstorming hc’s for my fics (ft. Human/ex-noble Tav) but I feel like most of them are general enough:
*potential for spoilers, obvs
Tav has a really good relationship with Arnell and Emmeline. I think Shadowheart was already in love with her by the time they rescued her parents, but seeing Tav interacting with them makes her fall all over again. Tav is extra gentle w Emmeline and never lets her or Arnell do too much labor around the grounds. Idk this is just very important to me
Before they find the cottage, Tav scouts ahead while Shadowheart cares for her parents in the city.
Tav buys a mount just so Shadowheart’s parents can make the trip out to the cottage they want to renovate.
Tav camps outside at nights and offers the warmest (and only indoor) space to Shadowheart’s parents while they build up the rest of the cottage. Naturally, Shadowheart is incredibly endeared by this and camps out with her :) it’s just like old times for them
Shadowheart taking lazy cat naps in the sun (with her cats!) on Tav’s lap on the sunnier, warmer days.
It is only suitable that they be in close proximity to a lake for nightly “swimming lessons”.
Shadowheart LOVES PDA. She feels she has squandered so much of her life, plus Tav is a human and she only has so much time to spend with her- so yeah Shadowheart is all over that!! All the time! Stealing kisses from Tav while they work in the garden, slipping her hands into Tav’s back pocket, yanking Tav behind the barn and Tav stumbling out with kiss marks all over her face lol. (And trips to the city!! Shart is 100% on go mode anywhere)
Tav was raised a “proper lady” noble and she SQUIRMS bc she does not want to get caught absolutely devouring Shadowheart in front of her parents! Shadowheart knows this and takes the utmost joy in making Tav uncomfortable like that (affectionately)
When they get around to decorating, Shadowheart realizes she’s never had a space of her own in the cloister (aside from her tent when she travels)! I think she takes a lot of joy in self discovery. Exploring what she likes, realizing she’s so into color and vibrance after so many monotonous years. She also likes the domesticity of just…seeing her items next to Tav’s atop the dresser, or their shared garments in the wardrobe. She can’t remember the last time anywhere ever felt like home.
Tav regularly wakes up to the last remnants of her body heat being siphoned away by Shadowheart, Buttons, some of their cats, and any of the other animals they care for. Sometimes she also cannot breathe bc her gf’s hair is splayed out (and Shadowheart has looooong hair) all over her face. It brings her immeasurable joy and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Shadowheart tastes Emmeline’s apple and plum pie and it brings back strong memories of childhood, so Tav takes it upon herself to get all kinds of recipes from Emmeline. In her spare time, she tries to surprise Shadowheart with them. Sometimes they prompt memories, sometimes they taste awful and they laugh so hard they make new memories 💕
Shadowheart’s mark eases up, but once in a while it causes her flashes of pain. If it occurs at night, Tav refuses to sleep. Moonlit walks, curling up by the fire, anything to keep Shadowheart’s mind off it, depending on how much pain she’s in. But the best distraction is usually between the sheets tbh. Shar whom??
Tav regularly beefs with that squirrel. She swears it loves Shadowheart and hates her (it does).
98 notes · View notes
danikamariewrites · 7 months
Note
Could you please do a rhysand and azriel ddlg where there in a thropel and with reader and what there relationship would look like and how they would be with reader who struggles with mental health and is having a bad episode and has self image issues and is triggered by pressived abandment
I love rhysand and azriel and would love if you could one with just them I’ve seen so many with az and cass or poly bat boys but would live too see more rhys and az
Love your fics by the way and your ddlg series’s
helping you through a bad mental health episode hc
Rhyzriel x reader
A/n: thank you anon! I’ll def do another hc with these 2 and reader :)
Warnings: ddlg, mental health topics such as depression, anxiety, self image issues, and abandonment issues
Your relationship with Rhys and Az is the best thing that ever happened to you
They’re such sweet caring boyfriends in different ways
You’re spoiled by them in attention and gifts
Best of all they just want to take care of you. When they agreed to a ddlg relationship you were so happy, it felt like something inside you was already fixed
“We love you darling, and we want to do whatever makes you happy.” “But will this be something that makes the two of you happy?” You look up at them, you lower lip wobbling as you scan their faces. Azriel pulls you onto his lap, tucking your head under his chin. “It would make us very happy y/n. If we didn’t want this Rhys and I never would’ve brought it up.” That night they held you extra tight in bed making you feel extra loved.
