#I dunno specify if you're asking for them

[enthusiastic-nimrod]

I feel like drawing some fanart...

TAILS SWEEP! Congratulations lil' buddy, you flew right over the competition!

As the winner of the poll, Tails gets this cute sketch, and his own special piece! My goal is to post it by the end of the week, so keep an eye out!

[prettyboykatsuki]

Sae is absolutely devastated when you ask him if he wants to take a break from you

It's the middle of the night. You're stewing in your self doubts more than usual and you wake Sae up distressed by the possibility.

He's not upset when you wake him but you're worried about too many other things to take note of that. "What?"

You feel weirdly somber and emotional. It's not like you to be this outwardly needy or even this hung up on your doubts. But it's bothering you.

"Sae, do you wanna take a break?" You don't specify anything more than that on purpose, but Sae is more clever than that whether you want him to be or not.

"From what?"

You squirm a little under your bed sheets. It's dark and quiet, and his chest is rising in a way you find comforting which makes you feel worse. You close your eyes. "I dunno. From me?"

He pauses. There's a long, drawn out silence and suddenly he's pulling the sheets away from your face so you can no longer hide in them. He stares at you for longer than you're anticipating, and when you gather the courage to open your eyes—he looks upset. Genuinely upset. It's not a face you can recall him ever making before, and it's subtle.

It would be subtle if it was another person making such an expression, but it's Sae who remains at even neutral at all times. Even during losses of the worst games of his life. A face you've never seen before and it's because of you.

You're taken aback by the reaction and how it doesn't appear to fade.

"What are you talking about?" He sounds annoyed. Not necessarily at you. "Don't say nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," You insist. You feel stupid for bringing it up. Irritated at your own insecurity. "I just... I don't know. I feel like you don't want to be around me anymore."

He stares at you then furrows his brow. You think he's going to get upset with you but his voice sounds just a little different. A little softer. Maybe you're reading into it.

"I'm home a month early," Sae says. Your eyes widen. "I had more press to do in Spain but decided to come back home."

"...You didn't tell me that."

He rolls his eyes a little. "It wasn't worth mentioning," He sighs, puts an arm around you deliberately and you try not to fixate on how strong he is. "I thought being engaged and having a house together would make it clear." He replies, voice thick with sleep and no real frustation. "Go back to sleep."

You feel warm, suddenly - face pushed against his chest.

"Tell me you love me,"

"..."

"Sae."

"You're annoying," A pause and a drawn out breath. "I love you,"

"Kiss me."

He complies with this one easier. One to your mouth first and then another to the crown of your head - entirely unexpected. You feel your heart flutter. Damn him.

"Be nicer to me." You say lastly, feeling sleep draw you in. "I love you, Sae."

You're asleep before you catch the fondness of his face and words. "Might have too if you're asking me something like that." He mutters where you can't here, and pulls the sheets over you again. "How stupid."

[guacala]

Bella ramsey x reader and the reader like leaves hickies on bella without them realizing and bella goes to set/ an interview with it and Pedro makes fun of them

hickeys, bella ramsey

masterlist pairing: bella ramsey x fem!reader summary: you leave hickeys on bella and when she shows up to an interview with them, pedro makes fun of them word count: 1k warnings: suggestive themes (reference to previous smut), language, pedro annoying bella, but mostly a lot of fluff a/n: bellie and pedge have my whole heart. i used she/her pronouns for the reader since you didn’t specify which you preferred, lmk if you want me to change it. also, im sorry it took so long (writer's block is a bitch) and if it seems like it’s on crack, its probably cause i was listening to queen shaki and lana del ray while writing this… <3

you wake up to the morning light, a lazy smile making its way on your face as you roll over to see Bella choosing out some rings from your small jewelry box.

���good morning sleepy,” they say, looking over at you with a smile as you get up to sit criss-cross applesauce on the edge of your shared bed.

“g’morin’,” you say, eyes still half closed and reaching out towards Bella.

they walk into your arms, their own wrapping around you.

“you sleep well?” they ask, pressing a kiss to your forehead, knowing how much morning breath kisses bothered you.

you nod against them, leaning further into their touch, “you?”

“mhm,” they hum in agreement, pulling away from you to finish getting ready.

you take in the outfit that they had chosen for their day full of interviews, starting from the black jeans that fit them way too well, up to the black and white button-up with green accents, which was technically yours.

“pretty,” you say, sleep still clear in your voice as you slightly drag on the e.

“thank you, babe,” they say, and your eyes trail up to their face to see their smile grow, but something else catches your eyes and makes you do a double take.

“um, Bells?” you say, awake now, with wide eyes, and you can feel your face getting hot.

“yeah?” they say in response.

“um…” you start to say, but words escape you.

“what's wrong?” they ask as they take in your embarrassed state.

“your- um- well- i- just come here,” you say, getting up and walking over to the bathroom as they follow you, concern clearly written on their face.

“what is it?” they ask, and you simply point at the mirror, watching their face, carefully, as they look at where you're pointing.

their eyes widen, and their jaw drops in amusement as they take in the trail of purple and red marks starting at their neck and going down under the shirt.

they start to laugh, and you hide your face in your hands.

“i’m sorry, i-” you start to apologize before Bella cuts you off.

“no, don’t say sorry, i should be the one apologizing, yours are way worse,” they say with a soft but teasing smile as you finally take your face out of your hands to look at yourself in the mirror.

you take in the matching marks left by Bella all over your neck, and when you pull the neck of your hoodie down slightly, you see more marks littered all over your collarbone. you bring your other hand up to gently trace over them.

“gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” they whisper as they walk behind you, wrapping their arms around your waist and pressing feather-like kisses on the bruises that were starting to form.

“but you have interviews all day, and now you’re gonna have to be in makeup forever,” you say, turning around to face Bella, their arms still holding you close to them.

“it’s okay,” they say with a laugh, and when you look up at them, they mumble under their breath, “i kind of like them anyway.”

a shit-eating grin makes its way on your face as you laugh softly. “well if anyone gives you shit for them, it's not my fault.”

“what do you mean! of course it is!”

“i dunno,” you shrug, “it's just not.”

“well, you’re clearly not fully awake yet,” Bella says, giving you a small kiss, “i left you breakfast, but i have to go right now, or i’ll be yelled at even more.”

“no, don't leave me yet!” you whine as you hold Bella tighter, and they press another kiss on your temple.

“i know, i don’t wanna, but i have to,” they say, and you finally let them go.

“i love you,” they call out as they grab their stuff and start walking out.

“i love you more,” you respond.

“not possible,” they say as they close the door behind them, leaving a smile on your face.

⭒⭒⭒

when Bella arrives at the interview site, they are immediately rushed into hair and makeup as they scold them for the visible marks on their neck.

“Bella, what the fuck!” their makeup artist, Tori, complains as she starts grabbing concealer and foundation in an attempt to cover them up.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! blame my girlfriend!” Bella whines.

“you’re just lucky that you’re already dressed,” Tori mutters under her breath, and as she starts to apply the first of many layers of makeup, the door to the room opens up.

“Bellie!” Pedro yells when he walks in, acting as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“hey Ped-” Bella starts to say but gets cut off by a gasp coming out of his mouth.

“shit Bella, your neck,” he says in shock as Bella hides their face in their hands, causing Tori to roll her eyes.

“i know, i know, blame her, not me,” Bella says, referring to you, as Tori moves their head to the side.

“oh, i highly doubt that,” he says, laughing harder by the second as Bella’s face starts to get red.

“what's that supposed to mean?”

“that knowing both of you, the poor girl is probably ten times worse.”

“Pedro!”

“am i wrong?”

“well-”

“am i?”

“...no.”

“see!”

“whatever,” Bella groans as they roll their eyes and throw their head back.

“let’s just hope that makeup covers all of that up, 'cause little Bellie went to town last night,” he says, laughing again as Tori nods in agreement.

Bella turns to flip Pedro off, but Tori quickly slaps their hand away and tugs their head back to the side, making Pedro let out another laugh, which causes Bella to cross their arms.

⭒⭒⭒

it takes some time to get them both ready, but once they are, Bella turns to Pedro.

“just... don’t tell Craig,” they say, holding out their pinky to Pedro, and he links them together, nodding, as they walk out to meet Craig and Neil.

“hey, Craig!” Pedro yells as they get closer, “guess what Bell-”

“PEDRO! NO!” Bella yells in distress, and Pedro just crackles and leans in toward them.

“man child,” Bella mutters under their breath as they roll their eyes, fondly.

[mirrology]

— Rowdy .ᐟ ☆

୨୧ rowdy: ( noun) a noisy and disorderly person. (adjective) noisy and disorderly.

Ft. boothill, gender neutral reader. platonic. Wc: 722

Content: short bit of hc's and a small fic at the end, readers age is not specified, boothill being a little shit, he cares abt u tho, typical sibling shenanigans, sibling bonding, cursing, boothill may be ooc.

A/n: first ever platonic boothill fic /j, also this is kinda lazy but whatever.

He would definitely be one of those annoying brothers that come into your room just to look at you, then leave without closing the door.

but he genuinely cares about you and your safety considering his job as a galaxy ranger.

Boothill also definitely calls you runt, squirt, & kid no matter how old you are or no matter how much you complain.

Frequently ruffles your hair as a sign of affection, although this ends in bickering when you do your hair before it.

Definitely can't cook for shit, every time he tries to make something for you out of the kindness of his heart, he absolutely wrecks it.

It ends up burnt and inedible, and a purple aura around in a cartoonish fashion. and oh, the poor kitchen, you can't count how many times you've had to fix something. it has gone through a lot.

The two of you have sleepovers where you do skincare, watch movies and gossip about anything and everything.

you would think that Boothill is more of a horror movie and/or action movies type guy but he has a soft spot for sappy romance movies and the saddest films possible.

and if you feel like it, both of you talk about your love life.

Trains you by sparring in hand-to-hand combat, he usually wins the sparring, but you've gotten close to beating him.

After your training session you flop on the floor like a dead fish and beg him to carry you back inside, he obliges but not before teasing you for falling to the ground.

he picks you up in a princess carry or in a piggy back ride.

Boothill gives you things at the most random times, "oh but it's not a holiday or anything special today!" you can say but he won't care. accept his gift.

If you just as much glance at something in a store for 1 millisecond you'll find said thing in a gift bag with a little note, handwritten by him.

Since he's part robot he can't drink water or even touch it or he will malfunction, even though he's made to sustain the harsh weather of the desert and attacks from the criminals he hunts down.

so if he's being stubborn and does go through with touching water, you're the one who (quite literally) brings him back to life.

and because of this you've become well-versed in technology. you constantly fix anything that is wrong, such as a jammed finger. Although can't seem to get rid of that swear filter that he's unfortunately stuck with.

Overall Boothill is a very fun elder brother who wants to keep you safe.

You woke up to the feeling of being moved from your spot on your desk. you had been working on one of your tech projects, spending hours on end tinkering away in your room. You cracked one eye open, sleep pulling at your eyes, wanting them to close one more. You were met with the familiar face of your brother above you. then you registered the feeling of his hand on your back and underneath your knees.

Boothill noticed your sleepy gaze on him, and he smiled cheekily, "Heya, runt. I see ya' woke up" he chuckled in amusement at your disheveled appearance. He laid you down on your bed and placed the covers over your body, you immediately sank into your mattress and the soft feeling of the blanket on top of you was making you sleepier.

"Jeez, how long have ya' been up?" His smile dropped a little as he noticed a faint outline of dark circles underneath your eyes. "dunno..." you slurred out and turned to your side, facing him. "Hey, big bro?" you quietly said, Boothill raised an eyebrow "yea?" he asked.

