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#and now i have to tag all these people ack
tomshivbaby · 1 year
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succession + album covers
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Uh… oh
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cherubfae · 7 months
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carrying you to bed || hazbin/helluva x reader
With Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel Dust, Husk, Loona, & Blitzø
tags: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff
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Alastor
He lets out a deep sigh, staring down at you with slow blinks. "My love, surely that can't be comfortable for you" He has warned you time and time again not to spread yourself too thin with your tasks. Alastor appreciates how much of a good work ethic you have, but what is it worth if you don't have the strength to walk to your room? He picks you up as gently as he can, melding into shadow as he pops into your room. Carefully laying you down, Alastor will cover you up and with a gentle pat on your head before he takes his leave. Perhaps, next time he'll be tempted to rest beside you.
Lucifer
No wonder you hadn't answered him when he called your name. Here you were, fast asleep on his deep red chaise lounge using your folded arms as pillows. Lucifer picks you up bridal-style half-wishing you were awake so that you could see how strong he is! Another time, he thinks. Your rest is much more important than his ego (for now). "Sleep well, honey." He grins, wiggling beneath the sheets like an inch warm, his eyes sparkling with admiration. Placing a kiss to your head, Lucifer is quick to fall asleep.
Charlie
Honestly, she really does try her best not to squeal at the sight of you. You've been working insanely hard for the hotel-- it's no wonder you're so pooped out! She's careful with wiggling one arm beneath your back and hooking the other beneath your knees. She'll carry you to whichever room is closest: yours or hers. Maybe she'll be able to convince you to move into her suite soon. "Oh my gosh, aren't you just the cutest, honey?? I love you so much!"
Angel Dust
"Awww, sweets! Lookit ya! All tuckered out." He cooed in a hushed whisper, lightly booping your nose. His grin widens when it crinkles upwards. His middle set of arms pick you up, preferring to use his gloved ones to stroke back your hair softly. Leaning his cheek against your forehead, Angel carries you off to his room where an excited Fat Nuggets happily circles the bed in preparation for a lovely nap with his two favorite people.
Husk
Putting away the final glass beneath the bar's counter, his yellow eyes drift to your sleeping form at the end of the bar. You'd insisted on waiting for him to finish but all that work promoting the hotel on foot, searching for any sinners ready to be redeemed was a hard task. Husk fought back a smile. "You really do care about this stuff, dont'cha?" He asks despite knowing you won't answer. "Let's get ya to bed." Husk stretches his wings with a sigh before they fall slack. He lifts you into his arms and makes the trek up the stairs.
Blitzø
He'll bitch and groan about it, but he also won't let anyone else touch you when you're sleeping. Blitz will make some claims about how the person trying to touch you probably has cooties or a viral infection or something. Not happening. He's quick to scoop you up into his arms, eyes narrowed slightly, before scampering off to his room with you. "No, you don't get to fuckin' touch them with your gross unwashed hands, Moxxie-- yeah, that's right I saw you! We are living in post-Covid times, mister! Ack, no, leave 'em! I'll carry them just fine thank you!"
Loona
|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||
She smirks when she sees you. You look so sweet and cute, curled up into a ball. But that position can't be good on your spine, nor sleeping on Blitz's sad depression sofa. Loona bends down to lift you into her arms, pushing open her bedroom with her elbow and closing it shut with her foot. A nap with you sounded perfect. "You sure do look cute when you're tired, babe." She nuzzles your cheek with her nose.
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killerkillerkillher · 6 months
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Bound to Fall in Love
Angel/Demon! 141 x reader
Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish
Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n
A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.
minors dni!
"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."
"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."
You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.
For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.
"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.
"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"
"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.
"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.
"Read the book."
He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.
"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.
"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."
Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.
"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.
"Are you serious?"
"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.
"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.
The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.
It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.
If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.
Something in your gut tells you it's not.
In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.
"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.
"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.
Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.
"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.
"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."
There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.
"They're not dead." They say at the same time.
Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.
"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."
The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.
Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.
"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."
"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.
"Or the neck." The other devil offers.
"Or that vein in they're thigh."
"The sephenous, Johnny."
"Yeah, that."
"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!
"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.
"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."
Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.
"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."
"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"
"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."
You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.
"Rah 'ere?"
"Mhm."
You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.
"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.
"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.
Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.
"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"
Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.
"Do what we do best. Bargain."
"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."
"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."
There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.
"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"
"I didn't want-"
"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.
"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.
"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."
''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."
"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.
"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.
"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.
Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.
"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."
"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.
"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.
"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.
"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"
"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."
"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."
"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."
Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?
"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."
You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.
"Shit."
That's not good.
Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?
"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."
"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.
"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.
Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.
"Just you and us now, stud."
You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.
"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.
"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."
"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.
"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."
"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"
"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.
And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.
So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?
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wokelander · 2 months
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(TELL ME I’M YOUR) NATIONAL ANTHEM !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. president!leon, intern!reader, drug mentions, affair, cheating, smut, p in v sex, oral, blowjob, just general presidential gross behaviour
note. commission for @slovakbabe :33 sorry this is so late.. kept changing it ugh! ignore any typos / mistakes :3 feedback / rbs appreciated. inaccurate bc i’m british 💔 some details r taken completely from lewinsky-clinton case! like umm the dress duh.. and some of the trial talk! also the part w claire um! sorry the pov keeps switching oh my gosh!!! hope u like this and I hope it was worth the wait!!! tried to compress the plot to make it fit into the word limit so if it sounds jumpy excuse me… readers personality changed ack..
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God bless America, and God fucking bless nepotism.
You don’t know a thing about environmental quality, your carbon footprint is far bigger than your So Kates and it’s not something you’ve ever been concerned about. Dad was an advisor to whoever was in office twenty years ago and his last name takes you further than your English degree ever has.
The lady in charge of interviews tells you that you have a ‘good face’ and that must mean something. When you get the call a few weeks later you’re not surprised. Now your parents have something to gush over at soirées and afternoon tea parties - their girl is interning at the White House.
“He’s a liar, a total liar, you know, I don’t think he even knows what he’s doing, he reads off a script twenty-four-seven.” Claire can’t even pretend to be happy, she struggles to look at you when you drop the news over brunch.
“I mean he’s the President, Claire, lying is like his job,” you say to her, checking out your pores in your compact mirror, “and he’s hot, have you seen him in that Vogue photoshoot? The nineties one?”
“Yeah.” Her bottom lip juts out. “He’s also a sex pest, they just put whoever's got the most statutory rape allegations against them in office, the people’s vote doesn’t even count.”
“Jesus, he’s not that bad, Claire.” You stand up, dusting the crumbs off your lap and leaving a tip on the table.
“He knows Epstein.” Claire takes a moment to stand, but she follows when you start to walk away.
“Yeah, but not that Epstein, Claire.” In all honesty, you don’t know much about President Kennedy other than his sexual escapades, you know a lot about those. You know about his affair with Ashley ‘America’s Sweetheart’ Graham, and you know what she was wearing when they got caught by the media.
Graff earrings that weighed 52.55 carats each, you wonder how many children died digging out those white diamonds, a yellow cap-sleeve dress and white closed-toe pumps, four inches tall. She towered over him in the photos the same way his wife does.
“How many Epstein's are there?” She’s so intense, you feel the heat of her anger when your arm brushes hers.
“A lot, and not all of them are Jeffrey’s.” You turn to face her, giving her a smile in hopes of settling her down. “Now, I’m going to powder my nose in the ladies’ room and you’re going to wait out here, and when I come back you’ll be calm, ‘kay?”
When you return she’s not calm, and she’s not calm for the following week, but she wishes you good luck over the phone on Monday morning and it’s because Claire could never stay mad at a pretty girl.
You put on your best (read: shortest) dress, within regulations of course, you’re not looking to get fired on your first day, but you are looking to turn a certain head.
Your peers are dressed comfortably, to say the least, well, as comfortable as business wear can be.
Poor sartorial taste is always an indicator of wealth. The girl to your left might be a Harvard graduate, but if that tacky brooch says anything it’s that she came from a blue-collar neighbourhood. Her bouclé jacket is obviously thrifted and flats? Seriously? Ballet pumps in the White House must be a dress code violation.
The rumpled shirt of the boy directly in your eye line has got to be the biggest fashion faux pas you’ve seen like ever—Well, your sister wore white after Labour Day, and a chunky statement necklace a decade too late.
Smarts can only take you so far, but looks are everything. The clean-cut elegance of a Louboutin, a timeless red lip, and a nice ass in a tight skirt. Oh, you’ll be going places for sure.
(The second floor of the White House perhaps.)
Your superior, Helena, gets it. She’s tall and that always helps. Immaculately dressed in tailored pinstripe trousers, they’re not quite ankle-swingers, but short enough to show off her sleek boots.
Man, you should’ve gone to fashion school.
When everyone stands, smoothing the creases in their clothes, girls using their thumbs to clean the lipstick from the corners of their mouths - you’re a beat late, too many eyesores taking up the space in your head.
But there’s nothing for you to fix, you already look perfect, so you stand pretty while they tremble in ill-fitting dresses.
The camera adds ten pounds, President Kennedy is all the more handsome in the flesh. That face says Italian love affair, but you know that dick is American as apple pie.
His wife is close by his side, their arms looped in a show of sanitised intimacy. Sophistication is dead and gone, pillbox hats and pearls are out, Ada Wong is more seedy sex dungeon worker than Jackie O. It’s admirable really, you’ve got to have guts to dress like the mistress.
President Kennedy makes his way down the line of interns, and then, he pauses in front of you, close enough to smell his cologne. His eyes follow the clean lines of your outfit, and then he grips your hand too tight.
It’s when you’re mingling an hour later after your introductory session, Helena approaches you in her usual composed manner, and very simply says, “Be careful around him.”
“Who?” You ask though you know exactly who she means.
“Leon.” The informality takes you off guard, her brows furrow like his name is sour on her tongue.
“Oh.” You pretend to take this in, but you’ll suck dick to break the glass ceiling, you’d risk the Kennedy curse for that man. “I mean, I’ll try to be careful, but I have to be in his good books.”
Helena’s lips form a thin line. “Trying isn’t good enough.”
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“Big day ahead of you.” Ada sits on the end of the bed, fully clothed to the detriment of Leon’s dick. A non-existent sex life is a side effect of marriage he hopes scientists are working on daily to find a cure for.
“Isn't every day a big day?” If it’s not constant meetings and putting false hope in the heart of every American, it’s brunch with world leaders and dinner with the Pope where cocaine is served under a cloche.
“Hm.” She places her teacup down, gliding towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders. “Nice tie.”
“I know,” Leon says absentmindedly, scraping the powder beneath his nails out, a makeshift French manicure, “It’s Armani.”
“And not custom-made?” She pinches his cheek, gentle in the way only a paring knife could be. Leaves a wound that won’t ache until he notices it in the mirror later. “You’re slacking, Mr. President.
“And you’re exasperating, Ada.”
“Wow.” Ada’s brows shoot up into her hairline. “That’s a big word.”
“Yeah, I’ve been learning.” Leon sniffs as she looks him over with practised attraction.
“Aw, just so you can be mean to me?”
“You know it, beautiful.”