Usually you’re a happy person
Azriel and Rhys always made sure you were happy, healthy, and comfortable
But you had your down days just like them and they were always by your side when they happened
Mental health was something you have dealt with since your teenage years
Depression, self-image issues, anxiety-it’s all been something you’ve fought in your mind
Abandonment issues were also something you dealt with. Your parents never helped when you had depressive episodes. They just left you alone to lay in your dark bedroom
It was hard but you figured out how to help yourself. You made sure to do the things that made you happy and not shut yourself in. Sometimes it was hard to get out of bed so you would sleep in. Sometimes you’d spend days in bed
It’s did make you view yourself as a burden or worthless for sitting around doing nothing. Whenever Rhys heard your thoughts he would immediately calming your fears mind to mind, “Now, none of that darling. You are not a burden. You are working through your depression in the best way you know how. You’re amazing darling, never forget that.”
When you ask for help Rhys and Az are always so proud of you for coming to them
They know it’s hard to talk about these things and they’re very gentle with you
You emerged from the bedroom late in the day. Definitely well past noon and still in your PJs
Rhys and Az know that you need to eat so they always make you breakfast since it’s your favorite
You want to be near them so the 3 of you hang out in Rhys’s office. You and Az on the couch with him reading to you while Rhys sits in his arm chair looking over paper work
Days like these where you have them both by your side make you feel instantly better
You swear their presence alone heals you
You hate when Az has to go away or when Rhys just goes to the Hewn City, especially if you’re going through a depressive episode
During one of your worse episodes Az had to go on a mission and he hated leaving you. Rhys hated sending him away too. You would get attached to Azriel during your depressive episodes and Rhys never wanted to be the bad guy but this was important
Azriel fought him on it, begging him to wait a few more days. But the message Rhys got was urgent especially since Amren was delivering it
Az left right away. Rhys didn’t realize Az left without saying goodbye to you, something he always did
When he leaves Az gives kiss you a hug and a kiss and says, “bye princess, I’ll be back before you know it.” Even if you’re asleep. Rhys would show you the memory in the morning
When you wake up you reached out for Az. He promised to stay with you since you felt your depression getting bad, but all you felt were cold empty sheets
You jolted up with a confused look on your face. Rhys entered the room, feeling when your emotions spiked. “Hi darling, how are you feeling?” “Where’s daddy, Rhysie?”
His heart broke at the look on your face. Your eyes big and glassy. “Oh” you said quietly. You pulled the blanket up over your head and laid back down, facing away from Rhys
He rushed over to the bed sitting next to you rubbing your back, “It’ll be ok darling. I’m still here and I’ll spend every second with you.” You just let out a little groan
You knew Az didn’t say goodbye either which hurt even more
You were quite for days just waiting for Az. You floated around the house like a ghost
Rhys tries everything but you’re just so quiet. All you wanted to do was stay with Rhys
The days without Az you just cling to Rhys, sitting in his lap while he works
The day before Az came home you finally spoke, “Daddy?” You mumbled. Rhys perked up from his office chair. “Yes darling?” He looked hopeful as you crossed the room to sit in his lap
“I’m sorry if I’ve been ignoring you. I just didn’t know how to deal with Azzy being gone.” Tears escaped your eyes and Rhys hugged you to his chest. “Oh sweetheart it’s ok.” He places a kiss on your head softly rocking you in his lap, “hey guess who’s almost home?” He murmurs into your hair
A gasp leaves your lips and you smile at him for the first time in days, “daddy!”
The front door opens and you jump from Rhys’s lap, rushing down the stairs and launching yourself into Azriel’s waiting arms
He lifts you off your feet and holds you tight to his chest
“Oh princess I missed you.” “I missed you too daddy.” You say through a small sob. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here and didn’t say bye. Did daddy stay with you everyday.”
You nod against him. “Rhys told me you were quiet. Let’s go upstairs, you can take a bath with me that’ll make you feel better.”
166 notes · View notes
lovelynim · 2 months
Text
Take 9, recording!
ALIEN STAGE/Actors!AU - Ivan x Till
Tumblr media
A/N: Really, really self-indulgent fic because I NEEDED to get some fluff after the damage Round 6 did to me. Also, I added a little hc that TIll is an experience actor while Ivan is still a newbie, etc, etc, you know the drill
Also, tagging @blobbirobbi, @norieoncrack and @vash-yuu because you three gave me the boost to do it this afternoon. Also tagging @tiredleekaz because i feel you'll like this (hopefully)
Summary: Round 6's recording site. Stage scene. Take... 9, sigh. Lights, camera... action!
Word count: 1305 words.
Tumblr media
“Alright, let’s do it, guys!” The director shouted and the rest of the team promptly took their places. The camera pointed towards Till and Ivan as the studio was quickly engulfed by silence.
“Here we go… ‘Cure’, stage scene, take 9. Action,” the director commanded and the first beats of the song began to play right after. The spotlight turned to Till and, so, it began.
“Allow me, to the tip of your fingers. Allow me, to the ends of your feet.”