You softly grinned, "Love ya'" you said, then suddenly being interrupted by a yawn. there was silence as your eyes drooped and eventually closed as you fell into a deep slumber.

Boothill stared at your sleeping face, it wasn't exactly surprising that you had said that you loved him. It was just that you didn't say it often, it wasn't that you didn't want to. Boothill's schedule is almost always full, so spending time with him can be hard. A rare soft smile graced his features and he reached over to caress your head.

"I love ya' too, kid." He whispered.

[ninjadeathblade]

Nachos (a Nimona fanfic)

Summary: Nimona tags along on Ballister's nacho date with Ambrosius (set post-movie)

Warnings: A couple swears and that's about it

Word count: 1,050

Fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Author notes: Thanks you to @skating-is-cool for scheming with me on my other post about this. I didn't put loads of effort into this if I'm honest but I let the boys finally have their nachos together.

"You promise to behave?" Ballister asked nervously, refusing to go inside until Nimona agreed. The shapeshifter had been begging to come along with him to his date with Ambrosius. Ballister had reluctantly agreed, knowing that if he'd told her no she would've snuck along anyway. Nimona shrugged, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"I dunno. Maybe." She shot him a grin full of fangs, almost falling over before catching her balance again and leaning forward onto her tiptoes.

"Nimona, please," Ballister sighed, exasperation clawing at the inside of his skull as he brought a hand to his face to rub across his eyes. "This is the first time since…everything that me and Ambrosius have actually been able to go on a date." Ballister struggled to articulate it to her. Mentally, he understood that Nimona was over a thousand years old and had probably seen many people be in love. But he also had latched onto her as some kind of younger sibling or daughter to him, which meant he had to explain everything. "Because we've left the army now, I don't have to hide who I am as much. You should understand that."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Nimona replied, flashing him another smile. "C'mon then, let's go see your boyfriend." Ballister made to grab her shoulder before she headed into the bar but she weaved away from him, slipping through the door into the bar. Ballister gritted his teeth before following Nimona, a certain air of anxiety around him. He knew that Ambrosius still loved him, that hadn't changed. But would it be awkward? The last time they were here Ambrosius was trying to convince him to kill Nimona. Ballister mulled over his thoughts as he followed Nimona through the bar, not paying much attention to his surroundings.

"Hey handsome." Ballister jerked out of his thoughts at Ambrosius' voice, looking down at his lover. Ambrosius smiled softly up at him, moving over in the booth seat to make room for him. Ballister shot him a shy smile in return, sitting down beside him while Nimona took the seat across from him.

"You're sure you don't mind she's here?" Ballister whispered, resting his head on Ambrosius' shoulder.

"She's family, it's not like she wouldn't be here," Ambrosius responded, pressing a light kiss to the top of Ballister's head. Ballister closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of safety. It hadn't been long since the queen had died but it felt like years of being on edge constantly.

"You know I can hear you two, right?" Nimona butted into the conversation and Ballister opened his eyes again, regarding her with a deadpan stare.

"You know you could let us be romantic together every now and then?" He retorted, earning a snort of laughter from Ambrosius. Nimona stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention to something over his shoulder. She transformed into a mouse, scuttling across the table.

"Be back soon." Ballister sighed with relief, visibly sagging in his seat. As much as he loved Nimona, it did feel more than a little weird having her third-wheeling on his date. After all, she was like a daughter to him. And although he wanted to spend time with her, it felt strange to have her on his date with Ambrosius.

"May I get you anything sirs?" A waitress appeared almost out of thin air beside them.

"Nachos," the two of them said in unison.

"No olives. He's allergic," Ballister added, jerking a thumb at Ambrosius. The waitress nodded, walking away.

"You always have to specify, don't you?" Ambrosius teased, playfully poking Ballister in the side. Ballister laughed quietly, wrapping his prosthetic arm around Ambrosius' waist.

"I can't have you dying. Who would continue the Gloreth bloodline?" Ballister joked with a gentle squeeze to Ambrosius' hip. Ambrosius practically doubled over with laughter, banging his fist on the table a couple of times.

"Shit, Bal, you think I'd actually continue the bloodline?" Ambrosius questioned, eyes slightly teary from laughter as he looked up at Ballister. "The closest thing to a child that anyone is getting from me is Nimona. We are adopting her, right? I mean, I get she's technically older than us but she's still a child, you know?" Ballister placed a gentle kiss against Ambrosius' cheek.

"Yeah, if she's fine with it. I haven't asked her yet," Ballister told him, withdrawing his hand from its position around his lover, fidgeting with his hands under the table. The two of them fell into silence, something that had rarely happened in the time they'd known one another. The waitress returned, placing their bowls of nachos on the table and Ballister didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry." Ambrosius broke the silence. Ballister glanced towards him, noticing the tear tracks down his cheeks. He was honestly unsure if they were from laughter or not. "I'm so sorry I didn't trust you. Or Nimona." Ballister placed his hand over Ambrosius', the dark metal contrasting against his light skin. "I didn't even try to listen to you when you explained."

"It's not your fault," Ballister assured him.

"But it is. If I'd listened, if I'd tried to help then maybe it wouldn't have turned out this way." Ambrosius skimmed his thumb across the back of Ballister's hand. "If I could then I'd change it all." Ballister brushed the tears away from Ambrosius' eyes, turning in his seat to face him.

"But if that happened then we wouldn't have our family," Ballister pointed out, pulling Ambrosius into a hug. The two of them sat there in the booth for a while, feeling grateful that despite everything they still had one another.

"These nachos are delicious, I see why you both keep coming back here." Ballister pulled away from Ambrosius slightly, glaring at Nimona. She was lying slightly across the other side of the booth, a bowl of nachos in her hands as she ate some of them.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ballister swore. "Can you not see we're having a moment?"

"Yes. And I'm having nachos," Nimona replied, biting into another one. Ambrosius pressed a kiss against Ballister's temple.

"Leave her be. It's fine," Ambrosius said. Ballister smiled softly, pulling the second bowl of nachos towards him and his love.

"Yeah. It couldn't be better."

[toranesu]

ok hear me out

punishing kafka for being a brat by edging her throughout the day, pulling her into closets or behind corners to finger her until she's shaking and right on the cusp, then pulling away with a smirk and dragging her back to whatever you were doing before

maybe she has a vibe stuffed inside her pretty pussy that you play with, keeping her worked up and biting back whimpers as she tries to keep her composure

imagine her teary-eyed begging when you finally go to bed that night, pleading for you to fuck her and let her cum as you continue the game. maybe she's tied up to make her keep her hands to herself as you tease her, playing with her clit as you let her whines and moans wash over you

good GOD this woman has me in a chokehold 🥵 please kafka just one chance, PLEASE i'll treat you so right 😫

gonna combine this w another ask cz i love this scenario so much nobody understands

sub kafka x dom gn reader | cw. non-specified sex reader, teasing, public vibe usage whatever that's called, bondage, brat kafka ftw

the two of you are lucky enough to be tasked with a pretty simple mission this time: get the new game silver wolf wants. it's simple, but annoying. normally you'd refuse, but you've decided to put this outing to use. your long awaited fantasy is waiting to be fulfilled.

she's been a brat, anyway. she deserves this. and you deserve to have your fun.

"are you kidding me?" kafka nearly laughs at your request. to walk around with an egg vibrator in her pussy... kafka had known some of your crazy fantasies, and this seems tame compared to them. "fine. it might be fun," she smiles teasingly at you, her hand trailing down your chest.

"go easy on me, darling."

you both enter the store, the controller of the vibrator in kafka's pussy settling nicely in your pocket. kafka herself doesn't seem to be struggling whatsoever, the sound of soft buzzing surrounding you covered by the music in the store.

"what game did she say she want again?" kafka asks, looking around a specific section of the store that you both know silver wolf likes. "mm. i dunno, babe," you respond in a small hum. "look down there maybe?"

as she crouches down to look at the bottom shelf, you turn the vibrator up to the maximum level without warning. kafka grips onto the shelf in shock, biting her lip down to contain the noises threatening to come out from the back of her throat. she glares at you, her hand covering her crotch as her grip tightens on the shelf.

she makes no sounds, but you don't fail to see the way she bites her bottom lip and the wet patch forming on her crotch. kafka really is good at keeping her composure when it's needed.

you chuckle under your breath and turn the vibrator back onto it's lowest setting, making kafka exhale deeply and stand up, shooting a pout at you. tonight's gonna be one hell of a night for sure.

once you get back, you hurriedly hand the game over to silver wolf before rushing towards your room. "what the hell are you running for..?" the hacker mutters under her breath before grinning at the game.

sure enough, once you enter your room, you see kafka fully naked on your bed. one hand on her breast, teasing her own nipple while the other's fingering herself open, three fingers already inside. the used vibrator already off, soaking wet from her fluids right beside her while she moans, looking at you with a lustful gaze.

"hey, come on. don't make me wait," she breathes out. her hair is messy already, her legs spread open, giving you full view of her wet cunt, leaving you breathless.

but no, this is a punishment. you're a stellaron hunter, no way you're giving in that easily. "who said you could take it out?" you grasp her hand with a stern look, pulling her fingers out of her hole as she whines at loss, looking at you with pleading eyes.

you grab some rope and tie her hands to the headboard tight enough to not let her escape, but loose enough to not hurt her too much. "h-hey— this isn't what we agreed on," kafka frowns, letting out a small groan as your thumb goes to rub over her clit.

"you acting like a whore and rubbing your ass and boobs all over me at a mission yesterday isn't something we agreed on either, is it, kafka?" you reply firmly, pressing the vibrator back into her throbbing cunt whilst she whines in protest, her legs closing on you.

you pinch her thigh and hold them apart. "you really wanna fuck with me right now, kafka?" she moans out at your words. the way you easily assert dominance over her makes her absolutely weak.

"c-come on, darling. you love me, don't you? don't– haaa.. d-do this," she moans as you press your thumb on her clit once more, her legs shaking. you haven't even done much to her, but it seems the idea of you teasing her like this gets her going.

you ignore her and continue rubbing her clit, turning the vibrator on to medium level. she lets out a whimper as she throws her head back, not even trying to hide her moans st this point, hoping to lure you in with that lewd voice of hers.

you give her clit a small pinch and press a light kiss onto her breast before turning over to change and head to rest. "well, goodnight, kaf," you grin at her, chugging down a glass of water and laying down next to her, wrapping a blanket around yourself.

"w-what? sweetheart, d-darling— h-honey?"

[lovable-liar]

𝗛𝗮𝘀𝗮𝗻 + 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻)

You guys met when he took Kaya to the vet!

And, sure. However unprofessional it was to fall in love with someone who comes to the vet you work at, technically, you don't take care of Kaya! So it's fine!

Your quiet, calm demeanor is exactly what drew him in!

That, and the baby voice you put on to talk to Kaya...

You're also pocket-sized! He loves you for that <3

He was a little scared to tell you that he was a twitch streamer, but when you asked him "What's Twitch?" he got to excitedly mold your perception of Twitch into one that he wished he had.

Strictly the leftist, dog/cat grooming, funny side of Twitch

He is soooo fucking iffy about you being on stream

Completely respects if you don't wanna be online, cos he doesn't really want that for you either.

His online nickname for you is "The Vet", his followers know that you're his partner, but he refuses to use any other name because he thinks it's so funny

Is constantly gushing about you

"The Vet got Kaya these new treats and she loves them! She LOVES them!"

"This morning, The Vet and I were talking, and she called me a 'simp'... keep in mind! She doesn't know what 'simp' means! I love this woman, dude... I- I just.. ugh... She's adorable."

"Look at how FLUFFY Kaya is! The Vet washed her after their walk today and, I dunno! The Vet just... she has that technique, you know? Like- she's such a good girl. Huh? Guys! I know vets are supposed to be good dog groomers- the fucking Zoomers are in the chat. These poor Hasanabi stream virgins don't know who 'The Vet' is."