The only good thing about today is the interns. Fresh meat. Leon’s a cat person, he likes cougars and sex kittens, and he’s sure there’ll be plenty to pick from. Older women are easy to please and younger ones are easy to charm, the moment he steps into that room, getting his dick wet is the main priority.
Hunnigan doesn’t have to know that he doesn’t really care about where these girls graduated from. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton. They’ve all got pussies and that’s what matters.
Leon makes his way down the line like it’s a pageant show.
Too short, too shy, too tall, too thin, too fat, straight up ugly.
And then there’s you. Put together, smiling at him all coy like you want him. Girls like Ashley don’t ask for it, they beg for it—You look like you know what you’re here for, you don’t need to beg ‘cause he likes you already.
Leon gets the chance to talk to you an hour later, Helena shoulders past him as he approaches, Hunnigan a few steps behind him. He hopes Helena didn’t say anything in bad taste. In her words, Leon is a ‘Napoleonic little fuck’ and if it wasn’t for the pay, she’d want nothing to do with him. She’s not his biggest fan, so he prays she hasn’t fucked it up for him before he even got a chance.
“So, how old are you?” Leon asks brashly, his mouth twitches upwards when you tilt your head to the side and challenge him with your gaze alone.
“I’m legal if that’s what you’re after, Mr. President.” You could tie his balls together like cherry knots with a sharp tongue like that.
“How legal?” Fucking legal? Drinking legal? Voting legal?
“Very legal, Mr. President, I wouldn’t get you into any trouble or anything.” Your smile is cheeky, and your eyes glint, you’re trouble from head to toe.
“I don’t need you to get me in trouble.” Leon smiles back at you, that skirt is so fucking tight, he wonders if he could get you out of it.
“Mr. President,” Hunnigan warns, her wooden face seems to come to life, a small frown gracing her lips.
“Don’t be jealous, baby, you know I love you and only you.” Leon takes her hand, kissing her fingers until she snatches it back. He catches you laughing into your palm.
See? Easy to charm.
“Mr. President.” His final warning.
“I’m joking.” Leon’s face softens when you slip past her into the crowd, hates to see you go, loves to watch you walk away.
“You need to work on your jokes, Mr. President.” Ada grabs his shoulder from behind and he’s chilled to his core. Jesus. She’s so fucking scary sometimes. “I think you’re having a midlife crisis, they’re getting younger by the second, we should get you a shrink, Leon.”
“Yeah, okay, Ada, you can stop trying to pimp me out.” He’s eye level with her today. She’s opted for a shorter pair of heels, less threatening.
“Pimp you out?” She scoffs, “I just don’t want to be bailing you out, Leon.”
“Don’t need to be bailed out.” Leon shrugs. “I’m the President.”
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Being an intern, Helena tells you and the rest of your peers, it means you won’t get to brush shoulders with the President as much as you probably hoped. He doesn’t visit often. He’s busy—
But he comes every day like the sun.
He pretends to be interested in the environment, whatever it is that you’re meant to be doing, but Leon might be the biggest private jet offender yet.
You notice the agitation that crosses Helena’s face anytime he intrudes, it passes a moment later, back to her usual impassivity by the time he sticks his nose in your business.
“Merely interested,” Mr. President claims like he wasn’t looking down your shirt. “Just passing by,” he says when he places a hand on your shoulder and lets it linger.
He never goes further, and it drives you crazy. He’s the fucking President, he could get away with groping you in public, he could make you get on your knees right now and he’s holding back.
Being the President and all, you suppose he's immune to flattery, and that’s alright. You’re immune to diamonds and fast cars and designer dresses. Been there, done that. You won’t be swayed so easily, you don’t want his money, you want his dick and a little piece of his heart, a mention in his will, the key to the Kennedy estate.
You want to go down in history, any publicity is good publicity, you live and die by that. Weighing up the options, you decide playing hard to get is what might work best—He’s already got everything, and he already wants you, you know he does, but you’re going to take that away from him.
No more peeking down your blouse, no more wandering hands and no more flirting. You’re cutting him off, cold turkey. Like, yeah, hypothetically President Kennedy could get any girl he wanted, but he most certainly won’t be getting you, and every man wants what he can’t get.
By the end of the week, he’ll want to break you in like a pair of new dress shoes, he’ll be eating out the palm of your hand, and maybe your pussy from the back.
It works like a charm.
“You’re avoiding me,” Mr. Kennedy says, free of his security detail as he corners you in the hall, his nose brushing yours, eyes wide and desperate—It’s only been a week.
“What makes you think that, Mr. President?” You feign disbelief, placing a dainty hand over your heart. His eyes catch the light like a cats, a crescent of white eclipsing the blue.
“Leon,” he corrects, the usual smarmy smile wiped off his face, “say it.” His hand cups the underside of your chin, tilting it upwards.
You pretend to falter, gazing over his shoulder with glassy eyes like uttering his name is too much for a mere intern like you. It’s not, it’s really not.
“Leon…” You repeat back to him slowly, like you’re new to this planet and you’ve never heard the name outside of his utterance.
Slowly, Leon draws back, hands dropping to his side as he looks down at his shiny shoes. “Don’t… Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“All shy, it don’t suit you.”
“Oh.” So he knows what you were doing. Maybe you’re not as smart as you thought.
His hands ghost over your body, and he asks if you’ll meet him after dark. You’re an opportunist, so you accept and find yourself doing overtime in the Oval Office.
He’s gentler than you expect, cradling your face as he rocks his hips into you. You don’t kiss on the first date, but you’ve never been opposed to some fun. Leon’s head drops to rest on your shoulder, you wonder while you pass a hand over his hair if the Barbie blond is natural or a personal choice.
This is terribly boring, you thought there’d be something exciting about fucking in the Oval Office, but you find yourself more interested in the interior design. Could use a column or two, ionic or Doric or whatever.
Oh gosh is that a photo of his mom—And his wife is a given, oh and Ashley Graham is there too, is that even allowed? He doesn’t have kids, thank god.
Leon finishes on your stomach, then he twists to face the closed golden drapes - a sight you’ve only ever seen on the silver screen. Like clockwork, he plucks the mini flag from his desk and uses it like a handkerchief, wiping his cum from your stomach.
Planting his seed in American soil, you guess.
His body trembles with aftershocks in your hold, and he offers a weary smile. “Was it… Was it good?” Leon’s eyes shift, he can’t hold your gaze as he tucks his limp dick into his slacks.
Awaiting your answer, he toys with the buttons on his shirt like a child looking for comfort in what they’re used to, that nervous look is out of place on his face.
“Of course it was good,” you lie, smoothing down your skirt, “you’re the President.” You don’t step into your heels yet, instead letting him revel in the inch or so he has on you, kissing his protruding collarbone.
That brings him to his senses, Leon’s chest puffs as he nods like it’s all coming back to him, his arrogance. “Right, yeah, I am.”
Before you leave, Leon takes your wrist in his hand, his nails look manicured. He’s got the nose for cocaine so you don’t put it past him. “Same time tomorrow?”
You smile at him sweetly. “Of course.”
Duh. You haven’t got a legacy out of him yet, nobody knows your name outside of your social circle and that’s not enough. Nice cars, colonial mansions—It’s not enough, you don’t need what you already have. When disposable income is all you know, when money grows in your backyard, it’s nothing about that. You won’t be done until you’ve run him into the ground.
Sure, you’re two yachts and a beach house in Miami rich, but you’re not the First Lady. You could boss around a maid or two, get a server fired when you go out to eat, but you don’t have world leaders rolling out red carpets for you to walk on when you land.
Honestly, if you weren’t so concerned with your figure, you’d think about poking a couple holes in the rubber—If that dick even works right.
A week later, you have him kissing your ankles while they dangle over his shoulders, the wet sound of his balls slapping your ass and strained moans as he tries to keep it down filling your ears.
Again, nothing to write home about, his tip barely manages to knock your cervix as he fucks into you with all he’s got, panting into your mouth while you kiss him. You gave up on faking it a couple of days in, you’ve a very good liar, but not a great actor.
You find that your disinterest gets him going, he sees it as a challenge, Leon takes pride in making you do as little as sigh when he thumbs your clit with deft fingers.
“Fuck, wait, I’m gonna—“ His eyes are lidded, staring at you expectantly while his hips stutter, dick pulsing inside of your slick cunt, his tip is wetter than you are. “Can I?”
“Yeah, sure.” You give him the green light and he spills inside of you, it trickles out, dribbling back down his shaft and leaving a residue on the underside of your ass. “I didn’t finish,” you tell him, unsticking your thighs from the glossy wood so you can shift back and spread your legs wide.
Slowly but surely, Leon gets the hint, slightly flustered by how straightforward you’re being. His thumbs part your pussy lips, tongue licking up the centre of your cunt, eating his cum out of your wet hole. You place a hand on the back of his head, pushing him into you, his nose bumps your clit and you gasp.
Oh god, why is his nose more talented than he is? You feel Leon’s fingers push into you, two to keep you happy, curling upwards as his lips latch onto your clit. You cum on his tongue, toes curling in your shoes, it’s pleasant and nothing more, like sun-warmed water lapping at your toes.
Leon moves to kiss you, his pink lips wet with your pussy, you want him to go home and kiss his wife with that mouth, you want him to wear your scent in place of his cologne. Your pussy is super prestigious, costs way more than Tom Ford.
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Foxes are nifty little things - sometimes they come in the form of young girls with nice asses.
You’re pissing him off.
Nice car, wow, Mr. President! My dad has one parked in the garage, but we haven’t used it in a while. It's too loud, disturbs the neighbours. Oh, Leon, you shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have, I don’t wear yellow diamonds, haven’t you heard of colour theory? They so don’t suit my undertones. Wow, Mr. Kennedy! You were in an episode of Friends once thirty years ago? Oh, gosh, you played Joey’s distant Italian cousin? That’s so crazy, my mom and Jennifer Aniston work out together every Tuesday!
Nothing’s enough, and that’s never been a problem for Leon. Even girls who have everything, Ashley Graham to name one, swoon over classic cars and ball gowns and him. They go crazy over him, but you’re using him as a stepping stool for something else. What else? What more could you want?
Leon might be fucking stupid when it comes to politics, he doesn’t know what to say without prompts, he doesn’t know shit about Guam or Penamstan or much at all—But he’s not dumb, you’re using him, and he’s letting you use him. Walking all over him in six-inch pumps, leaving your lipstick on his collar like you own him, sucking his dick so damn good he can't get rid of you.
You’re like a bed bug. A really hot bed bug. You’re also young, but his cock doesn’t care for morals or ethics and it never really has. Dick wants what the dick wants.
He isn’t going to be stupid this time—You don't want to be impressed so Leon won’t waste time buying you jewellery you consider old fashion, no need to take you for spins in vintage cars, you just want him. He gets it - everyone likes him.
“You’ve never taken me home,” you tell him one night, the white hotel sheets draped over your naked body, angel wings or a shrouded corpse, he's not quite sure.
“There’s nothing interesting at home.” Leon’s bottom lip juts out, preening when you scratch under his chin.
“Doesn’t have to be interesting.” You’re buttering him up with kisses. “You like me, right, Leon?”