Ivan quietly hummed the song along while the cameras tilted around the other man, capturing the crowd’s motion in the background while Till’s voice took all the room in the studio. Ivan knew the team was tired and probably beginning to feel a little frustrated after a couple of mistakes, but he couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it.
“Dissolve me in your gaze. I don’t want to let you go.”
‘Damn, he looks so cool right now’, Ivan thought as a smirk took place in his lips. The song went on and Ivan knew he had to focus. This was supposed to be a dramatic, emotional, tragic scene. He couldn’t be booping to the song they spent hours recording. Focus, Ivan, focus!
As Till continued to sing, Ivan decided it was a good time to rehearsal his lines. Maybe this would put him back in the right mood for this scene and, after all, he didn’t want to start the 10th take because he made the same mistake from 4 takes ago.
“Let me drown in you, until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time!”
Wait, was he at that part already?
Ivan opened his eyes and looked at the other guy with a slightly shocked expression. Gulping, he clenched his hands as he heard the piano keys starting to play in the background again. Time to shine, Ivan.
With heavy steps, Ivan walked towards his microphone. The camera was tilting right above him and it was a bit hard to keep a straight face, but he had to!
“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes.”
Carefully and gently, Ivan took his hands up and wrapped his fingers around the microphone. Holding it tightly, one word after the other left his lips and, as scripted, he was singing.
“May they linger on your tongue. You can break me apart.”
Narrowed eyes stared back at the camera in front of him. To the ones looking from the outside, Ivan seemed like the most confident actor in history, literally living up to his character. But on the inside, he couldn’t help but feel some nervousness stirring up. What if he sang the wrong line? What if he looked ugly on the recording? What if his voice cracked?!
No, it wasn’t time to think about those things. He managed to look at Till with the corner of his eyes and, even when he was idling, the sorrowful, tired look continued to stick to his face. So professional!
“Sick of those nights to come, to be engulfed by silence in your gaze where I’m seen. Consume me! Yes, me, oh oh!! ~”
Ivan would only be sure once they were done recording this scene, but he was almost 100% he nailed this part. He could feel his vocal chords slightly tiring, but nowhere near enough to make him stop.
And above anything else, the most important scene of this episode was coming up. The kiss.
“To this everlasting moment.”
“Face to face we dance.”
Ivan let out a small sigh as his last line was sung. Just as the words left his lips, the pages of the script started playing inside his head. ‘With a decisive move, you throw your microphone aside and walk to him’, he remembered the director explaining, detailing how it should be done.
“With our story lost in forever’s embrace!! ~”
Ivan felt literally chills running up his back when his eyes met Till’s. As a newbie actor, starring with someone as experienced as him was always an emotional rollercoaster, full of surprising moments that he would treasure forever. But not now. Now, he needed to focus.
Gently reaching for the other guy’s cheek, Ivan moved his hand to the back of Till’s head and pulled him into a kiss.
Part of himself questioned if he was supposed to enjoy recording this part over and over as much as he was doing, but knowing how annoyed the rest of the studio’s staff was at his mistakes, he would never voice such thoughts.
The instrumental played along with the flashing lights above them. Ivan only remembered the instructions that he should make the kiss last while Till would try to shove him away, but the director never said how, so there shouldn’t be much harm in improvising a little, right?
Ivan wrapped his free hand around Till’s slim torso, resting his fingers just below the other’s ribcage. Till pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away like the script told him to, but Ivan knew this wasn’t the lead to let him go, so he pulled the other man for another kiss.
However, there was something off. 
He was told that, yes, Till was going to try to break their kiss and free himself, but it shouldn’t be… this effective, Ivan thought. Deciding that it would be better to just play along, Ivan moved his hand down to Till’s neck while the other pressed a little harder against his side, hoping this would be enough to keep him still to the end of the scene.
But with barely seconds before the time for the score to pop up above their heads and show his character’s demise, Ivan noticed that Till… was laughing?
“Pfft- d-duhuhude!” TIll giggled, elbowing his arm in another attempt to free himself from his embrace. “Q-quit tihihickling, ahaha!”
“H-huh?” Ivan blinked, looking down to the little space between their bodies and taking a few seconds to realize what the other guy meant. “Wait, you mean this?”
“GyAHah, y-yes! Thahat, d-don’t dohohoh it! I’m tihihicklish there!” Till laughed, throwing his head back (and maybe trusting a little too much in Ivan’s strength to hold him in place).
A fuzzy, warm feeling spread over Ivan’s chest as he heard those words. What a wonderful discovery! How could he not notice this before?! “Ahah, sorry… I mean, I didn’t expect this or this to be enough to tickle you, Till, ~” Ivan teased, carelessly spidering his fingers against Till’s side and ribs.