"I'm not specifying who I meant when I said 'good girl', you're all just baiting me."

[jpeg-dot-jpeg]

😈

5 and... jaytimkon??? (For the drabble prompts)

Jpeg fr the things I would do for a jaytimkon from you akfjslajdlaja

-@bi-bats

I haven't drabbled much into jaytimkon territory, but i'll do it for you, beloved <];)

"So how long have you two been married?"

It comes out of Jason's mouth as a joke. Or, at least, he means it as a joke. He expects a scoff or an eyeroll or maybe a besotted smile. He isn't quite sure what to do with the startled look Kon gives him.

"What?" the guy asks, stupidly thick lashes fluttering in abashment. His cheeks go pink and Jason gets the sense he's resisting the urge to fan his face like a scandalized genteel woman.

Jason nods his head towards the door that Tim had just left through after walking in, saying, "Do you-" and promptly getting handed exactly what he needed from Kon without having to specify what it was. It isn't the first time it's happened since the two of them have set up shop at the little basement coffee station - separate, of course, from Tim's regular coffee station up in his living area - waiting for Tim to work his genius.

It's kind of magical the way they operate on the same wavelength - finishing each other's sentences, knowing what the other needs, vollying inside jokes back and forth too fast for Jason to even pretend to keep up. It makes some kind of longing crawl up in his throat. So he teases instead of saying Can I get in on that? Instead of saying Stop doing that before I start uncontrollably sobbing. Instead of saying Who do I have to kill to get me a bitch like that?

Kon stutters out, "We're not- that's- why would you-"

"Oh my god, breathe," Jason orders, taking pity on him. "I was messing with you. I just meant that you two practically share a brain. It's kinda freaky. But also...kinda cool."

Kon looked down and shrugged. "Just known each other a long time. Lotta missions, lotta near-death experiences. Watching Santa get blown up together probably had something to do with it."

"You- what?"

"It's whatever." Kon waves a dismissive hand through the air. "We're close, but - I dunno. You bats have something else entirely going on. I'm sure you understand him better than I do."

"Oh, come on," he can't help but protest. "Just 'cause we're both bats doesn't mean we have some kinda psychic connection. If we could communicate the way the two of you do, we'd all beat each other up a lot less."

"No, seriously," Kon insists, face open and imploring in a way that makes Jason want to cover him with a blanket so no one else can catch him like that. "Sometimes I think he's the alien, but then I hear how he talks about you, the way all of you guys work together, and it's- it's a little cult-y, but it's also really cool? Like you guys have a secret language. Plus, it doesn't hurt that he's been obsessed with you for, like, ever, so there's kind of that hero worship thing going on, and you're actually smart enough to keep up with the stuff he talks about and-"

There's something in Kon's voice that tickles the back of his brain, something between He talks about me? and 'Batclan Cult Allegations.' It sounds stretched thin and bittersweet and tense. The pieces fall together faster than he can relegate them.

"Wait a minute," he interupts. "Are you jealous? Of me?"

The idea is bizarre, absurd, unthinkable. It makes a little bird flutter around in his stomach, but he isn't sure whether that has more to do with the lovely, mysterious creature in the next room over or the goregous, good-natured creature in front of him.

Kon shrugs again, refusing to meet Jason's gaze. "Who wouldn't be?"

A warmth surges in his gut, rushing to his palms in a way that makes him want to reach out and share the heat. He puts several years of laborious therapy to use and decides to take a chance.

"And here I was, all green with envy over watching the two of you together."

And once those ethereal blue eyes lock onto his, Jason can't look away.

"Maybe if we put our heads together," he continues, hoping Kon can hear all the things he isn't saying as well, "We can parse out what the hell Tim is talking about all the time, 'cause I don't have a fuckin' clue."

The laughter that earns him sounds like bells. And when Tim walks in and asks, "What's so funny?" the two of them share a knowing look, something just between them.

[nrdmssgs]

You weren't supposed to laugh

Masterlist

My submission to @glitterypirateduck 's Alex Keller Challenge November 10-19 Promt used: №27 You weren't supposed to laugh Pairing: Alex Keller x Reader TWs: no Friends to lovers, fluff, confession.

"You're an egoist, Alex Keller," he mutters irritated to himself, fastening his pace, almost running, ignoring cold heavy water drops landing on his head.

How long did he knew her? Five years? Or seven? How long does he have this hopeless crush? Five years? Or... Yes, he was done for from day one. She had this certain warmth surrounding her, a serenity that contrasted sharply with the intensity of Alex's work. The world could descend deeper into a chaos, but she remained a constant in his life, a pillar of support, he selfishly was afraid to lose. So Alex Keller, the devoid of fear Echo 3-1, kept his mouth shut, just holding on to her, even as a friend only.

"A coward!" His insults are spilled through gritted teeth. Alex was ready to risk his life again and again, but didn't have the courage to confess his feelings. The stakes seemed too high, his chances - almost non-existent. Why would ever decide, he was the right guy for her after all?

He was almost never there, when something bad happened to her. Alex didn't hold her, when she had to put down her old dog - he was on the other part of globe, fighting. He didn't distract her with a movie night and snacks, when she had to wait for a result of a quite serious medical test - he was sleeping in a transport between two missions. He wasn't even there to cheer her up, after her project, she worked on so hard, got rejected - he has just taken the car to a service station and was walking out of it on his two. She didn't specify in the first place, when would the presentation take place, but Alex feels terrible for not asking her every week, every day, if necessary, when is the D-day for her project. And because of that, he found out the bad news per phone call.

She sounded exhausted. She was never a whiny type, but this time Alex heard tears in her voice. Too much effort was put into this work, too many sleepless nights. It broke his heart to hear her like that, and he panicked.

"...Useless dumbfuck." He stops for a moment, replaying their call in his mind.

For some reason he decided, he needs to make her laugh at any cost. Maybe it was the pain in how her 'hey, can you please talk to me for a few minutes?' sounded. But Alex was lost. At first, he tried his stupid jokes. As many as he could remember. When it didn't help - he switched to imaginary scenarios.

"Hey, you know, what would be funny? If you brought a soldier on your presentation! So that every time, your clients interrupted you or paid more attention to a view outside their windows - the soldier would harshly snap at them. 'Following every single letter of this debriefing could save your life, private!' or something like that..." Alex doesn't really control the words leaving his mouth as long as they make her laugh. And he actually succeeds, because in a few moments she starts to chuckle. So he goes on, telling her, how would her day would go, if she was followed by a military guy in a full gear and a death stare ready for anyone, who is about to cross her path.

"He would scare others off, you know?"

"With his glare or with his guns?"

"With his bizarre hairstyle. You know how your hair start looking after a week of constant sandstorms?"

Her laughter is a light, tinkling melody to his ears, reminiscent of wind chimes on a breezy day - light and refreshing. In reality, its the only thing on his mind every time, he has to endure through another sandstorm on deployment.

"... and at the end of the day he would escort you home and salute you."

"Wait, and a payment? I wonder, how much would it cost to hire such a guy for the day."

"Payment? Don't turn a beautiful act of an altruism into some banal deal! Dunno, maybe a forehead kiss?"

For the next ten minutes they discuss military payment strategies, barely containing laughter. When they say goodbye, a random phrase escapes his lips.

"Love you so much."

She laughs once again. Something deep inside Alex shrinks. He doesn't even hear her saying 'bye' - every other voice around him get silenced by a sinister noise - a symphony of shattered hopes and distant echoes.

He's an egoist to keep her in the dark, not shoving her his true feelings for ages. A coward, who could never open his mouth, even when the moment was right. A fool, who just blurted this confession out of nowhere in the middle of a joke. She didn't understand, he meant it, and Alex can't blame her honestly.

And now he runs to her place like a dog, running after a car carrying away his favorite person. He is desperate to the point, that he can't even start thinking, what would he tell her, once she opens the door.

So when he sees her tired, yet surprised face, his first phrase comes out as awkward as the confession itself.

"You weren't supposed to laugh."

She looks at him startled and confused for a few painfully long moments. As Alex understands, how puzzling that sounded without the whole context from his mind, he runs his hand through his wet hair and shakes his head.

"Alex? You're ok? I-I wasn't expecting you!" She drags him in her house and takes off his wet jacket, so calmly, as if he hasn't just said some complete nonsense.

And at that moment Alex understands: for two long he stayed in his very own trail of thoughts, his own context. She definitely deserved to know more about what was going on in his head. He no longer had the right to keep everything quiet for years and then dump such strange conversations on her.

So he touches her shoulder softly.

"Hey, don't bother hanging up my jacket. I might need it in a moment, if I sre-"

"Alex, you're scaring me! What is happening, why are like this?" A worry in her voice stings him with guilt. But he proceeds, ignoring raindrops still rolling down his face and under the collar.

"I know, we were playing around on the phone today. And I was incredibly happy to cheer you up. But the last thing I told you... You weren't supposed to laugh. Because I meant it. And before you slap my face for being such a mess - I know, it sounded as a part of a joke. But it wasn't. It wasn't for the last I-don't-even-know-how-many years. And if you give me a chance - I am ready to confess it properly. But if there's no need - I'd better just take my jacket and see myself out."

As he fell silent, the world around them seemed still. His eyes, always so attentive and kind, when she was around, looked deeply worried. Alex felt vulnerable, everything in him screamed to keep her by his side at any cost, to turn this all into yet another joke, so that she calms down and stays his friend at least. But Alex didn't let these feeling get better of him. He waited patiently and obediently, not daring even to breathe in.

She turned away, and hung his jacket on a hanger.

"You won't be needing this anytime soon, Alex."

[monsoon-of-art]

almost posted this yesterday (unsure why i thought it was a wip wednesday lmao) but!! heres some Barry :)

---

He paused. A strange look came across his face, and he grabbed Dawn's hands and held them tight. “I need you to tell me something. Something that only you would know.”

“Barry-?”

“Please. Please. Something only you would know. Please.”

Sadness overtook her features, not directed at him, thankfully, but she clearly felt bad for him, and wanted to soothe his worries.

“When you were little, you wanted to have a big birthday party with a big cake. And you invited the entire class. Your dad asked Elite 4 member Lucian, to borrow his Mr Mime for entertainment. And…uhm. When Mr Mime walked out with your birthday cake, you were so scared that you started crying, and you even-”

“NO! DAWN THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT?!”

“What did you mean then??”

“I dunno! Something deeply personal and special to us??”

“Well you didn't specify! What about the time you got your Halloween costume based on heracross and you asked me to hit you with a branch to ‘prove how strong' you were?”

“No, that's not what I meant either! I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose! Do you need me to fine you?!”

Dawn couldn't help but laugh. When was the last time she had been threatened with fines? She couldn't remember. It felt good, familiar.

For a moment, the medical room walls melted away. They were back home, camping, just teasing each other after a long day of training.

[randomchaosyay]

I dunno who all your write for Blue Exorcist, but uhhh

How would Shiro, Rin, maybe Mephisto and Lucifer if you're comfortable with that, feel about dating a fairly strong half demon?

Sure!

More under the cut

Reader gender not specified

My bad this took so long

Shiro:

- At first he’d be perplexed

- He’d slowly adjust to the fact that you’re pretty strong

- Would start bringing you to his missions before he had to look after Rin and Yukio

- Once he had Rin and Yukio to look after he’d love if you could spend time with them considering the similarities

- You’d be like a mother figure to them

- You’d stay with them every time he had to go out for a mission and even when he didn’t

- Overall he loves you and thinks you’re a godsend (ironically)

Rin:

- Would definitely love it

- You guys would be joined at the hip before you even started dating

- If there’s ever a part in class where he has to spar with someone he’d pick you (You always win)

- Hides behind you when Yukio’s trying to convince him to do something productive

- Would make you carry him like a ✨pretty little princess✨ whenever he got tired

- He’d like tracing your body and feeling your muscles during cuddles, it doesn’t matter if you’re not that muscular he’d do it anyways

- All in all time with him is always fun

Mephisoto:

- He would be THRILLED

- Bonus points if none of the exorcists know!