“I guess so.” He grunts when you give him a swift elbow in the gut. “I’m kidding, of course I like you.”
“Then why don’t you want to take me home?” Your greed is so violent it grows teeth, he feels your nails digging into his skin.
He gives you one look. “You should know your place.” In my life, at work. An intern and a mistress.
You’re not one to back down. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” Leon says quickly, fuck, man, you’re scary. Ada isn’t scary, she’s just a bitch, in a hot way—You’re, like, mean. You boss him around and for some reason, he listens. Jesus Christ, isn’t the power imbalance meant to go the other way around?
“I want to come home with you,” you beg, but it’s not really begging, it's an instruction, “I want to sleep in your bed, don’t you like me?”
“I do like you, baby,” he insists, sighing softly when you take your hands off of him, he still feels the sting of your nails on his back, “I like you a lot, you think I treat anyone else like this?”
“Yeah, I bet you do this to every girl.” When it’s just the two of you, when he gets you bare like this, your age shows.
“Not true,” he scoffs.
(Obviously, that’s true.)
“Okay, so then if I’m sooo special, you should take me home.” God, you’re gonna ask him to dump his wife next. This is the problem with rich kids, they’re as entitled as he is. “It’s not like you have kids.”
Leon’s carelessness is lined with caution. He’ll take a mistress or two, but he won’t take that home. That’s something you do outside of the marriage bed. But you’re a kid, you wouldn’t know that, this is probably the first time you’ve fucked a married man, let alone the President.
“It doesn’t work like that, baby,” he tries carefully, pinching your cheek, “you’re a smart girl, you should know better.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m not a kid.” It’s spoken like an accusation, his fingers lose all dexterity when you push him away.
“I know, baby, but you’re being a little selfish right now, you know that?” Comforting you is a balancing act, he flicks through a Rolodex of tactics in his head. He lands on making you feel small. Guilt-tripping doesn’t work on girls who are spoiled rotten, begging just makes you feel like the shit. “It’s not just about you here, is it?”
When you don’t answer, he continues. “If I took you home, I’d put everything at stake, I know you know that.” Leon pulls you apart like orange segments while you turn his mind into your personal playground—It’s a fair trade.
You turn over quietly and he knows he’s won.
It goes on for a month, and then two, and then three and then more—Leon finds himself wondering when it’s time to introduce you officially as his side piece. Unofficially, most insiders know, but the press hasn’t picked up on it yet. If Ada knows she says nothing about it - she lets him be quietly awful.
Your duties with Helena dwindle and he finds you under his desk more often than not, lips stretched around his cock, your lipstick smeared on his shaft.
Leon slaps his dick against your cheek and you jump, shoulders up near your ears.
“Don’t do that.” You pop off his cock to scold him, the wet of your mouth engulfing him a moment later, head bobbing as you take him to the hilt.
“Sorry,” he nearly whines, lips parting when you mouth along his dick, licking the seam of his sac when you reach the base.
Your hand works his cock while you suck on his heavy balls, leaving your red kisses all over him, he’ll watch them run down the drain when he showers. He feels your teeth graze his sensitive skin and the knot in his lower belly snaps, seed spurting from his leaky tip and landing on your cute red blouse in white ribbons. You kind of look like a red velvet cake.
“Oh fuck, Leon!” You knock your head on the desk when you get up, rubbing the forming bump with a groan as you dab at the stain on your shirt with a tissue.
“I’m sorry, you surprised me!” He makes no move to help ‘cause when he does try you only seem to get more agitated at him.
“Fuck, just—How am I supposed to go home like this?” The stain is pretty much cemented, that shit is potent, goddamn.
“You can take my jacket,” Leon offers, ever the gentleman.
“Right, and let everyone find out?” You raise a brow at him.
“Thought that’s what you wanted anyway,” he huffs.
“I do, but not like this,” you groan, missing the trashcan when you toss the clump of wet tissues, “I want to be caught doing something romantic, or just glamorous, not with your fucking dick in my mouth.”
“Oh, baby,” Leon coos, “but you’ve always got my dick in your mouth.”
“Shut up, Leon, oh—Whatever, just, I’m leaving, okay? Don’t call me tonight.” You grab your handbag from his desk, heels click-clacking as you exit, a very proud and noticeable stain on your right tit. He likes that one better.
Leon doesn’t call you, he finds himself away on foreign business, swept up by presidential duties for once and too busy to answer any calls that aren’t to do with work. He’s in Paris overseeing whatever Hunmigan told him to oversee when the news breaks. He never sees your voicemails until they come to him in the form of transcripts.
Leon, oh god, I’m sorry—I’m sorry for being a bitch last week, but can you please call me back? It’s important.
Leon? I’m sorry, can you call me back? It’s really important, I’m—I’m not fucking around, I promise. It’s just that, oh god, Leon, I really messed up, I can’t believe… I don’t want you to hate me for this, I know you’re mad at me, but please can you answer? They didn’t let me in today, they said you were away and—I told them who I was, that I worked there, I gave them Helena’s name and they still, Leon they didn’t let me in. I thought they knew about us.
Leon, I can’t—I need you to answer me, I feel like I’m talking into thin air, can you please just call me back, please, Leon? It’s urgent. I fucked up, I just need you to answer me so we can fix this, I fucked up so bad and I’m sorry, Leon—I was, I was stupid, but I can fix it if you just answer me. I love you a lot, Leon, please answer me.
I didn’t mean to call her, Leon, I didn’t—I mean, she’s my friend, I tell her everything and I wasn’t thinking. I was just upset, I just wanted to talk to someone about it, I didn’t know she would—I didn’t know she would do that to me. I didn’t fucking know, I just wanted to talk to somebody, I just—Please, don’t be mad at me, Leon.
I was frustrated, I told her about the shirt, why I got mad at you—I didn’t think anything of it, I tell her everything so I didn’t think it would be—I mean, she was acting weird, I was gonna take the shirt to be dry-cleaned after you fucked it up, but she told me I looked fat in it and that’s so—Leon, that’s so weird of her to say, Claire would never say that to me and I was fucking thinking at the time, that’s so weird, she would never say anything like that to me—Shit, and she even said it weird, y’know? Like it hurt her to say it, and I fucking just left it in the back of my closet, I don’t know why, she just got in my head about it ‘cause she’d never say anything like that and I was so confused. Oh fuck. God. I really love you, Leon, like, a lot. Call me back, it’s urgent, please don’t do this to me.
The press conference is held two weeks later, and surprisingly, you don’t show your face or make a fuss. He thought you’d cause a riot, that you’d sell that blouse for millions, get it DNA tested, ruin his life in a few seconds. It might be shame or heartbreak, Leon doesn’t know.
He wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks. From beside him, Hunnigan gives him a slight nudge. “You call her a woman, not a girl, is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
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“I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” he says, posed up in front of an American flag like a pinup girl, “I want you all to listen to me, I’m gonna say this again, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” He’s distinctly handsome on your flatscreen TV.
This man is full of nothing but his own prick.
How could you be so stupid? You should’ve kept it strictly business, but of course, you wanted more, you always want more.
While you suppress the urge to cry, your mom places a hand on your shoulder. “No use crying over spilt milk, honey,” she hums, going back to her fashion magazine a moment later.
But it is, he ruined that blouse, and you love that blouse. Not to mention you’re a laughing stock. You’re not the First Lady, you’re just some crazy bitch who lied about fucking the President.
It’s not fair, he gets to come away with everything intact, you’re the one who loses everything. Your internship, Claire, respect, everything. It’s all coming undone. All that dick you sucked landed you nowhere, and he—He just gets off scot-free.
You need to take him down.
Leon was smart enough to leave no evidence, he rarely messaged, he only called and call logs alone are never enough to prove anything. You’ve got all those gifts, but that means nothing to anyone, you can’t prove who got them.
Oh.
What got you in this mess in the first place is bound to get you out of it.
You ask Daddy to get you a good lawyer and you open up your case against Leon Scott Kennedy. DNA testing is on your side, the results tell the nation that it is in fact his American seed on your blouse and that their President is a sex fiend who likes to break young girls with bright dreams and promising futures.
Which, of course, isn’t true, you knew what you were getting into, but you’d happily lie to get the last word. To wipe the smile off his smug fucking face. You still want to fuck him, you still like him a lot. He sticks to you in an unpleasant way, like his cum.
“He’s on TV again,” your sister lets you know, and you lift your head from a court document to watch your ex-boyfriend fumble his way through a thorough grilling.
Leon dodges questions well, but you can tell he’s getting nervous. His fingers twitch and his blinking becomes more rapid. “Uh, what qualifies as sexual relations?” He tries to throw them off with his stupidly hot smile, his dimples and white teeth and pretty eyes when he knows damn well that being balls deep in your pussy is a sexual fucking relation.
“She wanted me,” he says finally, and Hunnigan closes her eyes like she knows it’s over, running her hand over her face as Leon undoes a lifetime of her work, “she wanted me, who was I to say no—As an American man, it’s my duty to listen to our women.”
Oh, he’s so fucking screwed. Why did you fuck such an idiot? You should’ve gone for an actor instead.
Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.
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President Leon S. Kennedy
July 19, 2024.
KENNEDY:
Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans, good evening.
Today, I’m standing here to take complete responsibility for all my actions, public and private. I’m here to admit to a personal failing, an indiscretion, that has hurt my family, colleagues, and the American people.
It is with great regret that I admit to having an extramarital affair with [REDACTED]. This was a serious lapse in my judgement and a personal failure, one that has brought endless pain to those around me, it was never my intention to disappoint the ones I hold so dear.
As I told the grand jury today, at no time did I ask for evidence to be destroyed or hidden, at no time did I ask anyone to lie for my wrongdoings. This is not a moment for excuses or justification, my actions were wrong, plain and simple. I misled both the nation and my wife with my previous statements, I understand that it gave a false impression to those around me, and to those who trust me. I deeply regret that.
My actions have caused the nation pain and needless embarrassment, and for that, I am truly sorry.
I had concerns for my family and protecting their privacy, the independent counsel investigation moved onto staff, family members, friends of mine and it has gone on for too long.
Our country has been distracted by this matter for too long, and I committed to taking full responsibility for this transgression. Once again, I apologise and aim to reclaim my private life for my wife, friends and colleagues. It’s nobody’s business but ours.
I humbly ask for your understanding and patience as I strive to earn back the trust of my fellow people, of our God, and of those around me.
Our nation faces significant challenges that require my full dedication, I ask for us to turn away from this spectacle, to move forward to come together and focus on the tasks ahead, to remain united in our efforts to build a better tomorrow.
Thank you for watching. God bless America. And good night.
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yyokkki · 3 months
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Riddle Rosehearts
A former city boy who ran away from home after refusing to become a doctor like his mother was.
Actually works as a lawyer at a small firm in the nearest town. He commutes by car and it's only a 30 minute drive with minimal traffic (thank god cuz his road rage is abysmal) but he works remotely on most days.
Is often found at the town saloon (the community centre after you fix it!) holding tea parties with Trey, Cater, Ace and Deuce or at the local library.
Loved Gifts: Strawberry Tart, Fairy Rose, Ruby, Universal Loves
"...Oh! Ahem, thank you farmer. Expect a return gift in the mail soon."