Before he realized, there were them again: fooling in the middle of the set. Till laughing, desperately trying to escape his hug while the only worry inside Ivan’s mind was to find where else his senior would be ticklish.
“Ivan! C’mohohon!” Till laughed while the lights of the studio turned back on, illuminating the whole scene again as this take was already beyond salvation. “I cahahan’t breheheathe!”
“Oh? But you are-”
“Guys!” The director protested, making the duo stop in the middle of the scene with a surprised look on their faces. Right, they were recording. And with people around them. A lot of people. “Sigh, let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes, everybody.”
Despite the feeling of animosity towards them that seemed to spread across the rest of the staff, Ivan couldn’t stop himself from smiling and, much to his delight, the same seemed to go for Till.
“S-sorry, ahah, this one is my fault,” Till giggled as he got back into his own feet, rubbing his side where Ivan just tickled him. “Try to just, hmm… Hold my face?”
“Got it, I will keep that in mind,” Ivan hummed happily while walking off the stage by TIll’s side. Well, guess they couldn’t do much but wait for the next take now, right?
114 notes · View notes
vasito-de-leche · 4 months
Note
Could we have some Zima relationship headcanons :]
Tumblr media
;R1999 ZIMA - Relationship Headcanons
Tumblr media
Compilation of headcanons about Zima in a romantic relationship.
Tumblr media
ofc you can nonnie, ty for the request! Zima was the other character that got me into the game so he's very dear to me
also also, I'm not sick anymore so I have some steam to work on requests, hehe <3 still working on the sleepy fics though, don't worry yall!
Tumblr media
I haven't done a proper analysis/HCs post on Zima yet, so as usual I'll be talking a little about his character before getting into the whole relationship aspect of things!
The portrayal of Zima as a stereotypical, shy introvert feels extremely reductive to me, especially when it's all attributed to his speech pattern - the pauses, the stuttering... None of it is an indication of timidness. We have to remember that Zima's native language, like many other characters, is not english and he struggles when speaking it. That's the reason he speaks in such a way, there's a language barrier he's constantly fighting against in order to communicate with others and yet he's clearly trying.
There's an emphasis on loneliness, isolation and avoidance in his character that is impossible to ignore, which seems to add to the whole portrayal of Zima as a "shy baby". But again, this is something that comes from an important part of his life - the exile he went through. Him being socially inept is a result of a punishment, years of being alone with no one but animals to keep him company. It doesn't come from a sense of inferiority or insecurity such as Charlie, but an absolute lack of human contact.
When examining his voicelines, we also see that he's opinionated - criticizing the Tsar and the poor living conditions of the people, speaking of the beauty of nature and so on and so forth. He explicitly writes poems on any surface like trees, rocks and snow, even if he knows they'll be washed away overtime.
I understand that it's extremely easy to dismiss Zima when it comes to romance because of all of these details, his isolating ways and all, but he's a poet first and foremost.
While he may not be romantic in the more traditional sense we're used to, he's extremely insightful and takes a lot of care to appreciate the small details that often go overlooked, but that make life feel more lively and rich. In the context of relationships, given his age and his lifestyle, Zima would bring a completely different type of vibe - for comparison, most of the characters I talked about already lean towards high emotions, the fun of discovering love for the first time, etc etc...
Pavia's love is a whole rollercoaster on his own because there's always the chance of either getting hurt or having the time of your life, Forget Me Not's feels exactly like being hungover in the morning. But Zima's love is more like coming home after a long trip, knowing there's a warm meal waiting for you. It's familiar and calm.
On the subject of Zima falling in love.
Zima is used to introspection, so I genuinely believe he has a strong sense of self and a good grasp on his emotions. He quickly realizes when he's fallen for someone and he accepts it easily, despite the lack of romantic interactions in his life. This is because the object of his affections is, most likely, someone he already cherishes, and who puts the effort into maintaining a good friendship with him - so the idea of being in love with them feels natural!
I can't see Zima pursuing romantic relationships with strangers and/or those outside his close circle, not even a surface attraction beyond artistic appreciation for someone's looks. He strikes me as the type who can only fall in love with those he trusts and knows.
And even then, his behaviour wouldn't change much!
It's obvious that he lacks friends, so the very few people he does have are extremely important to him - even so, Zima does not need to constantly orbit around them and will gladly spend days (and weeks if you don't actively seek him out) without seeing them, content to catch up with them whenever their paths cross. He shares what little he has to offer with everyone, practical things and knowledge. Zima is 100% that friend who disappears for months and returns as if nothing happened.
When it comes to you, it's the same. Sure, if you ask him to stay a little longer then he'll oblige you. And if you're the chatty type or find his work interesting, then he'll put the effort into having a conversation with you despite the language barrier. But that's about it, the changes aren't noticeable no matter how much he loves you, because all of that happens when no one is looking.