- If no one knows but him he might just have a little smirk on his face for a week

- Depending how strong you are he would make you do all the heavy lifting and move things around his office

- Why use magic when there’s you?

- He does respect you more after learning this though

- He would always ask your opinion on things

- Eventually you end up co-running the school with him

- Whenever he’s in his dog form he definitely puts a collar on himself and gives you the leash

- Overall he may use you as free labor but he respects and loves you

Lucifer:

- He loves that you’re part demon

- Since you’re part demon and part human he thinks you and anyone like you could be the key to accomplish his goal

- If you’re not already part of his war he’d definitely try to recruit you

- Might try to get you to infiltrate the order

- Knows how dangerous being part demon can be though, so he gives you a (really expensive) necklace to make sure he could find you if you were ever in trouble

- Is always so kind to you

- Won't let you lift a finger at home

no matter how strong you are

- Treats you like a princess, says anyone who treats you any less doesn't deserve to live

- Might try to recruit you but he loves you

[swarmishstrangers]

Your blog, fics and headcanons always cheer me up! Your art is so neat too. Ive been lurking around here for a bit when I feel like I need my crops watered. Question, can I get headcannon of mallek x reader where the reader is an artist? somehow was able to accept commissions while on Alternia? I feel like the vibe of them just silently drawing and him coding in the background is super cute. What do you think?

AUGRHGAA TYYY!!!! I'm glad you like the art, writing, and headcanons! I've also definitely had the thoughts of Mallek being with an s/o who works a lot on computers for digital art stuff, mainly cause it sounds peaceful af.

Okay, so! Artist is a pretty loose term that could apply to a lot of things, but you specify them drawing here, so I'll go over Mallek x reader, both of them being either a traditional artist or a digital artist.

Traditional Artist:

🎨Starting with the traditional artist! Dunno if any of you consider yourselves to be fairly clean but either way if you were to stay over at his hive a lot and for convenience's sake, leave some of your art stuff at his place..it only adds to the chaos that his hive, "damn girl you live like this?" Idk! I just imagine all sorts of physical stuff traditional artist's use. Different types of paint and paintbrushes, charcoal, watercolors, colored pencils, paper, canvases, etc. Your art stuff adds a whole other thing to look at in his hive and honestly? He's here for it. He thinks art is cool. I mean..he can do tattoos, so of course he'd have some appreciation for a s/o who does artsy stuff. He also like those moments where he finds you just covered in your art supplies. Charcoal all over your arms and even smudged on your face for when you couldn't fight a itch and scratched at it, your hands and fingers smudged with paint or oil pastels...he just finds it incredibly charming.

🎨Oh also on the subject of paint uhh. May or may not be something you're comfortable with using considering that paint on Alternia is made from the blood of trolls. Depends whether or not you can get over that and just pretend it isn't to cope lmao. If you can just. Don't ask Amisia and Chahut about how getting the supplies for your paint went!

🎨Mallek would find it incredibly relaxing to listen to while he's fucking around with his husktops and many monitors. Normally he's one to either sit in quiet with nothing to play or maybe he'll have his playlist quietly playing whatever music or other things to listen to while he works on projects or contact people. Not to say it isn't still quiet while you both do your own things, but that's just the thing. It's quiet, not silent. Mallek finds he works the best when he knows that there's life going on around him. The sounds of his hands rapidly typing on his keyboard, the whirring of his husktop, sometimes you can hear him speak to someone that he's calling. You just further add on with your sounds of living, the sound of pencil sketching onto paper or canvas, the louder or softer sounds of you using oil pastels or charcoal, papers being moved, the adjusting of a canvas. It's all very comfortable to you both.

🎨You're each other's background sounds.

Digital Artist:

🖋️Being a digital artist is also so cool to Mallek, why wouldn't it be? It's tech shit! He can also help you try and traverse the different Alternian art programs. It's pretty new to him too since all he usually uses is the Alternian equivalent to Microsoft paint..and it's not super serious, just doodles, sketches, and shitposts stuff to destress. You got yourself a husktop, Amisia was jumping at the chance to help you look for digital art supplies (such as a tablet and stuff), and Mallek helped you get a hold of art programs for you to try out and decide what you like to use as your primary programs.

🖋️They're pretty much the same as Earth art programs in terms of it's functions. Though of course their interfaces can be different from program to program. Not everything works as it does on Earth? Certain shortcuts or tool locations are moved around or changed but it's pretty easy to figure out if you're experienced in digital art. And if you're stuck or can't figure something out your cool tech savvy matesprit can help you out. Mallek has his moments where he takes a break from what he's working on briefly to watch you draw...he always has to stifle a laugh when he sees you're absolutely struggling over there to do line art, having to undo do your stroke like 50 times before you get it. Like the previous one? He thinks it's cute and charming.

🖋️While you don't add a lot of new things to look at it in his hive, as you're working with more tech, it's still just as nice to listen to in the background he thinks. He can hear your fingers type out messages to friends or clients you're working with, the sound of your pen stroking against the tablet face, your mouse clicking here and then. There may not be as many sounds, but he finds it just as comforting, he likes to listen to the life around him after all.

Commissions:

As for the commission portion, thought it would be fun to get into this separately after talking about the respective art types! Being commissioned as an alien on the planet is certainly. Interesting. Which can be taken positively or otherwise.

Being an alien is your selling point to a lot of trolls online. It's where you got a huge chunk of your followers! Sure, they're very split on genuinely believing you are a real alien and those who think this is some kind of roleplay account or something but follow out of interest. Your commissions gather more interest from those who want a drawing from an alien! Real or not. Lots of odd are fun interactions.

For a traditional artist you could go the route of just, scanning your picture and posting it onto your socials and tag the trolls (or post it to the troll client privately). If you offer a shipement of the physical original drawing Mallek can help you out with getting a drone to drop it off for you so you don't have to go on a wild goose chase to find the troll client in this great wide troll world.

[mahiiimahiiii]

fuck it, guess we both aint' shit

a/n: sorry this fic took so long y'all i am so slow when i write. for context, i solely write before i go to bed and pass out with my phone attached to my head this was a request a while back when i was still active in bg3 circles lol so its been going for MONTHS at this point. i dunno how folks crank this shit out that's like a super power. anyways im playing skyrim now!!!!! im working on two fics, one skyrim and the other f:nv, because i love love loveeeee beatrix russell and also want my ttrpg character to have several enjoyable moments in her sad life. stay tuned! it may be a while for those to come out, so i appreciate y'all being patient. coops accent in this story is based on my own, im from the Appalachian region of virgina!! just to note we tend not to say the first letter of words. at least that was my accent and my experience each southern person will be different :)) please enjoy and let me know if you have any ideas, i'm always grateful for those.

ps. sorry for the long a/n lmao

(my doc says this is 19 pages!! my longest to date lmaooooo.)

general notes: named insert (fo1 character!!), doc is brown :))), i tried to stay pretty neutral with gendered language but doc has a pussy and boobs (sorry for being vulgar. it helps to specify their parts so you know what you're getting into) as always its a smut, and ooc cooper, i'm getting my feel for him, drugged sex, cannibalisim as a metaphor, barely disguised breeding fetish, restraints and rope play.

During the warmest months of a farming season you often asked yourself, why. 

Why did you decide to choose NCR sharecropping in the first place, and what made you so god damn lucky to leave Nevada alive. 

You had started off a trek from the high walled dunes of the new republic’s deserts for a more opportunistic place in Colorado. High walled mountains kept off raiders, but kept in heat and snow. So you worked tirelessly on the outskirts of a small settlement, modeled after a historic town out of a western film. 

Recently you received Brahmin from a trade deal which made planting significantly easier to do.

Brahmin dung was also good for another thing as well. 

Jet. 

Your tidy lab always stunk of fertilizer and smoked out herbs, this was a small production thing so the allowance to vary was there. You sun-dried the patties first, stacking the briquettes between bushels of dry and wild herbs, this would be burnt out and condensed into pressurized containers, if not mixed with a bit of water for easier spray abilities. 

This is where your actual money came from; compared to that farming was a hobby. You had a regular client coming in for a shipment. This one-a favorite of yours for a bit. Perhaps not for his “aesthetic appeal” though his sallow and gaunt skin holds echoes of the handsome man he was previously. 

No.. 

You liked his voice (though faux it was), and his bright teeth(stained with a yellow, making them seem more manilla if anything), the way his hat held over his brow (you could never see his eyes), the perch of his thumbs tucked into his belt (an odd position at that.), and the corners of his smile lines. With each step you took towards him, the professional in you took five steps back. You had half a shock at one point to care for him when he randomly appeared piss drunk at your step. The way he curled into you as his speech slurred, or the odd way he made himself comfortable on the couch. 

He told you you smelt nice that day. You sent him along with a packet of sober up pills and hangover meds.

You pressed down on the seed bed with a glove tugging at the carrot rooted in the Rocky soil. 

“Sonofabitch!” You cussed out as you tugged. You took a couple more stabs at the dirt again, loosening the ground around it. 

Your breathed in the deep blue sky surrounded by miles of mountains, the plains you resided in like the bottom of a welded goblet. 

You wiped the sweat off your brow, the chunky glove absorbing most of it. You tugged up the loosened carrot and tossed it into a small bin filled with produce. You stood up brushing off your overalls of excess soil. 

You carried the bin off, jumped by a hoarse whistle from the pasture. 

“There you are sweetheart!” He held a hand over his head, in greeting. 

“Hey you!” the ghoul gave you no name, so you referred to him in vague suggestions.

 “You certainly arrived early! What's the occasion? Could you help me with one of the baskets, Hun’?” 

He trotted over, the click and jingle of his spurs followed behind him. He hoisted one over his shoulder with ease. “Am I not allowed to see my favorite doctor? I found myself wandering about the area, supposed I'd drop by…I do know when I'm not welcome though.” 

“It would be awful rude of me to not accept your company.” You teased in return. He rolled his eyes, lugging the bins of produce to be sorted and sold up your porch steps. 

“Need a place to stay?” You didn't look up, as this generally came as a routine question. 

“Same as always.” He confirmed, stomping off the dirt from his boots. 

“Mind me changing then, hun?” your words didn't reflect affection, but showed shallow familiarity in them. 

He shrugged, “‘pose not, m’ gonna have a smoke on the porch.” 

“Take your time” you nod, trudging up the creaking and faded wood stairs. 

You weren't sure how to approach him, he had shown signs of interest previously, walking in on your out of the way showers, leaving things for him to come back and collect them, paying more caps for his shipment than usual. To be fair, you definitely indulged him- at one point you had complained about your water resource being devoid of warmed water. As you padded around with soaking skin and a fluffy towel, and a grumpy expression cemented on your lips. 

All this teasing didn't help those dreams, they started when he left an extra shirt from his pack. This one was dark and ragged, a change from his gray stained cowboy shirt with tassels. It smelt like him, and deeply so. You were ashamed to admit that you used it to pleasure yourself for a period of time. Eventually your breath stained the shirt and it no longer smelt like him; that was a depressing day indeed. 

You had handed the item back to him, he took it with a thin smile. I'm glad you took care of it. 

Weeks after an item of yours went missing, then returned in odd places. Socks, a camisole or two, most egregious was from your hamper, two pairs of bloomers you intended to clean. It was an unspoken agreement, an item exchange of sorts, perhaps he sought companionship on the heat stained road. 