Hated Gifts: Eel, Clay, Royal Sword Cola, Universal Hates
"Ugh! This is unacceptable!"
Trey Clover
The local baker! His family runs a bakery in the city and he moved to NRV on his own to open another branch of Clover's Confectionaries.
He says the fertile soil and rich foragables make it the perfect place to gather ingredients on his own.
Rumour has it he runs a backdoor business for specialty toothpastes.
Is often found at the town saloon serving his pastries for Riddle's parties or at his bakery tending to his mini garden at the back.
Loved Gifts: Limestone, Pearl, Candied Violets, Universal Loves
"Thanks farmer! How did you know I needed this? ...I don't owe you anything, right?"
For Limestone and Pearl: "This is perfect! Now, to extract the calcium carbonate..." (Yes, for toothpaste)
Hated Gifts: Broken Glasses, Mustard, Universal Hates
"Oh... Uh... Thanks?"
Cater Diamond
A social media influencer and former travel blogger.
Used to travel a lot but decided to settle at NRV. He claims it's because the scenery and people are 'cute'.
Occasionally will go to the city with Kalim and Lilia to perform and hold concerts.
Is in a band with Kalim and Lilia, plays the guitar.
Is often found at the town saloon with Riddle, Trey, Ace and Deuce or in the town square chatting up the other residents.
Loved Gifts: Spicy Ramen, Diamond, Universal Loves
"Aww, you shouldn't have! #lucky #cutefarmer"
Hated Gifts: Anything Sweet, Clay, Universal Hates
"Aww, thanks but no thanks. #lame"
Ace Trappola
The local carpenter! Stays at Night Raven Valley with his older brother who he learned all his tricks from (bad and good).
Loves causing trouble and playing harmless pranks on the other residents (Deuce is his biggest victim), good at magic tricks too.
Plays basketball on sunny Saturdays with Jamil and Floyd.
The first character you meet, who was assigned with fixing up Ramshackle Farm. Shit talks your farm right to your face and holds no remorse.
Is often found at the town saloon at Riddle's tea parties or at the back on the arcade machines.
Loved Gifts: Cherry Pie, Cherry, Royal Sword Cola, Universal Loves
"Dwoes the wittle farmer have a crush on me~ Ack, I'm kidding!"
Hated Gifts: Clay, Oyster, Universal Hates
"Gross! Do you hate me or something??"
Deuce Spade
The local mechanic/handyman! He's self taught and lives with his mom, Dylla Spade who handles the deliveries in town.
Used to be a delinquent but has since turned a new leaf.
His passion project is modding the hell out of his motorcycle and hitting the roads.
Goes on runs with Jack every sunny Wednesday.
Volunteers at the Adventurer's Guild and takes requests from the board for security as his goal is to become a full time officer in the future.
Is often found at the town saloon at Riddle's tea parties or at the back getting obliterated by Ace in Junimo Cart.
Loved Gifts: All Eggs (Except Void Egg), Omelette, Battery Pack, Universal Loves
"Farmer! I knew you were a real one!"
For Battery Pack: "Thanks dude! I needed this for the finishing touches..."
Hated Gifts: Void Egg, Juice (He drinks it, it just reminds him of Ace), Bell Pepper, Universal Hates
"Hah? Oh, I thought you were pickin' a fight..."
---
TWST x SDV Masterlist
Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)
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songsofadelaide · 3 months
Note
HII OMG EVER SINCE I FOUND OUT U TOO WERE A FILO I CANT HELP BUT THINK ABT HOSHINA TAMPUHIN MOMENTS WHERE READER IS EQUAL PARTS FOND AND EXASPERATED 😭😭😭 if its ok to request it i would like to request uhh how reader and hoshina deal with each others tampo moments HAHSHAHA and if possible it ends with fluff and just them being cute tgthr and rllllyyy weird req: u know how u get cuteness aggression…. this but w hoshina and he bites his partner’s cheeks 😭😭 OK BYE
ANON as a playful biter and someone who experiences a lot of gigil this is so cute loool! Here's your reminder to playfully bite your loved ones every once in a while. ✨
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cw: established relationship + playful biting
There were days when it felt like you and the Vice Captain were the only two people in the world. That was true at times, but perhaps the people at base were also getting better at gossiping much more quietly. Today was the former.
With the rookies now assigned to their respective platoons, and with most of them currently off-duty, it truly felt like you and the Vice Captain were the only two people in the world. (In the base, at least.) Your platoon's days off won't be until next week, so you and your crew ran the scene at the base, along with Vice Captain Hoshina, who just happened to be the person in charge at that time.
Everyone at the base knew of your relationship with the Vice Captain, especially your platoon, so they weren't entirely surprised by the pleasant coincidence that he definitely did not orchestrate.
"Vice Captain! You promised you'd have lunch with me today!"
Though if it was supposed to be a coincidence, that didn't sound like the case by the way you irritatedly evaded Soshiro's attempts at cornering you. You were excited all morning but it died out when you found out that the Vice Captain had lunch with your Operations Leaders.
It certainly was a treat for your platoon members to see their usually cool superior play catch and tag with you at the canteen, even though that wasn't exactly what you two were doing at the moment.
"I know you're only saying you already ate because you want me to get off your case!" You stated as you slid to the other end of a long table. "I want you to eat right!"
"But I have been eatin' right!" Soshiro replied as he tried to catch you from another end of another long table. The younger officers paid you no mind as they carried on with their meals, shaking their heads, chuckling and sighing to themselves because it was just another day at work.
"Coffee and sweets aren't a meal!" You shot back at him across the floor, another long table parting you from his reach.
"I said get over here! It's an order!" He paused in his tracks, only for you to be caught off-guard as he slid under the table and grabbed you by the ankle.
"You can't order me around today! Ack!—"
The dull thud as you hit the floor did not arouse any reaction from your officers, and you contemplated if you could even trust them with your life if they weren't even going to do anything about what was happening to you right now.
Then again, they were smart enough to recognise a playful lovers' spat...
The two of you sat on the floor, your Vice Captain holding you in a lock with his arms now, but the way he held you felt more like boyfriend than superior at present.
"There we go. Now that yer seated, we can finally talk."
"You're insufferable!" You squirmed in his arms, only for him to retaliate in a way that wasn't new but was totally unexpected given your current location.
Soshiro sank his teeth into your warm cheek, with just enough force to render you stiff in his embrace. It was a playful and loving little bite that still left a light ring in the shape of his mouth on your embarrassed visage.
"You BIT me! You bit me, you little shi—"
The sound of his tender and pleased laughter reverberated in your chest, the kind that made you forget all about why you were mad in the first place. "Uh-uh. You better watch whatever name you call me, my dearest Platoon Leader."
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✦ Thank you for requesting! Nothing makes me happier than writing a request I know I can work with. 🍹 You can read more about requesting here.
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7ndipity · 1 year
Text
Green-eyed Virus
Jin x Reader
Summary: Jin appreciatess your care and concern for his groupmates, but sometimes he can’t help but start to feel a little jealous.
Warnings: mentions of illness, teeny bit suggestive, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requsted this!
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
“Hey, babe.” Jin said, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he wandered into the kitchen, drawn by the comforting scent of home cooked food.
“Hi, Jinnie, did you have a good nap?” You said, noting the lingering drowsiness in his eyes.
“Mhm, whatcha making?” He tried to lean around you to swipe a taste from the pot you were stirring, but you were quick to swat his hand away.
“Ack, don’t touch! It’s for Joonie.” You said,
earning a frown from him.
Four days ago, while the group was traveling together for promotions, Namjoon had come down with a bad stomach bug and had to sit out several events. The guys had felt bad about having to leave him holed up at the hotel, pretty much on his own, other than the ocasional staff member coming by to check on him, but luckily you had offered to look after him and keep him company, having tagged along on the trip at Jin’s request(or more acurately, dramatic wailing that he couldn’t stand going two entire weeks without seeing you. “I’ll die! You have to come with me, please!”).
At the time, Jin had been more than grateful, his heart twisting in his chest at the care and tenderness you displayed towards his bandmates, but now that everyone was home, and Joon was on the mend, he couldn’t help begining to feel a little neglected by your continued doting on the younger member.
“Does he really still need your help?” He asked.
“What do you mean?” You turned to look at him, brow furrowing at his question.
“I’m just saying he’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.”
“I know that, I just want to make sure he’s got some good food to help him bounce back. Besides, you know what a terrible cook he is.” You replied, returning you attention to the stove.
When you received no further response, though, you glanced back over at where he leaned against the counter, taking in the slight pout that still lingered on his face. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He said flatly, avoiding your gaze.
“Jin.”
“I just-, I don’t know, don’t you think you’re going a little overboard for him? Honestly, people would think he’s your boyfriend instead of me.” He said, the last part coming out grumbled under his breath.
You whipped around to look at him fully. “What was that?”
He stopped, catching the slight edge in your voice. “Nothing.”
“No, you said something, what did you mean though?” You pressed, already having an inkling about what was going on in his head. Jin liked to believe that he wasn’t an easily jealous person, but you’d been with him long enough to know that wasn’t the truth, he just had the tendency to stuff it down and brood over it rather than adimit it. “Babe, we’ve been over this, If somethings bothering you, you need to say it.”
“I don’t like you spending all your time fussing over Namjoon,” He rolled off quickly. “It feels weird. You’re my partner, not his. And maybe it's selfish, but I just want your attention for me.”
“Okay, fine!” You attached yourself to his front, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. “Better?”
“Mmm.” He shrugged, sounding unsure.
“How about now?” You standing on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“Okay, maybe a little.” He caved, leaning down so you could better reach his face, sighing as you gave him another, less inocent kiss.
“I’m sorry for making you jealous. I didn’t think it would bother you so much.” You said.
“Don’t apologize, I shouldn’t have let it get to me.”
“How about this? We drop off this soup at Joons place, and then I’ll give you all the attention you want for the rest of the night?” You offered teasingly.
He looked away, trying to hide his growing smirk. “I guess that would be okay.”
“Just okay?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair, earning a small shiver from him.
“You know you really shouldn’t be rewarding this kind of behavour.” He mused.
“Why?” You asked.
“Because I sounded like a baby complaining that I’m not getting enought attention.”
“You’re my baby.” You said.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” You muttered, kissing him again. “You know you don’t have anything to be jealous of.”
“I know, I just missed you.”
“I’m right here, I’ll always be right here.” You promised him, cupping his jaw as you spoke, a sudden frown crossing your features as you felt how warm his skin was. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You’re kinda hot.”
He scoffed. “Thanks.”
“No, I mean I think you might have a fever.” You pulled away, looking at him worriedly. “Let me get the thermometer.”
“I’m fine.” He argued, to no avail.
He wanted you attention, he should’ve been careful what he wished for.
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byslantedlight · 5 months
Text
Hello OFMD Tumblr thingie, and all the amazing people who are out there, and especially the ones who've been making all the posts that have made me so happy over the last few months. 💖💖💖 First and most importantly, thank you, thank you, thank you, to anyone who sees this!