If you happen to stroll around in the wilderness, getting lost in the forest and all, then you might find your name carved on trees along with many, many poems. If you don't speak or read russian, then all you'll be able to recognize is your name - the very first thing Zima taught you in his native tongue - but these are all declarations of love.
The animals are kinder to you, curious even. They follow and treat you like an old friend, as if they knew you, because everything they've heard from you comes from Zima himself. They speak about everything and anything with him, after all.
Zima lacks the initiative to confess or even consider being in a proper relationship with you - I insist, he's genuinely content with being a close friend - but he also lacks the restraint to keep his feelings to himself and thus puts them on display in the only way he knows how: as a poorly kept secret between himself and the nature that surrounds him.
Not many think of him as a romantic because of how stoic he is, but when Zima is in love, he sees you in every flower, in the snowflakes that fall and kiss his nose. You're the gentle summer breeze and the crystal clear rivers once winter ends. You're right there beside him in spirit when he sees little chicks take flight for the first time, or when all the other forest critters wake up after hibernating. Zima finds beauty in every aspect of nature, and he sees you everywhere he looks.
That said, there's no way he'll take the first step. That's entirely up to you, to pick up all these things and confront him about it - that's the only time he'll be open and direct about his feelings. Because you already know how much you mean to him!
Zima would love to teach you his native language.
This is partially me projecting because english isn't my native language either, but I do like to think that Zima's english is all self-taught. He understands when others speak english, but isn't as fluent when speaking himself. And that's why it's sooo infuriating and frustrating for him, as a creative person and poet.
Not only because it's harder to communicate with others, but because his work and poems - the most important part of himself - can't be fully understood. Therefore HE can't be fully understood. Some translations, while good, can't even come close to their original meaning. As his partner, Zima wants you to understand the full depth of his affections and thoughts.
I do think that the process of learning would also be quite organic, starting with Zima simply pointing out at things and teaching you the way they're named in russian, basic stuff he does unconsciously. If you pick up things on your own from his work and his translations, Zima will be over the moon and would ask you to repeat yourself to make sure your pronunciation is right and because he loves the way his language sounds with your accent.
But if you approach and ask him to properly teach you? He's gone, instantly overwhelmed with emotion and thoughts racing in his head, trying to organize a million different things - what would be the best way to teach you? Should he start with the alphabet? You want to learn this brand new language to understand him better, that simple gesture is a huge deal for him.
Once you have a pretty good grasp on the language, at least enough to have basic conversations with him, it will feel like Zima has gotten a little bolder - addressing you with pet names, being generally more blunt and talkative... But in fact, he's just finally able to express himself in his totality.
This also goes the other way around - Zima would love to learn your own native language, whether it's english or something else. It's yet another language he can use to express himself, so it's a win-win. And I know that it's common for us multilingual people to start confusing and mixing all the languages we speak, but I think Zima would have an easy time keeping them apart, so to speak!
On the subject of Zima and how he acts when he's in a relationship.
You two were close friends before you were lovers, so Zima doesn't feel any sort of pressure to live up to some dating standards like fancy dates, gifts or grandiose displays of affections - once again, it's all about what feels natural. You two know each other more than enough to simply fall into a comfortable routine that works out for both.
He does make the effort to drop by more often, to find a middle ground until he feels more comfortable and used to being around large groups of people. But he would also insist that you accompany for his walks in search of inspiration for his work!
When it comes to showing affection, I think Zima might be a little touchstarved - casual physical contact such as someone hugging or patting him on the back as a greeting still catch him by surprise, but affectionate gestures with those he trusts and loves is a novelty that leaves Zima starry-eyed.
He has a lot of things that he needs to slowly get used to again now that he's not exiled in the middle of the woods, but having you shower him with affection is something that he grows to like rather quickly. When you pet him, pepper his face with kisses, hold his hand when walking or hug him - it doesn't matter, Zima will always stand there, fascinated with the way you make him feel, so very warm and safe.
He would appreciate a warning before being touched, and he always makes sure to ask before initiating anything himself - it doesn't matter how many times you tell him that you're fine with this sort of contact, he's going to ask for permission anyway. Just out of politeness. Personal space is important, after all.
I think Zima would try to stick to a routine he can follow without overwhelming himself, especially if you're the type to need more attention (again, Zima will literally disappear for weeks if left to his own devices). It's more of a short list of things he needs to remember to do before the day is over, the two most important ones being greeting you in the morning and wishing you goodnight.
As for more general aspects of a relationship, I don't think there's much to say! Arguments with him rarely happen because he's patient and careful with his words, he communicates his needs and boundaries as well as he respects yours and all. Zima isn't that talkative, but his more "eccentric" traits are something you're probably used to on account of that initial bond and trust.