To admit your affections weren't returned was a vague understatement, he had propositioned you on several occasions often asking to meet late at the barn, he was quick to release offering a thank you by allowing you to squeeze and grind down on his fingers as he cleaned the spent cum with a tossed aside shirt. It was always one of yours. 

Those moments were short, maybe if you offered a comfortable environment he'd be willing to play pretend. 

You tugged off the flannel that stuck to your sides, unclipping the overalls and tugging them over your shins. Your bones popped as you stretched, peeling off the soaked undergarments in exchange for one less distracting. The air was cool against your skin, you took a wetted rag from your ceramic basin and cleaned down your sweaty skin. You tossed the dirt stained clothes into your hamper: sucking in air between your teeth. The outfit you decided on was a loose button down, soft cotton slacks with a silver button, and some leather sandals. 

It wasn't your most dashing look, but it was an easy one, something to throw on as the sun began its track down.

+

You ate in silence, spoons clicking against cracked porcelain bowls. The stew was filling as per usual, but you kept your head down. 

He looked much more red with the checkered table cloth in front of him, his jaw working as he pulverized the food in front of him. 

The ghoul in front of you quirked a brow “you ain't becoming feral are ya? The rate you're scoffing supper down. I'm fraid to be your next meal!” 

“No m' just thinkin’. Tend to eat fast when I have lots to ponder.” you held the spoon to your lips tilting it and passing the savory broth over your tongue. 

The older man set down his spoon, a bit of confusion racking his brow. “yaint got much to think about. What a chemist n all. You're just plugged into all them formulas ,ain't you sweet pea?”

You grunt in somewhat acknowledgement “I guess”

The lower rooms in the evening became sticky hot without the curtains drawn, bright sun flames the sides of the buildings and glinted off the tarnished metal buckles and beads on the cowboys outfit. 

“Well.” You rose holding your empty bowl, the click of metal under porcelain still droning on at the other side of the table. “I'm pooped, I think it's time to retire to my room. Do some unwinding, the works. Goodnight, sir. “

You turned to leave, setting your bowl in the open kitchen sink, the ghouls voice interrupting your thoughts.

“Hey doc- I got an odd request.” The cowboy began. “Have you ever tried  jet?”

Cooper hesitated for once, feeling your warm skin beneath his palm, the way your pulse sang when he touched you. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.”

His thumb traced the corner of your mouth, lips parted delicately to taste. He had you pinned as you sunk into his figure, one hand flattened on his breast the other hanging limply at your side. You cupped it around the side of him, allowing him to move in close. 

He watched your eyes wide and dilate, your already oh so large pupils eclipsing your iris’s. 

This must've felt like light years away for someone not as attuned. 

Your breath washed against him, his nasal cavity picking the strong sickly scent of jet on your tongue, he could taste you in the back of his throat. 

“Tell me if anything is too much, as much as I seem gruff, I do desire the lady folk having an equal amount of fun.” 

You hiccup and nod, “yeah I understand - yessir.” 

“You don't try your own stock, doc?” He tilted his head, carefully leading your jelly body to the bed. 

“Jet ain't my choice- I usually go for day tripper. Slows you down a lot more, so I do it during sunny days. Things change and you can enjoy a lot more “ you talked with your hands he often noticed, but here they flew without meaning, like a puppet with cut strings. 

“Mmm.” He mused, a sound of recognition. He shut the bedroom door, the low light of the sun spilling in dappled puddles through your window. He kicked off his boots, placed them in a corner and set his heavy overcoat and hat on a chair. 

“Once again, are you sure? Is this what you want?” 

He was hesitant to approach, leaning over you with one knee on the soft mattress. The springs creaked under the shift in weight. 

“You certainly know how to make a girl beg for it.” You joke, cracking a half grin. 

“Being a tease comes with the territory, sugar.” he tucked a curl behind your ear, cupping your cheek with the rough palm of his hand. He listened to your breath flutter; that hit of jet has fucked you up. 

The rusted iron bed frame creaked under his shifting weight, mindful of your soft limbs as he coaxed your legs apart to hang on his hips- Your hair bloomed outward on the pile of cotton and straw pillows. eyes laden with a hazy glow that reflected the golden light. 

Your breath fanned over his face- sweet, tangy and rich. Your tongue swiped in-between your cracked lips coating them with a coating of spit, they glistened in the low golden sun. 

Your hand, weathered from soil, caressed his cheek with all the gentleness of a rose petal. He crooned and leaned into you, you were much more inviting of his touch, a satisfied “hmph” as what remained if his lips landed on yours. 

Your hands found the back of his neck pulling I'm into you. 

You felt soft, curling around his jagged edges like water droplets on a sky light. His fingertips tingle with electricity.

 You huffed tilting your head slightly, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Your skin pooled with heat, his thumbs finding the underside of your breast. He cradled your tap dancing heart between two palms. Your lips found a clumsy rhythm; one that he found nostalgic. It was easy to imagine being young with you, you made it look effortless. 

You pushed him away- cheeks stained a bright rosy pink as you gulped down air like an odd looking fish. Curls laid on your cheeks sticking up on odd and random places, if he was a much kinder man he would've tucked a strand behind your ear, issuing kisses that traced to your nose. You cracked a warm, half-smile; your hand finding a place under his cheekbone. 

You wheeze out quickly, coughing up fumes of jet; sputtering like a broken down car. “Your name-” you finally got out, “I never got your name.” 

There was sincerity in your eyes, innocence even- perhaps a hope that this wouldn't be another one-night stand. 

Perhaps today… he would allow himself to fly too close to the sun. For once- to bathe in the bright warm of comfort, the wholeness of companionship; the milk of human kindness. 

“Cooper.” 

“Cooper.” The sound rang off your cherry pink lips held by ivory teeth and a fleshy velvet tongue. “Cooper.” 

“And yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Just doc is fine.” You purse your lips, the joy that rang off your tongue snapped close like a heavy lid of a jewelry box - hiding the treasures from sight. You formed a slight business-like manner to your tone. 

He nodded curtly, shifting on his elbows to drape himself over you once more. 

He worked the buttons of your shirt off. helping you out of the loose cotton shirt- he licked his lips intently. It was truly an oasis of flesh to his gaze. 

He whistled low, his fingers twitching and buzzing- aching even, just to get a feel of the soft warm skin beneath him. “Arnt you the prettiest thing I ever did see” his voice was a lowered rasp.

The warm sun pooled below your sternum and held your face dearly. The lace frame around your pillow held up your portrait. 

The bounty hunter listened to your heart beat away in its cage. He then sat back on his haunches and dragged his fingers down your sternum. 

“Such pretty, soft skin “  he cooed. The nail in his finger digging into the surface leaving a trail of raised skin behind it. You wiggle at the prickling sensation on your skin. What game was he playing? 

He took an inhale as his palms cupped your shoulders and scooted down your sides, repeating in an almost massage like motion. He repeated the same kneading motion with your chest, a low sigh coming from his lips. 

He was used to an exchange or dance of sorts when it came to these circumstances. A relief of hand, or the jingle of caps in some woman's back pocket. The road has taken a toll on his aspect of companionship, for once he found himself slightly stupefied except for the notion to touch you. 

You melted into his warm palms; your eyes fluttering shut into relaxation. 

“Are you comfortable Cooper?” You broached the awkward silence of sighs with unease. 

“Doing just fine sweetheart, you relax now.” the vaquero chides; flicking your nipple as a slight retort. You tense at the sensation though unpleasant as it is enjoyable. 

The ghoul unbuttoned his vest, tossing it aside and leaving him in that faded vault tec cowboy shirt and pinstripe trousers. He loosened the top few buttons of his shirt, a bit self conscious of his form without all these layers. You blink slowly, re-assembling to settle your thighs around his hips. His kisses smudged your lipstick, cupping your jaw in one hand- the other cradling the pillow behind your head. you lean into his egging, lifting your neck for his teeth to graze. 

His tongue was the first sensation. licking a stripe up your collar broke you out into simple goosebumps. You close your eyes against the sensation of him latching onto your skin. One of his hands caressed your chest, the other held your hip- squeezing it gently. He left indents and bruises to litter your skin, a mauve flush of patchwork on your neck. As His bites ran below the collar- he shifted position. He kissed down your chest, marking a spot right above a mole. Dipping his head lower His tongue swirled around a nipple taking it into his mouth. 

The other was treated to the same palming while his other hand busied itself by burying into his boxers. 

A bittersweet image flooded his mind. As a younger man himself, he would take many lovers. Holed up in some trailer room on a daybed, lips puffed and tight pencil skirt tossed to the wayside, it left you cloaked in a mussed bone white blouse with a bow at the neck. Dark black heels dug into the velvet beneath your ass. The tight stifled moans- the ferocity of your grip- the way you offered to not ruin his set costume. 

Your glasses would slide down your nose as he coos would split you wide open like a piece of log. 

These dalliances were savory before married life, a taste he'd like to try again. 

He found himself switching, adjusting hands, welcome to an exasperated sigh of frustration from your lips. 

“Cooper” sounded off like a prayer, the rock of an ocean wave as he navigated down your sternum. 

He hooked a finger under your waistband- you burned brighter than any field of irradiated waste. “Now's your chance miss.” he hummed, stroking the sides of the scrunched fabric. 

Much to his chagrin, you nodded. A warm sickly sweet feeling of familiar warmth crept up the walls of his stomach. Was it pride? Longing? 

Whatever it was, he stared down the barrel of his would be nose. He wet his lips like a wolf about to blow down a stick building- and certainly, most certainly, he would make a meal of the javelina inside. 

Carefully he unwrapped you, laid bare before him your skin bristled underneath the heat of his hand. He sighed again for emphasis, the flashes of you in that scenario warmed the back of his mind. 

Another indulgent idea as his fingers skimmed against your hip line. His brow furrowed as he watched your eyes flutter shut again. 

Chaps pushed to under his knee, boxers and Levi's still clung to his thigh. In this he was a bit older, the sleepy dream holding an air of youth from the way you bit down on his hand and hesitated to fully sheath yourself onto him. In quick staccato motions that angled for just the right spot sent your teeth sinking into his hand. Your legs shook slightly as the tip of your heel curved around his calf. A careful balancing act 

His hands traced patterns onto your clit absentmindedly- bowing down to steal a slow kiss every once in a while. He was careful, he wanted something decadent. 

He kneeled at the altar between your hips, for he was but a man. 

He bit down on the flesh of your thigh, prodding your entrance with a finger- he sucked at the indented wound. Lifting up your thigh he left marks underneath the skin of your butt. He worked on opening you up- sliding a finger into you easily. You held eye contact, rolling your hips against his thumb and hand, figured in a pinching motion. Just one tug of the thread and he had you spiraled out. 

The air was laden with the heavy silence that wasn't the crackle of an obscure motown album. He added a second, your body rippling out like a Newton's cradle at the sensation.

“Coop’ shit-” were the first words you said in a bit. 

“Talk to me babygirl, can only do so much while my hands are busy.” He curled his fingers massaging the spongy tissue beneath their tips. 

“Coop-!” you whine again, leaning into the hand that cupped your face. 

Your brow was furrowed in concentration- moving your toes to avoid the muscles of your leg locking in place. 

“Are we just fond of sayin’ my name, hm? C'mon pretty girl, tell me whatcha like me to do.'' He growled, kissing the corner of your mouth, the side of your nose, up to your furrowed brow.

He kissed back down your chest, kissing the flesh of your thighs. 

He began his game of chicken- cupping your back one thumb drawing circles into your sides. 

“Tell me.” He urged.

his lips drew near your throbbing clit heat pulsing in waves from your legs. 