This is my first post to Tumblr (probably pretty obvious from my huge lack of Tumblr sophistication! And the length of this post...) If you don't count reblogging things that I wanted to be able to find again. I've braved up to comment thank you to people a couple of times, but that's been it so far. I must admit it all looks a bit scary from this side of the glass, even though I can also see how friendly people mostly are.
But OFMD fandom is big! And you've been here a long time! I loved Series 1 when I watched it, and knew I wanted to watch out for Series 2, but it wasn't until I re-watched it when the Series 2 trailer came out on BBC iPlayer that I fell veeeery in love with it! And by then you were already here, and there was a language and debates about things I'd barely even noticed, and it's mostly me staring with big eyes thinking wow, and sometimes huh? and... well, you know. Plus there's trying to work out Tumblr, which I definitely haven't actually managed to do yet, and possibly never will, so... I decided to just jump in and post summat. Even just rambling, which is a bit of a specialty of mine... I mean - what's the worst that can happen, right? 😬
So... how come now? Well, I can't make art or gorgeous screenshots or gifs. I do write, but I'm still hanging out to get the right voices in my keyboard... I know them when I hear them, but you've gotta get the right rhythm going, and I'm not quite there yet, I don't think. Although really, I should probably just sit down and try (and stop waiting for work to shut up and give me time - I should be a pirate and take it!)
Anyway (told you about the rambling...) what I'm mostly doing apart from rewatching the eps on a constant loop is reading the fic. I'm picking it according to kudos on AO3, and according to recs that I see on Tumblr, and it's occured to me that alot of the stories I'm loving must have been recced looong ago, and that newbies like me totally missed them, and so maybe I could do my own recs, even if they are of older stories, and someone might find them useful. You know, if I work out how anyone else might ever see my posts. 😁 And if people aren't put off by my probably age-revealing use of emojis. (But I am entirely age-appropriate for Ed and Stede, and if I had to look up what zaddy meant too, well, that just means I matched Rhys Darby's expression in the bts, right? 🤨)
So it's not much, but I'd like to contribute even just a tiny bit to OFMD fandom in return for everything it gives me, so... yeah. That's my plan. I'll start in a bit, but this post is probably already too long since it's just rambling. And kind of dull. I should probably have said tl:dr at the top, shouldn't I, but then maybe anyone who actually saw this wouldn't, so... See, I kind of live in hope. 😊
Okay. Tags next, right? ... ack ... why won't it let me create new tags instead of just using ones from the drop down...? Well, those will have to do for now... maybe someone who sees this will have mercy and tell me how? I'll just be over here being a slight failure at Tumblr... And if you've made it this far (how long is an acceptable post over here?! Not this long, I don't think...) - thank you hugely for just that, and may your dreams be OFMD and joyous!
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rottenpumpkin13 · 9 months
Note
I like how your blog is basically The Office But Make It Crisis Core
good ideal lol
The Office, But Make It Crisis Core
[Sephiroth's Confessional]
Sephiroth: I really do enjoy working at Shinra. It's a professional environment where everyone works well together, and I like every single one of my colleagues.
[The camera cuts to the 49th floor's main entrance, where Genesis and Sephiroth are actively having a fist fight and screaming at each other]
-
[Genesis's Confessional]
Genesis: Oh, I love working here. It's a workplace where I'm adored by all. Everyone respects me and appreciates my poetic talent.
[The camera cuts to Genesis sitting on a chair in the cafeteria. He has a megaphone and his copy of LOVELESS in hand]
Genesis: When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky. Wings of⏤ACK!
*Angeal's boot flies at his head and knocks him out of his chair*
-
[Zack's Confessional]
Zack: Hey what's up I'm Zack! And my favorite thing to do when I'm not kicking ass on the battlefield is to scare people.
[The camera cuts to Zack hiding behind a corner wearing a Professor Hojo mask. Sephiroth walks around the corner]
Zack: BOO! OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW.
*Sephiroth took one look at the mask and resorted to violence*
-
[Angeal's Confessional]
Angeal: I don't know why everyone is afraid of dreams and honor.
[The camera cuts to Angeal sneaking up on Zack when he's taking a nap in the break room]
Angeal: DREAMS AND HONOR!
*Zack screams like a woman and flings himself off the couch*
-
[Lazard's Confessional]
Lazard: Do I regret taking this job? Of course not! The key to maintaining level-headed is to be patient with my SOLDIERs.
[The camera cuts to Genesis walking into Lazard's office]
Genesis: Director, may I⏤
Lazard: WHAT? WHAT IS IT NOW YOU WRETCHED GREMLIN? IS IT A REQUEST? IS IT THE FOURTH, EXPENSIVE COFFEE MACHINE YOU'VE BROKEN AGAIN? IS RELATED TO LOVELESS? WHAT IS IT? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME??
Genesis: Zack and Sephiroth were playing tag in the vents and now they're stuck right above the president's office.
Lazard: FUCK *he runs out*
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wayfayrr · 1 year
Text
I've been on a little bit of a first kick recently - so here's a first meeting of reader and him based on this piece of the dolls au by @ovegakart (this amazing comic piece in particular) and on the topic of tagging people I've got some new friends on discord who have a love of first so consider this a gift <3 @fanfic-fairy-fountain @dreaming-of-lu @angry-trashcan @neverchecking <333 enjoy!
[masterlist]
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“Hello..? Time… Sky… Link? Is anyone there?”
As if being forced into Hyrule wasn’t bad enough when I was with the chain, now that cursed shadow decides to push it even further by separating me from them? Why not just kill me outright… Is it to try to give the heroes hope? Wouldn’t it be worse for them for it to kill me outright than string them along with false hope?
“IS ANYONE HERE? HELLO??”
Where even am I? It looks like… Oh. Alone in catacombs, yeah if there’s anywhere to be killed by a malicious shadowy entity it would be in catacombs. Are there going to be redeads here?  If the rest of the monsters are anything to go off of it’s going to be much worse dealing with them now. They can’t handle sunlight though, can they? 
Then that means the pile of rubble in the centre here should be the safest place for me to think through the best way to handle all of this. If the shadow really wants to get to me then of course that won’t stop it but I have to try something right? Is sitting on top of what looks like a grave a little disrespectful? Yes. Do I have many options at the minute? No.
“-Wait-!”
WHY IS THE GRAVE SLIDING OPEN - WHAT WAS THAT!? WHY DOES IT SOUND LIKE SOMEONE IS YELLING?? 
“What… happened? Where is this place?”
I think without a doubt the sound I’ve just made is the most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever let out and - WHY IS HE COVERING MY MOUTH!?
“I’m sorry I know you’re confus- ACK.”
Was biting him the right option? Probably not! But it’s the only thing I could think of to do seeing as well, I'm not exactly calm at this moment in time. Despite the fact that this man has known me for, what, the span of less than a minute, he seems to have at the very least noticed my panic. Backing off like you would with a scared animal - do I really look that petrified? It’s taking everything in me now to not give into my racing heart. 
“I’m sorry, I must’ve overstepped your boundaries. But please can you not be so loud?”
“....”
“... yeah. Yeah I can be a bit quieter”
“So you uhhh-”
Where do I even start - this man just - He just crawled out of a grave. What do you even respond to that with??? 
“...You come round here often?”
[name]. [name] what the heck was that. That's how you flirt with someone at a bar not speak to a living corpse.
“No, I don’t really?”
“Yeah, I figured. I -”
“Are you alright?”
“Look I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I was separated from my group and dropped here then you- You crawled out of a grave and now I’m just?? I’m just stressed and this is only things that have happened today. Now I know that you’re probably more stressed for obvious reasons, but I’m just - I’m sorry for screaming.”
He took a step closer to me at that, not trying to be intimidating, but more cautious. Asking for permission to touch me with an invitingly open outstretched arm, one that seemed to promise some sort of salvation from all the stress I’ve been feeling. One that I was embarrassingly quick to accept. His touch - His hold, is so warm for someone who should really be so cold, there’s definite comfort in feeling his heart beating as well something that proves he’s alive. It didn’t last for long though, as he pulled himself away, reluctantly if I were being bold in how I was to describe it. His fingers lingered, resting on my arm in such a teasingly wanting way. He’s definitely a link thats for sure, that helps me to be more comfortable around him than I would have been with anyone else. He looks like he’s about to start crying.
I - oh god I’m the first person he’s seen since he came back to life. 
“Are you alright link?”
Was that the wrong thing to say? He hasn’t introduced himself to me,  I shouldn’t have said that. It seems like now it’s his turn to look confused - more so than he already was. 
“you how do you know my name?”
“I just guessed, the group I was with before they - well they all looked similar and went by the same name ‘link’ so I just assumed it was the same with you. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“No it doesn’t.” Why is he reaching for my face? He’s got such a soft look on his face, do I remind him of someone? He’s been dead so it could be possible I guess, but it feels like there’s more to how he said it than just something that simple. 
“Oh my dearest love...”
His hands are so soft… it’s hard not to just lean into his touch and stay there, but there are more important things to be dealing with right now. As much as I’d prefer to not have these questions answered. 
“What do you mean by that link? I don’t - I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
He’s so warm, I hate the fact that he’s most likely going to stop holding me when he realises I’m not the person he’s really ever going to want in a relationship. 
“You haven’t but, I can already tell that you’ll be my beloved soon enough.”
“I’m sorry? We’ve only just met how can you tell s- ACK”
This has to just be a link thing. What is it that makes them fall so quickly? But to hold someone so tightly when you've only just met them - when you’ve only just come back from death?  That doesn’t seem like a healthy thing for him, not in the slightest. 
Is my shoulder wet?
Why would it be wet - he was tearing up earlier and - no there it is he’s sniffling as if he’s trying his hardest not to cry. Even if he’s mildly delusional how cruel would you have to be to not help someone go through something as tough as this clearly is. It’s not hard to gently rub his back as he cries onto me, it’s not hard to hum to him as he clutches me like a lifeline, it’s not hard to be here for him when I have to do so little for him. 
“Link? Would you like to talk about it? I don’t know you but - but I’ll be here to listen to you.”
“Thank you. It’s simply that I - I don’t know why or how I got here, It’s simply that I woke up in there after everything then I saw you -”
“[name]”
“[name] and well you know what has happened since. I have to thank you for being here though, there’s something about you, some kind of energy that just feels like a part of myself that I lost. You feel like home to me [name]”
With that last sentence, he burrows his head even further into my neck seeking what I can only guess is comfort. He’s probably just desperate for another person's touch right now, rather than him having fallen in love with me from the briefest interaction that didn’t even go that well.   There’s no harm in waiting here with him for a moment though. What could go wrong in this amount of time?
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chocodile · 26 days
Note
Hello, I just wanted to say I am amazed by the depth of lore and character you've created surrounding the giant rabbit Hyden and the other characters in that universe. Are you posting these images as part of a larger comic? Are they illustrations based on excerpts from a novel you're working on? It's hard for me to piece everything together from the captions. Basically I'm saying I'm super invested in this story and I would love to see the entire book or graphic novel or whatever that puts all these pieces together. Does that exist/will it exist?
Thank you!
-Ondy
I'm totally answering this way to late, BUT! Since Kwillow and I have gotten a number of questions asking similar stuff so I'm gonna use your ask as an opportunity to answer...