88 notes · View notes
soapskies · 9 months
Note
Could I request a yandere nolanverse scarecrow with a reader who is a patient at Akrham. Maybe reader has anger or trust issues and only interacts to certain individuals because most people aren't very affectionate or kinds (platonic if possible please since I'm a sucker for your teen/kid reader fics)
Tumblr media
YAN. NOLANVERSE SCARECROW W/ TROUBLED PATIENT
MALE READER. PLATONIC HCS. READER IS AN OLDER KID.
— Nolanverse Jon is a psychiatrist, not a psychologist, but I thought it would be more interesting if I wrote him to have one-on-one sessions with reader. So suspend your disbelief. :P
Tumblr media
You learned early on that the only way to survive your situation was to shut down, or fight your way through it.
One of the youngest patients at Arkham, you were infamous among your doctors for being very uncooperative during your sessions
Most of your issues exacerbated by the conditions at the asylum, and inmates who had no trouble walking all over you.
Your therapists (who didn’t care much for juvenile delinquents anyway, when villains like the Joker were housed in the opposite wing), were quick to walk out on you when you lashed out, all except one.
Dr. Crane was the only one who stayed in the room with you, even when you were screaming until your throat burned and spent entire sessions curled up on the floor.
Although you glared daggers into him, he met you with an even tone of voice and a self-assured demeanor that couldn’t be matched, scribbling away on that notepad of his when you thought there was nothing of importance to note.
Dr. Crane seemed to make all the time in the world for you, always first on the scene when you broke down, and never treated you harshly, no matter how cold you were towards him. No matter how many other doctors looked at you with contempt, as if counseling you was a chore.
Maybe if you were paying attention, you would notice that you ran into him a lot outside of sessions, in which he would prod about your well-being and insist on walking you wherever you needed to go, like an overbearing father.
Not to mention how his actions went far beyond a normal doctor-patient relationship, whether it was holding your shoulder steady to look you sternly in the eye or the tight, awkward squeeze he would give you briefly before parting ways
He seemed to prod you about everything. How you slept, what you ate, who you talked to, what your family is like…
Come to think of it, you haven’t heard from your parents in a very long time, since you started your sessions with Crane. Not that you wanted to hear back from them anyway, when they were the ones who sent you there in the first place.
Miraculously, you were eventually released for “good behavior”, despite your headspace not feeling any clearer, and in none other than Dr. Crane’s care.
Nobody seemed to question it, or give you a second glance as you walked out the doors with him. You were under the impression you were going home, only to be herded into the doctor’s car and driven to some secluded house in the countryside, a good long ways away.
Suffice to say, you never left out of his sight again.
Tumblr media
253 notes · View notes
pansy-picnics · 2 months
Note
I love love LOVE that your Rapunzel has tattoos!!! They are so artistic!!! and so HER! What kind of tattoos do Eugene and Cass have? I think I saw some flowers and maybe a moon and sun but is that all?
!!! THANK YOUUUUU OMFGGGG YOU GET IT!!!! :33333 if anyone gives rapunzel access to tattoos and/or hair dye she will actually lose her goddamn MIND. I like to think lady caine hooked her up with her tattoo artist in like. the middle of a battle. i feel like that’s a very tts type gag.
AS FOR CASS AND EUGENE’S TATTOOS IVE HONESTLY BEEN HOPING FOR A CHANCE TO TALK ABT THESE FOR A WHILE….please excuse my HORRIBLE rendition of them i scribbled this in like 30 minutes. one day i’ll draw proper refs for cass and eugene but today is Not that day
Tumblr media
first of all THEY HAVE MATCHING DESIGNS!!!! rapunzel drew out all of their tattoos and she made these two specifically to represent them as a trio….the birds being. self explanatory of course and the sun, moon, and earth representing rapunzel cass and eugene respectively….:3 this also was meant to kinda match the twins mobile i designed for my fic. These ones in particular are SOOO important to me
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i’ve never shown cass’ properly since they’re on her back but one of eugene’s is visible here….along with the sun and moon you mentioned, the sun crest and the brotherhood symbol…..:3
Tumblr media
AND CASS’ FLOWERS ARE MY FAVORITE ONE UNIRONICALLY BC IT HAS. Quite a bit more background to it. there’s also a sword wrapped in the vines thats BARELY visible in either of the pieces it’s shown in so i made it more clear in my doodle.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
this one kinda has two different meanings…..you’ll have to excuse the fact that it’s COMPLETELY inaccurate bc i designed it from memory and i’ll finalize it eventually but this is meant to vaguely represent the fictional “minne” flowers mentioned in “rapunzel: day one”- which. Idk how well known this is but the meaning of minne historically is i shit you not, “chivalrous love”, or “a kind of romantic love between a knight and a noblewoman” and there is NOOOO FUCKING WAY THAT WAS A COINCIDENCE THEY KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE SECOND ONE is just something i made up but the real world flowers that i’ve always associated with minne bc of their similarities are forget me nots…. which. the symbolism and name of i think are VERY fitting with cass’ character. she just really wants to be important and like. Remembered fondly by people methinks. like she’s afraid of one day disappearing and (in her eyes) there being no point or reason for her existence in the first place.