“God, you're really having me do this?”  you puff up a bit, embarrassment settling into your skin. 

“Ain't no shame in being polite, sweetheart.” He chides “your parents teach you manners? Now am I gonna spell it out for you or what?” His tongue dipped between your folds; tracing light circles around the bundle of nerves. 

You hissed like a tea kettle, bending the knee for better access. “Please sir.” Your tone was condensed as you struggled to keep composure, or lest you break in your bed partner's nose a bit more. 

“Please what, be specific sweetheart.”  

 your warm palm squeezing the back of his head felt just right 

You swore under your breath, mustering the courage from the depths of your stomach, sacrificing your bruised pride in return. “please I'd like to- like you to eat me out.” 

“What a sweet girl, perhaps I'll reward her for being so polite, hm? What do you think doc.” He grinned, flashing the aged and manilla teeth in his maw. 

You deflate, nodding your head in almost defeat. 

The ghoul hummed in approval- his fingers once stilled began to tap dance happily against your inner walls. He wove himself into you, mouth latched firmly onto your clit- his dark blown eyes flashing up to your reddened face every once in a while. 

Your thighs framed his head. He had lifted one over his shoulder for better access to your core. Your legs hooked around his neck, trapping him closer. 

The sound of slurps made your stomach twist into hard knots. Contented and pleasured groans fell around you- sending small vibrations to your clit. You held onto his bicep, after a while he offered his other hand. 

To be eaten alive by another man was only discussed in the late hours of the evening. Cigarette smoke drawn from his teeth hissing away like a steam engine as you talked. You felt consented like one humming giant beast.

The cartilage of his nose bumped against your clit as he went to taste you. Squeezing the delicate fingers of yours pink, he pressed his hips into the mattress trying to relieve some pressure. 

“Coop’! holy shit-!” He felt your walls contract around his hand, clamping down in them. He was quick to remove himself leaving you sullen and empty 

Partially to stave off an orgasm from how nimble his fingers could be. Years worth of repairs means one getting good at tasks like sewing.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Can't have my baby spoiled yet.” Cooper tutted stealing a peck from your lips.

Your lips formed a whine as he sat back licking his fingers clean. “Ain't right if I can't have some fun too, hm? Ain't that right, sugar.” His lips twitched into a smirk as he unclasped his unruly belt wiggling down the rough denim over his ass and thighs. He splayed his legs and sat back on his haunches, eyes flicking back up. He wasn't bigger than average, but he was certainly thicker. A pert and red head with pulsing green veins that ran down the side. his legs and hips were surprisingly less marred than the rest of his body, resulting in just a light texture on his cock. 

“You're awfully quiet now sweetheart, see something you like?” He teased, prowling his way back up your form, his lips mapping the thin and light scars on your smooth skin. 

He slid his member along your folds bumping his head against your clit. “Ain't you just hot n’ bothered, hm sweetheart?” 

He could feel you trying to squeeze down around nothing desperately looking for something to work on your arousal with. 

“Roll over for me, pup.” This came out as a snarl, a harsh command from the sweetness he usually treated you with. He spat into his hand. Rubbing it along his shaft as a makeshift lube. 

You laid there ass exposed to the warm light. Your knees pressed into the mattress below.

The cowboy readied his condition to be that of a sour patch kid, enticed to show vulnerability but apprehensive enough to snap. A high emotional state for him.

He watched your ass bounce as you turned, your head cushioned by your pillows. You stared at him from behind. Those big eyes of yours would be the inevitable death of him. He filled a palm with your flesh squeezing it gently before quickly smacking it. 

The force made it jiggle again, the sounds of the slaps sounding sharp and sour. His warm hands palmed the fullness of your reddened ass rutting himself between your cheeks. 

“God I could just cum just like this, all over this gorgeous ass of yours.” Cooper sighed, bending forward for a better angle. 

“‘s your choice” your voice slurred- giving away the concentrated effort not to beg like a bitch in heat. 

His hand was quick, the slap left your skin tingling. “I don't take backtalk well miss. If there's something you want, we ask for it- politely. The ncr hadn't brought back the old worlds manners with it as well I see. I’ll make a respectable woman out of you yet.” 

You snorted, “ain't no manners when you were raised with a gun in your hand. I'm not a common whore from the strip. I'm an educated whore.”

“Damn right.” He growled with a swift serving of pain to your ass. He pinched it and jiggled it slightly. He stopped for a moment in a split decision, bowing his head and kissing the skin under his hand, “sorry.” heaving a sigh from the bottom of his chest. “ It's a shame this gotta end so soon.” 

“You don't have to go just yet coop’” you attempted to reassure the older man “you can stay at my place if you'd like. Didn't know you were having this much fun tossin’ the sack. Seemed…casual to me.” 

“I'm only human, ain't we supposed to be social creatures doc?”  his hands smoothed over your back. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, a peace offering beforehand. 

“ ‘pose so. Alright then, I don't get how this relates to you fucking me raw soon.” you teased, turning your head to the side of a pillow to gaze back at him, a slight coyness to your lowered lashes. 

“It ain't.”  his mouth fused mostly together into a wide and glistening smile, seemed a bit wider- cheeky almost. “Since you asked so nicely…” he trailed off, the head of his member rubbing against the folds of your entrance. “What was it you wanted? Gee I don't remember- maybe the radiation is getting to me after all- you're gonna have to remind me.” 

You shoved your hips back in a retort- trying to capture all of him just from the sensation of his members head prodding your entrance. 

“Oho!” He chuckled softly “getting feisty aren't we.”  You felt the warmth behind you fade. You looked back in confusion. The vaquero bowed, kissing a splotch of red on your ass. “Eyes forward, doc.” He commanded, and so his will, will be.  Behind you he rustled, searching for something, he hummed quietly once he found it, his lasso.  The ghoul fastened a hangman's knot at the end of the rope tying it between your ankles and knees. Another loop and knot at your hip then over a shoulder and under an arm. So when he pulled back he would pull all of you. He went back to rummaging, pulling a pair of stockings out of your sock drawer, loosely tying them around your wrists, an odd touch of care considering that the rope already bit at your skin. “Now are you gonna behave? Or must I do this the hard way. 

“I'll certainly try my best” you tilted your hips up, popping your back. “Can't promise much from one so ornery as myself.”

“Well then if you act up I'll just cum on your ass. Fair deal?” he spread your lips apart, broaching your entrance. His other hand dipped in front of you pressing down on your stomach to avoid initial cramping. 

You gasped and grit your teeth. “fair deal.” 

“Ain't you a gentleman then coop, your hands quite a nice temperature” 

“Thank you” he purred, adjusting his hips as he sank into you, “just the polite thing to do when you don't have lube.” 

His hand shifted to your clit, pinching gently at the sensitive nub. Heat bloomed like hot house poinsettias at your core. He grunted at your walls clasping down and memorizing everything about him. 

“Ain't you nice and tight.” The cowboy hummed, wiping at his brow. “This is gonna take forever if you don't relax.”

And oh God did you feel wonderful. Tight to the center with just a bit of friction enough to cling onto him. 

“Ain't much relaxing to do when you're pumped up on jet.” You lowered the floor of your stomach trying to accommodate his length.

“Ain't that so? Just looks like we’ll have to do some forcin’ huh?” He shifted his hips out ever so slightly and eased his way back in. Slow and comfortably, he manually stretches you out. You moaned out into the pillow beneath you, leisurely thrusts scraping against your walls. You clung to him like a glove, his balls merely tapped against your vulva. A warm soreness hit the back of your core as he tugged the rope down onto him.the fibers bit your sides, neck, and hips, searing their marks of claim onto you. He leaned forward, the sink slow but hitting the back of your cervix, your sex made a soft squishy sound as he hit hilt, panting like a feral mongrel dog. 

“God I hope this is what heaven feels like-” he sighed, rolling his hips. 

The cowboys sunburnt peach skin flushed a blotchy red around his cheeks. “m gonna come to visit more often- just to cum in this pretty hole of yours.” 

“You've got an awfully dirty mouth coop’” you teased, sneaking a smile behind the round of your ass. This wasn't the first time the older ghoul had asked for favors, but always always always he cried like it had. 

“not true, I followed my momma's instructions to brush my teeth every night” his grin peaked to the side. Hand quick as a flash landing itself on your rump, you let out a little oof. 

“your momma did a piss poor job then..”  You retort, lowering your chest to hit a more connected angle. 

His knees settled down in-between your thighs. Spread apart with the rough indented and textured skin of his bare skin. 

  He settled back in his calves, his hand lazily finding its way back to your clit massaging it in small pulses, pinched beneath his thumb and forefinger. 

With his hips settled back, the top of his head slid against one of your sweet spots, sending pulses like a fiddle string down your spine.

You burrowed deeper into the pillow, stifling the moans that threatened to spill from your lips. 

He held a hand to your side that was surprisingly gentle. He bowed his head and curled inward- kissing the small on your back. 

“This ok with you? May I get a little faster?” the ghoul has asked. 

You let out a grunt of approval, backing your hips fully on his member. At this pace you became playful lifting your hips at the last second, eeking soft whines of content through his teeth. He tipped his head back, coopers warm hands snuck under the rope to brace your hip.

“Agh, fuck.” The rasps he made ached in your throat. “Darlin I can't do this, flip over.” 

and so you did. 

Between his ribs there settles a faint green glow, like some sort of demented lightning bug. 

Cooper worked at getting the lower ropes off your legs allowing some freedom, but kept the ones that framed your chest. Your hand tied up to the bedpost like a malfunctioning bungee cord.

“There you are.” The ghoul cupped your cheek, his thumb drew small circles into its hollow. You laced your legs behind his calves as he entered again, precoating your walls with pre-come.the cowboys eyes became half lidded and fluttered, he was going insane just being inside you.  His hips were an attempt at a measured pace, speeding up every once in a while to keep you on your toes. 

The older man leaned down to kiss you, his lips and hands clung to you with a sense of rushed intimacy. The smell of your sweat clung to his rope and to his skin promising domesticated life of sorts, if he just stayed. 

You hitched your knees up above his hips, the edge of the bed thumping into the wall behind you. Cooper leveraged himself a bit more sinking in quickly making your thighs sting. 

 He quickly rutted his hips, the ghouls hands cupping your contorted face as clicks of irradiated sweat fizzed around you. 

You felt light headed, a dull throbbing pulsed through your mind. You could barely keep your eyes open to hold contact without them shutting or rolling back in their sockets. 

“Coop-” you whispered, “holy shit I'm close- you're gonna break me sweetheart -”

“Ain't that so? That's a shame hm? That you have to wait?” 

“No-” you whined, clenching your jaw “no please- coop- don't-” your mind ran like a panicked rabbit instinctively rocking your hips back down. Sticky sweat clung to you, droplets sidling down your hips like a rain shower. You sounded exhausted, covering up your eyes with an arm as you continued to mindlessly back into him

 His hand drew circles on your hip, moving up to your lower belly and pressing down. Cooper raised his arm up to wipe the sweat off his brow. 

“Want you to feel every little sensation.” His tone was staccato and clipped. “God you're so tight- enjoying yourself huh?” his smile grew as he watched you melt into a puddle before him.

“Coop-” something ripped out of the bottom of your chest, vicious and animalistic, you barred your teeth, squeezing around him taut as wire. 

The cowboy was relentless, teeth sinking down into the alcove of your neck monitoring the fogginess of your pupils 

The light flooding the windows with gold sunk down to a murky violet, a bright orange sun sitting center on the smoky horizon like an unfried egg.

“I'm so close, baby.” he pleaded in a soft tone “just a bit more.” 

Your grip tightens on him. “Coop I can't-” your sentences slur, your mind cramping from a quick release. Your walls pulse repeatedly. Your lips pull back, framing yellowed gritted teeth. 