There is no single big novel or comic (at least not at the moment, we're working on finishing other projects first!), it's more of a just for fun series of vignettes, mini-comics, and other stuff! There is an underlying story but it's more gestured at and told in snapshots rather than told linearly from start to end.
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I did put together a website to serve as an FAQ of sorts! Finished it just now. That should hopefully answer some of the common questions about what's going on, what terms mean, and how things connect together.
We next plan to organize things into a clearer "timeline", with the story's different "arcs" tagged accordingly and an organizational page listing important moments and linking important comics/vignettes. So, that's coming up... hopefully in the next month. (But who knows with how busy I am lately, ack...)
Thank you for the kind words though! We honestly never planned for this to turn into such a big project or get such wide recognition, so it's super flattering that people are interested enough to know more about our silly villainous furry nonsense.
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n0tangeliccc · 1 year
Note
I have an idea! NSFW Jealous possesive top creek x reader, the asian girls start drawing reader with other ppl and the ships became very famous around town, tweek n craig have no other option than fuck reader until she can't think straight bc they're jealous as hell and they need to prove that reader belongs to them 💏💏💏💏
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You’re ours
Craig x Fem!Reader x Tweek
(EVERYONE IS 18+)
Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, oral (m! + f! receiving), cum swallowing (it’s implied), threesome, fingering, degradation (the tiniest bit of praise), slight edging (?), semi-public sex (idk other people can hear you), uh i think that’s everything i don’t know how to tag these things😵‍💫(some parts might sound ooc im sorry!!)
A/N: I didn’t expect y’all to love the Creek stuff but here you go my loves🤭 (also this was not proofread please tell me of any misspellings!!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.
There stood your two lovers, Tweek and Craig, their hands shaking in rage as they looked at the huge mural of you and their close friend Clyde together. Ever since you started hanging out those same girls who once got them together have been shipping you and Clyde together and this made Tweek and Craig absolutely furious. “AcK- Craig can you believe this?” Tweek’s mind was racing with panicked thoughts of you leaving him and Craig “W-what if she leaves us for him aHh! This is too much!!” “Calm down honey” Craig rubs Tweek’s back trying to calm him down before sighing “I knew we should’ve just been open and told everyone we’re in a poly relationship now look at this shit!” He face palmed mentally. Craig knew you were well known around South Park it would have been only a matter of time before you started getting shipped with someone he just wished it was with him and Tweek, I mean they were your boyfriends for fucks sake! “T-That was too much pressure!!” Tweek was practically about to pull his hair out. “Don’t worry I’ve been thinking of a way to make it know” Craig smirks and Tweek gives him a confused look “Don’t worry honey I’ll tell you all about my plan on the way, now come on I’m sure Y/N’s waiting for us at the coffee shop”
As they walk to the shop they couldn’t help but notice something that only fueled their anger and jealousy even more, Clyde. Craig’s whole body tensed up and his grip on Tweek’s hand tightened causing the blonde to turn and look at what was happening.
You had been cleaning a bit while waiting for your lovers to arrive when Clyde had walked in and struck up a conversation. You’re body leaned against the counter as you and Clyde spoke when suddenly you heard the cafe door slam open. “So then I- What the hell??” Clyde jumped as Craig and Tweek walked in “Oh hey guys what’s up?” His smile fading quickly as his friends glared at him “Okay?..Anyways Y/N-“ “AH!-Actually WE need to t-talk to her right now” Tweek cut him off ‘Weird’ you thought, you’d never seen them act like this before “Well we can go into the back office, I’ll be right back Clyde!” You waved as the guys dragged you away from him.
You could feel the tension in the air as you walked in turning to look at your boyfriends. “So…What’s going on guys?” You asked awkwardly “What’s going on?? Seriously Y/N don’t you see what’s being spread around??” Craig answered back angrily “All these people are convinced you’re with Clyde!!” The jealousy pumping through his veins as he pulled you towards him and Tweek “You’re ours and I think it’s time we let people know” he growled in you ear. “I-In here?” You questioned as he grabbed you and sat you on the desk “People will hear guys” Craig smirked “I’m sure you’d like that considering how much of a whore you’ve been lately, don’t you think Tweek?” Tweek chuckled and nodded in agreement “B-better they hear and know”
He kissed down your neck as Craig untied your apron and unbuttoned your work shirt. Both men began leaving trails of hickies down your neck and breast switching sides so Tweek was now in front of you he continued to kiss down your torso, Craig removed your bra and began teasing your tits making you whimper. Tweek unzipped your pants and pulled them down to around your ankles before beginning to kiss your inner thighs running his hands painfully close to your aching core “Tweek..” you whimpered again making both men laugh. “What’s w-wrong baby? Feeling needy?” Tweek looked up at you with a sly grin, you rarely got to see this overly dominant side of him but when you did god did it make you wet. “Please Tweek” “I don’t know Tweek I think she’s been to much of a slut to deserve it” Craig smirked giving your breast a soft squeeze making you groan “So fucking slutty, bet you’re soaked just from us teasing aren’t you?” You hear Tweek chuckle as he pulled down your panties “Oh s-she is Craig” his fingers hovered over your clit teasingly making you shiver in anticipation “F-fucking whore” Tweek growled before sticking two of his fingers into your wet folds. You gasped loudly as he began sliding them in and out of you rapidly “F-Fuck Tweek!!” You moaned loudly “So loud, though you didn’t want anyone to hear this you slut” Craig grinned smugly as he undid his pants “Time to get that pretty mouth of yours to work” he said as he pulled cock out from his pants “Come on bitch you know you want it” You laid back on the desk as Tweek continued to ravish your pussy and Craig tapped his cock on your cheek “Go on, suck it whore” You wasted no time getting to work giving his tip kitten licks as you stoked the rest of his length. “Fuck…good whore” Craig groaned as you began to slowly began to sick your head down his shaft. Tweek smirked and flattered his tongue against your clit teasingly before harshly sucking on it making you moan around Craig cock “Yeah j-just like that baby” he removed his fingers from inside you switching to his tongue, he lapped your juices rapidly making moan even louder as you felt yourself getting closer to cumming. “A-Are you close?” Tweek asked as he pulled away, his thumb circling your clit as you pulled away from Craig and nodded desperately. “Switch?” He asked Craig “Switch” he grinned mischievously as they exchanged spots with Craig between your legs and Tweek in front of you face now. You quickly began to stroke Tweek’s dick before bringing it to your mouth as Craig teased your entrance with his cock making you whimper around Tweek. “G-gah!” Tweek moaned as your mouth did wonders on his cock. Craig slid into your wet folds a low groan escaping his lips as he began slowly began to thrust into you “That’s it take it like a good slut” he cooed in your ear as his thrust began to speed up. You’re moans we’re sending chills up Tweek’s spine as you sucked him off, he grabbed onto your hair pushing himself deeper into your throat “F-fuck- close!!” You continued even faster as you hear his breath quicken “Ngh! Y/N!!” He let out one last high pitched groan before he came in your mouth holding your head down on his cock. Craig chuckled and began thrusting even faster and harder that before as he felt your walls clenching around him “That’s it whore, cum for us” His animalistic thrust sent you over the edge and you came hard screaming out in pleasure “F-fuck” Craig grunted as his thrust became sloppier and he pushed himself into you on last time before he came.
By the next day everyone knew of your relationship with Tweek and Craig. Not because you guys announced it out loud but because poor Clyde heard the whole thing from outside the office and told everyone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.
Longest oneshot I’ve written (why it took me so damn long😭) also the dirtiest oml😮‍💨
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aftgficrec · 20 days
Note
ack finally caught you guys open <333 thanks for all your work! I was wondering if you have any newer longer fics with realistic characterisation and writing (similar to profenity’s works maybe?) and also any non-fox Neil/andrew fics? Thank you!And sorry for the tall order;;🙏
You’ll find an abundance of non-fox andreil in our recent Staff Recs: Writers post. On our tags page under AUs, explore the shops and jobs sections or other themes from fantasy to band aus.
Fandom writer profenity is known for long, meaty explorations of canon characters and themes. Their ongoing WIP ‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ has more than 380k words and 12k+ kudos! Find it in this Raven!Neil to Fox ask under former writing name crazy_like_a. The author interacts with fans on tumblr @hopingforcoordinates. 
We’ve featured or referred to profenity’s ‘Lessons in Cartography’ and sequel ‘The Cartographer and the World’ in many asks. I’m listing some as a doorway to similar works. For something newer, try the Kevin-centric ‘A Falling Star’ series, featured here. If this answer seems cobbled together — it is. This is my subjective, limited attempt at catching lightning in a bottle. -A
check out other works in these asks that feature profenity’s ‘Lessons’ series:
must read fandom classics here
post canon continuation of The King’s Men here
Neil fights with Jack here
andreil exploring feelings, intimacy and sexuality here
in character andreil smut here
small selection of ‘not new’ recs:
‘Hold me close, in fact bury me’ and ‘Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms)’ here
‘Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner’ here
‘progress comes in small steps’ series here
‘Inked Truths’ series here
‘Baltimore Blues’ here
long recs for a return to fandom here
A Falling Star series by NikNak22 [Rated M/E, 245011 words, 3 complete works, Updated Nov 2023]
NB: the author credits inspiration to ‘To Be Certain We'll Be Tall Again’ by fullyvisible, featured here, now complete.
Part 1: Dead of Night (E, 101589 words) It’s Kevin’s senior year at PSU, and things are…okay. But that changes when a single question from a nosy reporter sends his life spiraling. The descent is slow and maddening – memories and trauma from his past weave together to form the image of the man that stands there today. As Kevin begins to look around him with a new and critical eye, though, he’s no longer sure that man is who he wants to be. So the question is - when faced with the truth, is it a case of Kevin finally getting what he deserves? Or is it about time to prove a lot of people (including himself) wrong? Aka the fic that’s all about Kevin Day.
tw: torture, tw: abuse, tw: child abuse, tw: rape/noncon, tw: alcohol abuse, tw: psychological abuse, tw: depression, tw: self esteem issues, tw: body dysmorphia, tw: body shaming, tw: bullying, tw: assault, tw: homophobia, tw: racism,  tw: self harm
Part 2: Darkest Before Dawn (M, 52365) “This is finally it, isn’t it?” Jeremy whispers. “Oui,” Jean says softly on Kevin’s other side. “I believe it is.” And for a moment, they look so lost. Just two little boys about to go out and face the big, wide world. So Kevin searches until both of his hands find one of theirs. He doesn’t look at them, though he feels their gazes on him. He just breathes deeply and closes his eyes. Then he squeezes their hands as he tells them, “I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next.” AKA the highs and lows of Kevin’s life after graduation and into the Pros.
tw: self esteem issues, tw: panic attacks, tw: minor character death, tw: implied/referenced assault, tw: implied/referenced eating disorders
Part 3: In the Light of Day (E, 91057) It’s been almost five years since Kevin graduated from PSU. Five years that he's played Exy professionally. Five years since he’s learned to live on his own. Five years after discovering he’s in love with his best friends, former USC Trojans Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau. Five years since he’s figured out, they will never love him back. So, when Jeremy and Jean invite him to their house for Christmas this year, he knows this is it. It’s the finale. The last hurrah. The swan song. The final act. It’s time he lets them go, lets this foolish, one-sided love go, once and for all. But he might find this is harder than he ever expected.
tw: depression, tw: bullying, tw: self esteem issues, tw: body dysmorphia, tw: imposter syndrome, tw: implied/referenced eating disorders, tw: gaslighting, tw: ptsd, tw: dissociation, tw: implied/referenced abuse
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mashed-potato101 · 2 years
Text
Imagine this...
|Twisted Wonderland|
Mc turns into a child due to an alchemy accident. Instead of making someone/people do the babysitting, it's the staff who will take care of them
Masterlist | Parts 1-?