these are the only ones i have set in stone for NOW but most of my tattoo hcs for rapunzel came from just. Drawing her a bunch and adding new ones every time so i think they’ll probably acquire some new ones as time goes on, especially since i still need to actually finalize the ones they do have……but Yeah idk. i’m insane.
56 notes · View notes
angelkhi · 10 months
Note
hi! i loved your fic about abby so much! really one of the best I've ever read <3
can you write hcs about abby and how supportive she would be with her girlfriend being a volleyball player? like.. help her before an important game, the sexual tension when they argue after reader lost a-and all
thank you for everything!
i hope i did this justice! thank you so much for the ask and the kind words!! <3
prefacing this by saying my knowledge of volleyball (and most sports in general) are ranked somewhere between -0 and 0%. (i’m a formula 1 girlie i like cars going zoom)
this is generally sfw but it gets a bit smutty as per (minors do not interact i know where you live i’ll make your parents take your phone away😡).
Tumblr media
pregame!abby who gives you snacks and water, feeding you information on the other team (which you’re sure is not allowed).
pregame!abby making you a playlist to hype you up, sneaking silly songs in there to make you de-stress a little.
pregame!abby sitting you on her lap, hyping you up in front of your teammates, whispering in your ear how good she’s gonna fuck you if you win.
wholesome pregame!abby who kisses you on the forehead, who tells you “go get em baby” before every game. (she can’t resist swatting your ass as you leave).
pregame!abby getting all handsy with you, riling you up before the game so you can take it out on the other team.
pregame!abby letting you re-braid her hair when you get all nervous and fidgety before a game.
game day!abby who wears your gets mouthy with the ref over every tiny incident, standing off to the side arms crossed.
game day!abby who cheers louder than anyone else, shouting “that’s my girl” every time you score.
game day!abby trash talking the other team, pretending it’s someone else when the ref looks her way (she’s on her final warning).
game day!abby giving you pep talks between sets, making sure you rehydrate, reassuring you when your team is down a few points.
postgame!abby letting you sit silently in the passenger seat, hand on your thigh. after a loss she knows you’re disappointed in yourself even though it was a team effort, but she also knows coming at you glass half full will just piss you off.
postgame!abby doing little things, running you a bath, stocking up on your favourite snacks, ordering your favourite takeout, putting on your favourite movie even though she thinks it’s dumb.
postgame!abby who’s been waiting for you to snap, knowing that at some point all of that self depreciation and anger is gonna come pouring out.
postgame!abby knowing that you’re not angry at her, nor do you mean to take it out on her but she’ll take it if it makes you feel better.
postgame!abby refusing to touch you until you fix your attitude, making your moods even worse. it’s a game of cat and mouse, who will cave first? (she knows it’s you)
postgame!abby doing everything she can to get under your skin, lingering touches only to deny you later on, sitting you on her lap lips tracing your neck, fingers skirting along your hips until you reach a breaking point, then nothing.
postgame!abby finally having enough of your bratty behaviour, pinning you down against the plush sofa, completely overpowering you, crowding you with her scent and her touch not giving you what you want until you ask her.
postgame!abby who definitely edges her pretty girl until she’s quite literally on her knees begging for it, and then overstimulating you until you’re a blubbering mess. she’s so in tune with you, she knows it’s exactly what you need to release that tension. to finally talk instead of pushing her away.
postgame!abby who praises the shit out of you. yeah you both get off on it, but right now she’s all about rebuilding your self esteem and a little bit (a lot) of praise never hurt anybody.
postgame!abby with the sweetest aftercare, bathing you, wrapping you up in the comforter, hydrating you, feeding you, letting you talk. telling you how proud she is no matter if you win or lose.
just sweet abby and her volleyball girl <333
Tumblr media
176 notes · View notes
the-lavender-clown · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
MORE COWBOY AU STUFF BECAUSE I’M OBSESSED!!! The au I’ve made with some friends is called Fool’s Gold! I may or may not write some fics for it 👀
Here’s an infodump on it if anyone is interested!!
Raph is tired sheriff who sighs at every newspaper & new wanted poster showing off his blue and purple brothers as well as Donnie’s partner in crime but a he can’t help but be a little proud because he knows their doing good, just in their own special & questionable way.