He leans back, Pawing at your chest on his haunches. His hips patterned like a bumpy ride on a caravan, a two tap system as he stretched through the tighter ring near your cervix. Everything in his mind screamed to knock you up, a sham of the biological drive to have children and settle down. He would hope the call of domesticism would be satisfied by orgasm. A measly offering at best

He leans down, licking up the side of your chin and gathering a drop of sweat. He groaned softly, his hips jutting and staying there for a second. Your walls cramped down around him begging for another release. His hips slowed to an easy trot, keeping the pace steady and easy on your walls. His head curled into your neck, wheezing quietly like a ghoul on the verge of ferality. Cooper throbbed and pulsed, knotting his limbs into yours. You could feel every ridge and crease of him inside you, memorizing it like a map.the sides of your walls stung with arousal and numbness from overstimulation, it was a very fantastic and overwhelming sensation.The older man groaned into your ear as you squeezed down again on him. Completely entranced by the way you felt around him. His lower lip jutted out as he chewed at the side of it. His eyes were soft round and watery, bright white sclera seeped with yellow and red in their inner corners. The bed creaked softly underneath the relatively gentle rocking. The ghoul kissed up your neck, keening out into the crest of your ear. “God I think I may come sooner than expected” he grunted nibbling on the outer shell of your ear. He felt like he left orbit, and his skin set aflame. He set his body flush against yours, the lower half of his belly pressed against your clit. You flinched at the sensation, shooting lightning bolts down your thighs and heating up the already soggy air around you. Your legs peddled and extended down intending the sheets, flexing around his hips to tugging at the mix of stockings that held your arms back. Cooper's movements became a lot more quick and erratic, slamming himself down to sheathe his length fully, crying into the alcove of your neck, he shook as he wheezed our breaths of submission to the will of domesticity. He pushed his hips forward, the ropes of cum painted your walls. He pinched his lower base and jerked off into you, pressing everything into your folds. The ghoul then lowered his head and kissed you, the hiccuping sensation of rocking his hips back into yours due to a stimulant that was so salivating to him. 

“God, doc. What a trip, and what a treat you are.” 

“Have I made you a changed man, cooper?” you could barely keep your eyes open a fucked out sort of exhaustion taking hold 

The older man shrugged, “I'll sleep on it and consider.” 

He sighed, reaching over for a towel that lay on the ground and pulling out, and cleaning you up. He tossed the towel again, and landed himself next to you. “c'mere’ I'm not evil enough to leave you short handed.” He curled around you, his hand fitting in the crease of your hip. And that's where he stayed until dawn.

[weebsinstash]

SO TRUE Im trying to enjoy my Miguel fanfics but most of them are so out of character I just can’t 😭😭

I dunno if I would exactly say out of character (partially because I don't want to imply I'm some characterization expert or whatever when I haven't published Jack shit) since I feel like, there can be different themes or emotions or vibes the story is going for that may call for some tweaking, or like certain fics focusing on specific parts of a characters personality, like "I just wanted to write him being angry and how he mighr respond whils under stress" which is valid, but like

One thing I will say that I immediately noticed when I started combing through Miguel fics is, a lot of people make him WAY too verbose and eloquent. Yeah he's a genius, yeah he gets very serious in scenes, but my god the vocabulary some people give him, the way some people have him structuring his sentences. He's not as overly detailed and formal as some people like to write. Like this is a man who says shit like "well, I guess you're just going to have to shut up and trust me" to people he's trying to rescue and, again, even when he's chasing down Miles, he's huffing, "UGH you're so FRUSTRATING", like idk if you consider it canon but his after credits scene in Into the spiderverse literally has him meeting Spiderman 1967 who, MAKES HIM SO MAD HE DOES LIKE LITTLE HOPPY HOPS, like. This man is a DWEEB. He has a temper and threw a trashcan at a teenager! Mf literally loses it and says "¡ay coño!" over a Spider Society wide broadcast, my man livestreamed himself saying "for fucks sake" across the entire community because they didn't immediately understand which specific Spiderman he was asking them to chase the moment he asked them to "stop spiderman" and not specifying any further until, "for fucks sake, MILES MORALES 😤 he's entering sector 4!!" and also when Miles is hiding on that dude's back he's just sprinting up "he's over- on your-- TURN AROUND!!" and waving his arms around

like, he's an emotional person! He's not some like anime supervillain, he's not some demon lord sounding "it is unfortunate that you decided to behave in this manner" dialogue ass-- like I mean, I know there's only so many clips circulating online so maybe people are just. Gleaming the wrong context? Like I've seen a few "all Miguel scenes" videos on YouTube and none of them ever really capture the full context of any of the scenes, there's cuts for copyright, some people cut different parts, some clips are higher quality, but like, it really is different when you see the full movie cause I feel like a lot of people are just focusing ONLY on the parts where he's being, you know, scary as fuck. Like don't think i didn't immediately notice "oh holy shit Miguel actually put CLAW MARKS in Miles' shoulder", this man was literally chasing and diving for this kid, they were bailing out windows, there was a cat, and a t Rex, and idk, maybe I'm looking too far into it but you don't have to make him Ultra Serious to make him intimidating and scary. There's gotta be a balance I guess? I see too much of him being lowkey an edge lord and not enough of him being Just A Real Stressed Out Dude. Idk. I just keep finding written dialogue for him a little cut and dry sometimes, there's only a few things I've read where it stood out to me (like in "no more dry bites" where he's just stopping midsentence to huff "why are you being so-- ok you know what, fine--" *immediately changes tactics lowkey like a tantrum*

Like have you seen some of the concept art of him, they were originally debating giving him glasses and a 5 o clock shadow and have him looking more dorky and casual, like, the man has personality, he has depth, I want the third movie to peel his layers like an onion, I just KNOW there's gonna be a good ending for everyone 😤

I'm just sitting here and thinking like, yeah he's serious but he speaks in a very human way? Like, one thing he says to Miles is something like "you can't save them all, kid. Believe me, I've tried, and the harder I tried, the worse things got" or something along those lines, too lazy to pull up the clip, but like. Idk. Maybe I'm just overanalyzing and maybe it's just people wanting to go for certain moods but i just feel like way too many fics have him acting way too, not even serious, just kind of edgy. He's a serious guy but he still doesn't talk like he's some emotionless robot. He's gonna cross his arms. He's gonna put his hands on his hips. He's gonna roll his eyes at you. He may just even rage quit the conversation "ok, you know what, I gave you enough chances--" and just bites you because this is the quickest easiest option and better to put you out now rather than drag this out and get both of you worked up because He Is So Fucking Tired Dude

[fangirls-fanfiction]

Chapter 15 hehe

♦️𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚒♠️

The sisters slammed the door open, making Porkrind jump from the nap she'd been taking while waiting on customers.

""Porkrind!"" The sisters said in unison.

"Cup-brats..." She rolled her eyes, leaning her head on her hand. "Come back to annoy me after being gone for three months?"

"Has it really been that long?" Cuphead asked, picking Lucas up from getting into things.

"Yep... Too bad, isn't it?" Porkrind's eyes rolled to the ceiling. "What's with the mutt?"

"He's our dog! Isn't he cute?!" Mugma'am ruffled the tuft of fur on his head.

"Strangest dog I've ever seen. Do they usually come with horns?" She asked skeptically.

"Uhhhhhh..." Cuphead looked to her sister for help, Mugma'am quickly changing the subject.

"We need dog food, a collar... Uh... That kinda stuff. Do you have anything?" Mugma'am quickly asked.

"Nope." Porkrind answered immediately.

"Could... Could you check?"

"Nope."

"Come on, Porkrind! You gotta have something!" Cuphead whined.

"Isn't there a pet store in the city? Like, away from here? Where you can't annoy me?"

Cuphead grumbled, Mugma'am placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Queen Dice didn't specify we had to shop at Porkrind's." She said as quietly as she could, though it proved to be quite fruitless.

"That scamming pain in the ass sent you? Where exactly are you two staying?"

"Uhhhhhhh—"

"That's not important, Porkrind, we'll get out if your hair." Mugma'am pushed her sister toward the door.

"You know what, girls, why don't I go check and see if I can find something for your sweet little pup, and we can make a deal."

"Uh—"

"Ok!"

"Cuphead I'm not too sure if we should— "

"Don't worry, I remember what Dice told me, I won't let her scam us." Cuphead whispered, excitedly heading back inside.

♠️ ♠️ ♠️

Somehow, at some point, Old Scratch and her right hand woman ended up on the lounge in the demon's office. Sharing a drink, it surely helped with the Devil's nearly blown circuit. She leaned her head upon Dice's in complete tranquillity, even so, something was on her mind. Something she was just so unsure of.

"Dice... You know they're going to find out sooner or later, don't you...?" Lucifer asked, keeping her eyes glued to the bourbon in her glass.

"Who will find out about what, honey?"

"That lady at the orphanage. She's going to find out that I lied... Hell, we can't keep this from the girls. What am I supposed to do? Ban them from going outside?" The Devil frowned.

"You've grown to care a lot about them, haven't you?"  Queen Dice teased, though the Devil didn't find it very funny.

"Answer the question, Dice."

"Right—" Dice cleared her throat. "Well, we're always here if they need us... They know that. And I'll fight that woman and win if she comes by again— And you know I would."

"Yes, but that is how it works... They're 17 with no caretaker..."

Queen Dice shifted positions, the Devil sitting up to look at her girlfriend, the woman blinking as she pondered. She sipped at her drink, stringing together a plan. Her green eyes looked to her Boss as she still pondered.

"What?" The demon tilted her head.

"I'm just thinking... You know, the girls have made home here..."

"Dice." The Devil warned her.

"If they're up for adoption... I mean... I don't see why we couldn't." Dice continued.

"Dice you're not serious, are you?! Wh— Why would they want to stay here?" The Devil asked.

"I'm just sayin, maybe we could... Y'know... Keep them... Just a thought..."

"Dice..."

"Oh come on! Don't tell me you haven't thought about it! Not even once?!"

"Of course I've thought about it! But... I dunno..."

The office door swung open, grabbing their attention.

"Cuphead! We can't just waltz in like we own the place! You gotta knock!" Mugma'am scolded her sister.

"Oh... Right."

"Did you get all you needed?" Dice held her hand out for her change.

"Yep! And I even have change!" Cuphead smirked proudly, reaching into her pocket and handing Dice a single one dollar bill.

"That's it?!"

"Hey, you didn't specify how much change you wanted." Cuphead placed her hands on her hips.

Queen Dice grumbled, unable to argue as she did not in fact give the sisters a specific amount of money she wanted back.

"Porkrind scammed you, didn't she?" The Devil smirked.

"She didn't scam me!" Cuphead frowned.

"Yes she did." Mugma'am rolled her eyes.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not—"

The sisters suddenly stopped at the sound of a low growl as the Devil gripped the bridge of her nose. They knew very how easily the demon's anger could get out of control.

"The Boss has had a rough day, why don't you two go downstairs and... Do something." Queen Dice said calmly, the girls nodding as they left the Devil's office.

As the door clicked shut, Dice turned back to the demon. She sighed, leaning her head in the woman's shoulder as she stared at her drink, running her finger around the rim at a slow pace.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just... Overwhelmed..."

"Well, we don't have to do work for the rest of the day if you'd just like to relax." Queen Dice put an arm around her girlfriend.

The demon looked up at her, pausing as she made eye contact with Dice. Blinking, she didn't say anything, but she didn't need to;

"Or if you want some time alone, I can leave too."

"Noooo." The Devil whined quietly, burying her face in the crook of Dice's neck.

"Ok, ok, I won't go..."