≪Prev |[Part 3]| Next(TBA)≫
Taglist: @hornehlittleweeblet2
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Ruggie flew beside Kalim as they watched Riddle do a loop with his broom. Kalim’s eyes gleamed. “Wow! That was incredible, Riddle! I want to try that!” Kalim praised. 
“Shishishishi. You’re more likely to fall on your butt if you want to try that,” chuckled Ruggie.
“I agree with Ruggie,” Riddle nodded, “That stunt is hard, and it takes practice to master it.”
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The three froze as someone zoomed past them and witnessed the person making triple loops. Their eyes widened with their jaws dropped. 
“What... just happened?”
Silver flew next to them, rubbing his eyes from dozing off. “Urm, what’s going on?” 
They heard a whistle and all students’ eyes were on Vargas with Crowley beside him. 
“STUDENTS! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!” yelled Vargas. He then pointed towards the same person who passed the three, “I NEED YOU TO STOP (Y/N) AND BRING THEM DOWN SAFELY!” 
Wait... THAT WAS YOU!? How and what in the Great Sevens-?! 
“Wh-What!? That was (y/n)!?” Kalim yelled in disbelief. 
“How did they manage to fly a broom!?” Ruggie followed. 
“No time to ask questions. We need to get them before they get hurt.” Riddle motioned and began flying towards you. The other three nodded and followed behind. To their surprise, the way you flew is relatively steady and fast.  
“Hehehe! Come and catch me if you can!” you laughed in joy.
You are now flying outside the field, causing the two adults to panic more. Many students made attempts to capture you but failed. It was fun at first; it’s like playing tag but everyone is trying to tag you. Then you grew afraid, noticing something was off.  
Riddle was behind you and nearly grabbed the broom, that was until Kalim accidentally bumps into him. The two fell to the ground but manage to land harshly. 
“Kalim! Watch where you’re going! I nearly caught them,” Riddle scolded. 
“ACK! Sorry, Riddle!” 
Ruggie flew right above them and manage to catch up to you quickly. He flew right next you, “Oi, (y/n)! You need to stop now before you get hurt!” 
“I… I can’t!” 
“Ha? What do you mean you can’t!? You’re going to end up hurt if you don’t stop!” 
“No! I really can’t control this broom, it’s like it’s moving on its own!” 
“Eh?” 
Before you could say anything else, Ruggie looked up to see the two of you heading toward a tree. 
“(y/n)! Watch out!” he panicked.
Ruggie kicked your broom away from the tree as he quickly turned the other way. He may have managed to push you away, regardless his kick made your broom rotate multiple times. You accidentally lose balance and quickly hugged the broom with your bare life. It finally stopped spinning as you are now flying straight. 
“Can this stop now?” you cried 
At that exact moment, the broom made a hard stop, causing you to fly forward. Your scream was heard all around as you fell. Out of nowhere, someone swooped in and you landed on their arms.  
“Are you alright?” 
You looked up to see the boy who saved you. 
“Silver! You saved me! My knight in shining armor!” 
You kissed his cheek, making the silvered hair man’s cheek tinted pink. Ruggie flew right next to Silver, 
“Huff. Nice catch Silver.” 
Silver sighed to himself silently, “I accidentally fell asleep again. If it weren’t for their scream, I wouldn’t have woken up and caught them on time.” 
Ruggie’s ear twitched, sensing something was coming. His eyes widened, “Silver watch out!”
Right on time, he and Silver swiftly moved away from each other as someone zoomed past them. They all looked up to see a random second-year student, who belong in the Octavinelle dorm. 
“Oi! What’s up with you!?” Ruggie yelled. 
The second-year smirked, “Don’t you understand? You have the kid with you.” 
“Yeah? What about them? They are perfectly fine” Silver questioned. 
“The coach wants us to get them, right? Which means it’s most likely whoever returns the kid will get something for it.” 
Ruggie and Silver discovered that the student wasn’t alone. There are now 5 people surrounding them, ready to take you away. 
“Tch. This is bad,” Ruggie growled, “Even if there’s a reward, I’m more worried about the prefect’s safety. They might get hurt if the guys get their hands on (y/n).”  
You hugged Silver tight, “Silver, Ruggie, what’s going on? I’m scared.”
Silver looked at you and hold you closer, “It’s okay, we’ll get you out of here. As a knight, it is my duty to protect, and I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.” 
“Hey, I don’t normally do this, but I’ve got an idea,” Ruggie leaned onto Silver. “I need you to trust me on this. You fly above while I go down. Try to follow me quickly.” 
Silver nodded. “Hold on tight, (y/n). And close your eyes.” You did as you were told. 
Soon, both Ruggie and Silver quickly parted away from the group. The group of boys growled as they faced Silver who was flying away from them. 
“Get that kid!”
They soon began to chase Silver down. The white-haired saw a glimpse of Ruggie, who was signaling him to go through the woods. He nodded and rapidly followed him. The group trailed behind but lost him as they entered the area filled with trees. They stopped and check their surroundings. One Savanaclaw student’s eyes caught something from afar. “Over there!” he yelled. 
The rest of the group looked where he was pointing and saw a particular hyena flying away. They caught a glimpse of the infamous black and white fur coat with him. 
“He got the kid!” One student fumed. “After him!” They hunted Ruggie down like a pack of wolves until he was stopped by a tall cliff in front of him. He turned around to see the boys surrounding him. “We’ve got you now surrounded!” One of them yelled, “Now hand over the kid.” 
Ruggie sighed in defeat, “Alright, ya got me. Catch!” He threw the fur coat toward the Octavinelle student. As the student caught the clothing, he realized there was nothing or at least no one in it. “What? Where…?” 
“Shishishishi, good luck returning that to Crewel once he heard what you’re trying to do with his precious pup.” 
“If you don’t have the kid, then that means…”
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
Meanwhile, the two Housewardens were standing on the ground with their brooms near the clock tower from Mr. S’s mystery shop. Riddle continues to scold Kalim. 
“You should be glad Jamil isn’t in this class with you. He could’ve scolded you by now,” Riddle scolded 
“I know I know, I’m very sorry. I was so focused on saving (y/n) that I lost control of my speed.” 
“Speaking of (y/n), we really shouldn’t stand around. We should be going after them.”
“But how are we supposed to follow them when we don’t where they are?” 
Their question has been answered as someone flew by with their broom with you screaming. “-WWAKE UPPPP!!!!” 
Silver snapped out and stopped at the main street. He landed on the ground safely, his eyes widened when he realized they were about to crash onto an arch. “GAH! I fell asleep again! I am terribly sorry.” 
You sighed, “It’s okay, Silver. I’m glad we didn’t crash.” 
Both Kalim and Riddle flew in toward the two of you. “Silver! (y/n)! Are you two okay?” Riddle asked. 
“Yes, we are okay,” Silver answered, “I can’t believe I slept again.” 
“It seems like you are dozing off more than usual Silver.” Riddle noted, “Did you not get enough sleep?” 
“No matter how much sleep I get, I always doze off randomly, and I don’t know why.” 
You reached up to Silver and cupped his cheeks. “If you’re sleepy, then you need a nap. We should have nap time together!” 
The knight felt his face warmth as he looked at your little face. “A… nap? No, there’s no time for that.” He turned to the three, “By the way, which one of you two can fly the fastest?” 
“Eh?” The dorm leaders let out. “Why?” 
“We were chased by these scary guys that wanted to get me. But Silver and Ruggie-kun protected me!” You beamed. 
“Wait, Ruggie? Where is he?” Kalim questioned. 
“He’s distracting them while I tried to bring (y/n) back to Vargas safely,” Silver answered, “Unfortunately, I fell asleep which leads us here.”  
“Why were they trying to get them anyways?” Riddle asked 
Before Silver could answer, they heard yelling from afar. 
“OVER THERE! THERE THEY ARE!” 
“GET THEM!” 
Silver silently groaned and placed you in Kalim’s arms. “There is no time to explain. You need to bring (y/n) to Coach Vargas as fast as you can. I’ll stay here and hold them off.” 
“You go ahead, Kalim. I’ll stay here with Silver and have a talk with those boys” Riddle said. 
Kalim nodded and flew away with you. Silver and Riddle flew towards the group who was after you, stopping in their tracks. 
The Scarabia Housewarden managed to bring you safely to Vargas and Crowley, who were still arguing. They bought ran towards you and gave you a tight hug, sighing in relief that you were okay. You began telling them what happened from your perspective: 
“My knight in shining armor saved me from falling from the sky!” 
“Your knight in shining armor? Who’s that?” 
“It’s Silver! He and Ruggie-Kun also saved me from these scary guys who were trying to get me. I think they want to play tag with me.” 
“Erm, Coach Vargas, Headmaster,” Kalim interrupted, “I suggest checking on Riddle and Silver. They stayed behind to confront those students. I’m afraid it may not end well.” 
Crowley had no choice but to follow Kalim’s suggestion and found them along with the group of students who are now collared in the main street. It turns out that during their magic battle, the three of the Savanaclaw students in the group insulted Riddle’s height, which set the Housewarden off and used his signature spell on them along with the two Octavinelle. Crowley scolded the group of boys and put them in detention for a week for causing trouble and starting a fight with magic.
They all returned to the field with the collared students hanging their heads low in shame. Vargas began scolding them. They receive more running and pushups for a week as punishment. Before he could go on, Crowley started.
“This is outrageous! This is why I don’t want you and the other staff to take care of (y/n) because something like this would happen! You should be ashamed of yourselves for putting them in danger!”
Vargas sighed out loud, “Crowley, as you can see, the little sprout is fine-”
“This is why I should be in charge of watching over (y/n) in the first place! They would have been fine if they stuck by me this entire time-”
“Dire! Would you please calm down and let me talk-”
“NO! WHAT HAPPENED WAS UNACCEPTABLE! I WON’T LET YOU AND THE OTHERS TAKE CARE OF (Y/N) BUT ME!”
“Erm, not to intrude or anything,” Ruggie chimed in, “(y/n) have mentioned earlier that they couldn’t control the broom while I was behind them.”
“Of course, they couldn’t control it! They are magicless; they can't manage a flying broom.”
“No no, Mister Crowley!” you spoke, “I do know how to fly and control it- I think…”
“Well, that can’t be right,” Riddle stated, “You can only fly the broom if you have magic.”
Vargas crossed his arms, “Now that you said it, you are correct, Rosehearts. I do remember them needing Grim to fly a broom. Just as Crowley said, they’re unable to fly without magic. If that’s the case, how can little sprout fly without magic then?”