Mikey is a nomad that travels around & sells self-woven clothes and blankets as well as hand carved & painted trinkets or whatever else he’s made. He treats weary travelers to home cooked meals & tales & legends of four brothers! He’s also the only brother not *constantly* making trouble for Raph.
Leo is a lone hero. Going town to town & over throwing whatever greedy mayor/banker/outlaw has that town in its clutches. He’s able to masterfully manipulate whoever he’s dealing with & using his many resources to gather important information. He ties them up to a post for the sheriff’s convenience when he comes by the town to pick them up.
Donnie & Cass are bounty hunters/mercenaries. They used to chase each other for their bounties & because Cass was a part of the Foot before the brothers took them down & Donnie just so happens to often be the closest to her trail once she popped up again. After awhile of constantly failing to catch each other they started thinking of each other as *their* targets & everyone knew better than to try and catch the other. A fun little song & dance/game of cat & mouse if you will. Eventually they ended up having to run from the same person together & realized that they honestly make a good team & have stuck together ever since!
Shelldon is adopted by Donnie before he & Cass teamed up. He was told by the Purple Dragons to get close to Donnie so they could catch him in exchange for enough money to set him for life, money they had no intention on giving him. He did get close to Donnie but in the end didn’t want to betray him but the Dragons had accounted for that & set off an explosion in a mining tunnel to get rid of them both. Donnie ended up being able to get Shelldon a little clear of the crumbling tunnel before he was trapped under the rumble. Shelldon doesn’t want to leave him but eventually does & immediately goes to try to find help, coming across Leo who had found Donnie’s spooked horse & was trying to find out what trouble Donnie had gotten himself into since his horse never leaves unless something really bad happened. Donnie ends up losing a leg cuz is it truly an F!Donnie if he doesn’t?
Casey is adopted after Donnie & Cass team up. They were in town for some groceries when Raph told them about this kid in some not so great circumstances & said it’d be a shame if someone were to beat up his guardians & kidn@p him while he was busy with all this paperwork. Donnie & Cass were gone before he finished. They weren’t gonna pass up an opportunity where they had permission to do a crime after all!
The main difference between Leo & Donnie’s work is that Donnie always cashes in the bad guys for money & can be hired for jobs as well as uses semi lethal methods while Leo mainly does it for fun & justice (& to mess with Raph) & takes like a free drink as payment before moving on. Leo will leave notes on the bad guys for Raph for when he comes to pick them up.
“The Bread Winners” is the name of Donnie, Casey, Shelldon, & Junior’s gang because Casey’s brownie scouts & my Donnie baker hc. It also shows that they’re in it for the money & fits with how the go undercover as a family often. Plus it sounds innocent enough to disguise how insane they really are.
That is it for now!! Hope some of y’all like it!!
Tumblr media
Here’s the drawing without the text in the middle
105 notes · View notes
sophsicle · 7 months
Note
so curious because i’ve been thinking about this for a while. but the marauders fandom has changed soo much since you wrote choices, specifically in terms of characterization and hcs for characters and things like that, and i was just wondering whether, if you wrote choices now, today, in this day and age, you’d change the characterization of characters like barty and evan? especially because they’re protagonists in kyd instead of the occasional antagonists in choices, they’ve really done a 180 persona wise. obviously bc kyd is an au, there’s a whole lot more creative liberty when crafting them and playing around with the “good” side of canonically “evil” characters (which i’m assuming is what you did), so i’m just curious. if u had to go back to a canon compliant story, having written them the way u did in an au, what, if anything, would you change?
Yeah the evolution of characters is honestly very interesting to me, especially because when I wrote Choices I personally had never read Barty or Evan in a fic. And I chose them as Regulus's friends largely by chance. And I don't know if I would have used them in aus the way I have if the fandom interpretation of them hadn't grown.
that being said, in canon i would write them the same. Like I actually think I did with them both what I wanted, that Barty is this cruel self-centred boy who's so desperate for his father's approval that he's gone rotten with it. Like everything he does, in a twisted way, is about his dad. and that to me, is Barty Crouch jr,
and Evan, while i feel a little uneasy with the way people ended up interacting with that character, I also do like. Cause he is charming, and he is a good friend to Regulus, and he has a sense of humour about what they're doing, but too much a sense of humour, this is a joke to him, this war, peoples' lives, it's funny. he is your quintessential spoiled rich kid who lacks complete empathy for other people (in someways regulus is also like this). but i like that you see, from reg's perspective, how these objectively bad awful people, still have friends and families and relationships. i like that complexity
so yeah, like it's possible I might have given them more screen time if I was writing it now, but they would still be bad guys. fleshed out well rounded bad guys. But bad guys. cause i think that's important to the story i was telling there.
99 notes · View notes