Queen Dice pondered at what she could do to help cheer her up. Looking around the room, Dice's eyes fell on the demon's desk. Piled with endless paperwork in an unorganized mess, Dice could see how it could be overwhelming at times. She couldn't help but think that even just looking at the desk made the Devil feel overwhelmed and frustrated.

She pulled the demon closer to her, placing a kiss atop her head. The Devil's tense body immediately relaxed, shifting slightly to sit in a more comfortable position, still sitting right next to her girlfriend.

♣️ ♣️ ♣️

The sisters didn't speak one word to each other on the elevator ride down. Both because they were simply upset with one another and the fact that they felt guilty for making the Queen of Hell's mood even worse.

"How do we always manage to make things a million times worse?" Cuphead sighed as she once again tossed the puppy's toy for him to chase.

"We don't always make things worse... Do we...?" Mugma'am asked.

"Maybe it's just us... Elder Kettle didn't like us fighting, neither do Dice and Devil." Cuphead crossed her arms, ignoring the puppy when he brought the toy back and dropped it.

"Well, that's just it," Mugma'am picked up the toy and tossed it, the dog barking happily as it ran after it. "Maybe it's just because we fight so much... We can't seem to agree on anything."

"That's not true! You're the one that doesn't..." Cuphead stopped, Mugma'am frowning. "I guess we do fight a lot..."

"Let's promise not to fight as much." Mugma'am held her hand out to shake.

"Fine by me."

They both looked over the to Hellevator, Henchwoman walking out and sighing rather loudly, unknowing that the sisters were right in the throne room. Taken aback by seeing them, she immediately attempted to look more positive and optimistic.

"Is everything ok, Henchwoman?" Mugma'am seemed to have noticed before she hid it.

"Who? Me? Absolutely! Things couldn't be better than... Than they are now..."

"Something's wrong, and I think I know what!" Cuphead smirked.

"No! It's not what you think! I swear I'm happy for them! S— Sure I love the Boss, but I would never want her to be unhappy and..." She stopped, judging by the sister's facial expressions, she was quite off about what she thought they meant.

"What...?" Cuphead looked at Mugma'am. "I just thought you were tired from work. What are you talking about?"

Henchwoman froze in place, she was completely petrified. And the worst part was, she had no idea how to get out of this situation. She'd always been bad with secrets, even her own, she'd always wished she knew how to lie to people as easy as her boss could.

"Look... I'm... I swear that I'm happy for the Boss and Miss Queen Dice but... I... I..." She drifted off, sighing as she glanced back to the ground. "Being around the Boss for thousands of years has given me a chance to really get to know her and... And appreciate her... And..."

Two loud gasps got her attention as she drifted off once more.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?!" Cuphead asked, giggling.

"Th— The Boss?"

"You can tell us, we won't judge." Mugma'am spoke sincerely.

"I— I mean she's... She's wonderful... Sure, she doesn't have a very good understanding of emotions and how her actions can affect others... But... I dunno, there's something about her that... That I can't help but like..."

"Like or love, Henchwoman?" Cuphead snapped, getting annoyed.

Panicking, Henchwoman looked between the two of them, trying to find a way out of this. With no way out, she buried her face in her hands.

"Henchwoman, just answer the question!"

"Cuphead stop!" Mugma'am took her sister by her shoulder. "You're— We're upsetting her."

Cuphead opened her mouth to argue, Mugma'am frowning, reminding her of their deal. They turned back to Henchwoman, the purple imp uncovering one of her eyes when she noticed they weren't yelling at her anymore.

"You don't have to tell us, Henchwoman." Cuphead sighed. "We're sorry."

Henchwoman uncovered her face completely, sighing as her gaze fell to the floor.

"We shouldn't have pressured you to tell us what had happened. That's your business, not ours." Mugma'am went on.

"Yes." Henchwoman blurted out, quickly covering her mouth to stop the words from tumbling out.

The sisters gasped, turning to look at one another before turning back to Henchwoman. They both smiled, getting excited much to the demon's dismay. She frowned, creasing her eyebrows as she lowered her head. The sisters frowned, realizing the exact circumstances.

"Now she'll never know cuz I was too much of a coward to tell her before..." Henchwoman spoke bitterly.

"Is this why you've been so down?" Mugma'am asked.

"Is it obvious?"

"Yeah kinda."

Mugma'am elbowed her sister in the ribs, Cuphead glaring at the other.

"I guess I'm just upset cuz I know I'll never have a chance with her now..."

"Hey, don't be sad, who knows, maybe you'll... You'll find someone even better than the Devil." Mugma'am tried to lift her spirits.

"That shouldn't be too hard." Cuphead mumbled.

"Don't be rude." Mugma'am snapped quietly back.

"Thanks girls, but I think it's a lost cause... Love just... Isn't somethin that works out for me." Henchwoman shrugged. "But let's get somethin straight, you two don't tell The Boss or Queen Dice about this, alright?"

"Tell us about what?"

The three of them yelped, turning to face Queen Dice, who had just exited the Hellevator with the Devil.

"Nothing!"

"We weren't talking about anything!"

"Who's Cuphead?!"

Queen Dice raised an eyebrow, looking between the three of them. Smiling sheepishly, the three others stood in uncomfortable silence as they stared up at the other.

"Alright, you three obviously don't wanna tell me, and I'll respect it." Queen Dice rolled her eyes as she and her girlfriend headed down the hallway to the Devil's bedroom. "The Boss and I will be back later."

When the door clicked shut and they were completely out of earshot, the three of them sighed, relieved that they seemingly hadn't caught the whole conversation.

"That was a close one..." Henchwoman sighed. "Anyways, you two had better not tell the Devil 'bout this."

"We won't." The girls said in unison.

"Swear it."

The girls hadn't exactly ever seen or heck, even heard Henchwoman get angry before. Even with her boss. For someone who spent most of her time with the literal Devil, she didn't seem to lose her temper or get annoyed with her as Queen Dice or even the sisters did. There didn't seem to be one mean bone in Henchwoman's body. Seeing her get angry and upset at her secret potentially getting revealed was definitely surprising and a little unnerving.

"We swear we won't tell!" Mugma'am threw her hands up in defense.

"Yeah, we'll keep your secret."

"Good... I don't know what I would do if she ever found out... Now I have to go finish my duties for the day."

The sisters watched Henchwoman slump out of the room and down the hallway, off to do some of her many chores for her Boss.

♥️ ♥️ ♥️

“Uhm… Ruby…?”

“No.”

“Diamond?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

“Hmmm… It’s a gemstone that’s cherished… Can I have another hint?”

“Really?” Queen Dicr stopped playing with Lucifer’s hair momentarily, receiving quite a spit frown from her. “I’d give it away if I gave you another hint.”

“Pleeeeease…?” The Queen of Hell looked up at the woman from her lap, giving her the very best puppy eyes.

“Ugh, fine. It’s blue.”

“Uhhh… Agate!”

“No.”

“Aquamarine?”

“No.”

“Sapphire?”

“Bingo! There ya go!”

“Yay! I win!” The Devil laughed. “So that’s your middle name… Queen Sapphire Dice. I’m still surprised it’s not Diamond.”

“Well… I supposed it’s because that’s my mother’s middle name; Duchess Diamond Dice.”

Lucifer snickered again.

“What’s so funny?”

“Her initials… Are— Are D.D.D.” She giggled, covering her mouth in an effort to be quiet.

Queen Dice rolled her eyes, smiling while she shook her head.

She once again stopped playing with the demon’s hair, moving to her face, moving her hair out of her face. All the while her Boss just kept on giggling about Dice’s mother’s initials.

“I take it this is helping your stress?”

“It is… Thank you… You’re so smart, Dice.” The Devil reached up and cupped the other’s face.

“Anytime, Dev.”

The Devil paused, lowering her hands in thought.

“What? What is it?”

“Can I tell you something, Dice?”

“Sure, anything.”

“So… Back when I was… Y’know…” She drew a circle above her head in the air to represent a halo, Dice nodded, immediately understanding. “Anyways, I was… I was referred to as Lucifer… But I also had nicknames back then… Sort of like I do now…”

“Where is this going?”

“Everyone close to me back then called me Luci… No one’s called me that for eons…”

“Not even Henchwoman?” Dice tilted her head.

“No, not even Henchwoman.” The Devil shook her head.

“It’s a shame… It’s a pretty name…”

“Uh-Huh… So… I just wanted to say… You… You can call me that… If you want to.”

“What? Luci?” Dice asked.

Lucifer smiled, a tear forming in her eye before she quickly wiped it away. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

“Yeah…”

“Alright then Luci, you beautiful, beautiful being.”

Luci chuckled, her eyes still closed.

“Luci, my love.”

[time-travel-trio]

(You hear the clacking sound of a keyboard being typed on)

Is this thing working? Oh, wait- AHA, there we go!

About time!

Took it long enough.

Yeah, really. So, let's introduce ourselves! Hello, Rotomblr- Rotumblr? How do you spell it? Girls, you know I have dyslexia-

Oh boy, we're off to a bad start.

Yeah, really.

AHEM. Moving on... I'm Dusk! I'm the one in the middle here, with the red eyes. I specialize in Ghost Types, and I'm kind of our leader? Sorta? I dunno.

I'm Dawn, on the right, with the magenta eyes. I like Poison types. They are verrrrrry fun. Dusk and I are twins, if it wasn't obvious.

I'm Twilight, the odd one out on the left, with the brown and pink hair. I use Psychic Types, and I'm their little sister. Nice to meet you all!

We decided to make a shared blog here for you all to chat with us with. You can ask us just about anything, but if we find an ask too weird, we're just gonna delete it.

Yeah, don't come over here asking REALLY weird shit. You know what we mean, you weird fucks.

Language, Dawn.

Shut up-

Girls, chill. Now, you all may notice we're using different text colors, it's just so you can tell who's talking. Wouldn't want you all getting confused. Now, with all that said, uhhh... you can start asking us stuff now, I guess.

Wow, way to be confident when ending it off.

C'mon, Dusk, you can do better then that.

Girls, don't make me get Thanatos. OH RIGHT, you can ask about our teams, too, and depending on who you ask, the Pokémon spoken about may chip in with something! Okay, now we're good.

Ask away, people!

(OOC under the cut)

I decided to make an ask blog for my three Pokémon OC's, Dusk, Dawn, and Twilight! You may have seen them appear over on other blogs, rest assured, that is me, just my alt lol.

Pelipper Mail is ON! Magic Anon is OFF!

Don't be weird with them, yall. I won't hesitate to block anyone who asks anything obviously inappropriate. None of that shit will be on my blog. This is fuckin' MINE, and it ain't gonna be a circus for your creepy desires, got it?

When I talk OOC, I'll use // as an indicator. You can ask me things as well, if you want! Just specify!

Speaking of that, specify which of them you're talking to when you send in asks, please. I'm not a mind reader. If you do that, I'm gonna end up hitting you with this:

(thanks to @the-boy-and-the-poison-puppeteer for the inspiration for this lol [sorry for the ping], go check out his blog if you didn't come here from his)

Any of them may go unavailable for any reason at any time, so I'll keep a list of who's available and who isn't.

With all that said, have fun!

Available For Asks:

Dusk

Dawn

Twilight

Kieran

Their teams, as they're revealed (Thanatos the Zoroark and Hoshino the Ogerpon so far)

Me, the Mod! (You can call me Kat if you want, she/her pronouns!)

Pokémon Revealed:

Dusk's: Thanatos (Shiny Alpha Hisuian Zoroark), Gengar, Golurk

Dawn's: Bellona (Alpha Sneasler) Pecharunt (nickname unknown)

Twilight's: Ra (Alpha Hisuian Braviary)

Shared: Hoshino (Ogerpon)

Here's reference sheets for the girls if you ever wanna draw them, btw!