Everyone slowly turned to Crowley, who looked highly suspicious. “E-Eh?”
“Dire,” Vargas squinted his eyes at the crow, “Are the one who added magic in the broom?”
Crowley began to sweat, “W-What are you talking about, Vargas?”
“Are you the one who caused all of this?”
“I WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING! How dare you accuse me of such nonsense!”
“Then how is it possible for them to fly the broom then? It’s impossible for them to use it unless you cast a spell on the broom or something. Plus, I don’t remember bringing the broom with me in the first place.” Vargas turned to the 2nd years, “Right, boys?”
“Yeah…”
They all nodded.
“I don’t remember you bringing a broom.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Headmaster” Riddle said. The 2nd years nodded in agreement. The rest of the students gathered around, wondering what the commotion was.
“What’s going on?”
“Why are they collared?”
“They probably messed with the Housewarden…”
They all began to whisper to one another, gossiping about what they thought had happened. Crowley grew anxious; he didn’t want them to spread rumors about this and ruin his reputation. He cleared his throat loudly and looked at his watch. “Ahem, I supposed it is time for you students to head back and get ready for your next class.” The students nodded and began walking to the locker rooms. Our 2nd years could only look at you in worry and followed their classmates.
Crowley then looked at Vargas, “If you’ll excuse me, I must be off doing my ‘duties.’ And I will be taking (y/n) with me, just to keep them safe, unlike you, Vargas.” He grabbed the child’s wrist and pulled them. “Come now, my little hatchling. It is time to go.”
“B-But…”
“It is dangerous for you to stay here and Daddy Crowley will take care of you.”
“No! I don’t want to go! I want to stay with uncle Vargas!”
You started trying to pull your hand from Crowley, making it difficult for him.
“(y/- (Y/N)! Please, child! As your father figure, I must protect you, for I am kind and graciou-”
“YOU’RE NOT MY DAD! PAPA CREWEL IS MY DAD! LET GO OF ME!” You then began to cry, “UNCLE! HELP ME! *sniff* I WANT MY PAPA! I WANT PAPA CREWEL!”
“Dire! Please let go of (y/n)!”
Crowley could only stare in disbelief. The coach witnessed the school’s headmage sulking on the grass floor, “After all the great and kind things I’ve done for you… You still choose that DAMN DOG TAMER!?”
Vargas could only laugh at Crowley’s karma for being ignorant and irresponsible. The crow then suddenly jumped up and bent down to you. “Well how about this, my little hatchling: If you let me take good care of you, I will establish myself that I am a better parental figure than your… papa. Now, what do you say?”
You looked at him and rubbed your stomach. “I don’t know, my tum-tum said you’re not a- What was the word papa used? Tust- trust woody? Wordy? Oh! Trustwordy! Yeah, I think that word.” Que Vargas wheezing in the background.
Crowley groaned, “Why must kids always make things problematic?” He lifted you, “If you don’t believe me, then I’ll have to prove it to you.”
“Crowley, where are you taking that kid- DIRE!”
Before Vargas could protest, Crowley took off with you in his arms. Vargas stood in the field alone, hearing nothing but silence and the slow breeze. He took a big breath and sighed in defeat. “Crewel’s going to kill me…"
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oncewhenalongtimeago · 8 months
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sorry but i think i lost your plot has to be peak literature because it's one of the only thing ive ever read from start to last update in under an hour
Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 14
Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader
Words: 2,163
You get caught up in some hobbying.
Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, crafting, bead making
<Previous - Next>
Your relationship with the older vikings, men and women alike, as their sometimes delivery girl, sometimes shepard -though that was much less of a harrowing job now that the dragons were cool, and you were afforded the privilege of spend a lot less time hiding and running- sometimes portable laundromat and shiphand, afforded you certain knowledge that other people sometimes weren’t privy to, though Berk was an open floor for gossip.
Like how the twins were always looking down because their helmets were too shallow to balance themselves on their heads, which had the consequence of making it seem as if they were always up to something. Which, coincidentally, they were- Their mother complained about them a lot in between mentions of her husband and fawning over Stoick.
You learned how to cook some from Mrs. Ingerman, and you’d taught her a few words from your time period, which was nice. 
You’d had to do Snotlout's laundry and clean his room on more than one occasion, even had to pull it out of his basement room more than once, which you were thoroughly disgusted by. You’d learned a lot more about the guy from that experience than you’d ever wanted and had refused to take any of the Jorgensons’ laundry from then onward.
You’d even done things for Hiccup and for the Chief, mostly things he was unaccustomed to doing as he was too busy acting as the leader of the village and things Hiccup missed because he was too busy doing whatever he did out with the riders. You were sure Hiccup’d had no idea just the same as Snotlout. 
There were a few things you were certain to never bring up, including but not limited to a hastily drawn but very detailed sketch of your face shoved in a notebook tossed under his bed, not particularly helpful in terms of putting to rest the whole crush thing, or the small pail of screws he was sure to have brought back from the forge without his father’s blessing.
You were in denial a little bit, yeah. 
You should probably tell him. About the whole being in his room thing. But you wouldn’t. Definitely not.
It seemed, though, that despite this extra eye into the working world of Berk, you’d still ended up missing a few things.
Berk was… A community. You weren’t sure how you never realized that.
The Great Hall was filled with warm laughter, people patting each other on the back, men and women sharing stories about their kids and, often enough for you to take notice, Hiccup. It looked like raising him was a group effort.
Off in the corner were others at a table by shallow baskets which were shaped like oblong gold pans filled with fine powder and shells, men and women sitting along the side sorting dragon scales and grinding them down with flat stones and clearly chiseled pestels.
Dragons squealed and bobbed around your periphery, tossing and picking up what must’ve been colorful, neutral stones.
Large men and women and children hunched over the tables all over the hall, rearranged so that they were all closer to each other, parallel as they whittled away at things you couldn’t completely see, tables lined with leaves and the occasional plate.
It was well lit.
People filled the halls between tables with joyful conversation, playfully batted at each other and sat back. The whole space was bustling and also relaxing, somehow.
In the background was Ack arguing with some blonde woman, but even that was nice. You could tell he didn’t mean it and neither did she, shooting back just barely inaudible jabs with each other.
You were mindful of the basket in your arms full up with his laundry, just recently cleaned and aired out. 
You had stopped in your tracks at the sight, standing just before a short table placed perpendicular to the rest as if the lady sitting there was the guard to some booth or other. 
You looked down finally, noticing how she looked at you nearly eye level with a raised brow. She had plenty of wrinkles on her forehead, which told a lot about a life made by concern and stoicism. She also wore a large, very off white apron over a grayish vaguely beige long sleeve short and a long brown skirt, which you only just barely caught sight of as she lifted it up to wipe down something in her hand.
She had a shallow basket in front of her filled with what looked like beads and various strings, needles and small carving knives with wood shavings laid on the cloth-covered table around her.
“Hi,” You said, breaking the wall between the two of you. 
“...Hello, dear,” She responded, after a while, settling down her skirt and placing a colorful bead back into her basket. He picked up a needle instead, which you saw was already attached to a long string with beads all down the length. 
You wondered where they’d gotten the dye for it. Could dye even be used on glass? Was it glass?
Instead of asking those questions, you shuffled your feet.
You glanced at a white sleeve flopped over the side of the basket, which you held by a bar on the other side and pressed into your hip, “What’s going on?”
“Crafting is going on,” She said, plainly.
You nodded, “I like it.”
It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see Vikings wandering around Berk, trying their hand at leatherworking and carving and other things. Now that they had the time, being assaulted a lot less by Dragons, the Berkians indulged their more artistic inclinations, exercising muscles for skills they’d never been able to before.
“I mean, this is great. What started it?” You asked.
You wanted to join in. It might be nice.
“Oh, you haven’t seen? The pride of Berk, walking around with his little bead like a bird,” She chortled fondly, “Did you see it? I wonder who gave it to him? Lucky girl. He has, dare I say it, started a trend.”
A bird? You quirked your lips up at what was most certainly an exaggeration. You hadn’t seen anything like that. You failed to mention that you’re the one who made it.
You wondered if Hiccup knew about any of this at all. You didn’t. 
“How do you know it was a girl?”
You turned. The spoken voice belonged to one of the women you’d see before in the Hall. She came over, done fussing with Ack in the background.
She was also blonde, a brighter, more yellow shade with a few less gray hairs. And she was large, also, with broad shoulders and a strong presence. Her arms were the largest between them. 
She wore tight trousers and a large though not long tunic. Her boots were plain leather and looked to be of the pirate variety. 
You pondered the idea that they might be related, or at least good friends.
“Look at him!” The first lady put down her needle, resting it in her shallow basket again, a glass bead falling down the string as she did, gesturing with her hand, though there was no Hiccup in sight, “He’s so happy! So proud! The small thing. He’s got too much energy for his little bones to handle.”
You thought he might be offended if he heard her say that.
“Oh, don’t be delusional,” The one with big arms huffed, “And don’t let him hear you say that.”
“But I’m right!”
“You’re wrong! He’s no myth, sweetheart. You can’t go around treating him like one of your little stories,” She shook her head, crossing her arms. 
“The Ragnar is real!” She insisted, staring down the Ack lady, meeting her eyes until the other woman rolled her own. You could tell it was a disagreement as old as time itself, but like with the other woman’s squabble with Ack, there was no malice in it, “Beowulf, too.”
They were just putting on a show.
You felt your lips stretch wider. It felt good to be a part of, even as a witness.
“Well, anyways, I’ve been thinking of making it a regular thing. You know, putting it on a schedule. Craft nights…”
You nodded excitedly, “It’s very modern.”
“Do you think so?” She asked, pleased.
“You don’t think we’ll have better things to be doing?”
“Our ancestors used to do it, can’t see why we can’t.”
“Really?” You asked.
“Oh, yes. Read a passage about it once, saw a note or something like in one of the dragon books. Glass beadmaking,” She looked up wistfully, pausing briefly in her rhythmic sewing, “I always wanted to try it… But we had no forge, no beads, no time, then, either. I was just a little girl. But now…!”
She picked something small but shiny out of the basket in her lap, ooh-ing to herself.
You were on the outside, kind of, though not on purpose. Everyone was welcoming enough, though they were much too busy fighting with the dragons to notice much or throw a party or anything. You were never excluded but you always had better things to do, too, so, well.
But this was here, and it seemed convenient. 
“Dear, come sit down,” She squealed slyly, voice both quick and dragging, face gleeful, which seemed out of place on her wide, bult frame and stern face.
“Okay,” You said, beaming.
You stuck mostly to the woodworking bead types. 
The image of glass beads shattering midair was frightening, though you were sure that none of the dragons around here could reach those speeds. Flying that fast might be dangerous for people too.
Most of your beads were probably going back to Hiccup anyways.
Of course, you had your own handful of small colorful semi-porcelain.
You tried a bunch of colors of all different types, and ended up with a handful of each. It was cool, to the super-so degree, and it was free. It seemed good will did a lot, and community bonding exercises were meant to be just that and nothing else. There was a line of Vikings, adults and children alike, ready to do their own part and bring things in anyhow. 
Many Vikings used ground up dragonhide to dye and waterproof beads and to mix in with melted glass in order to give it a pretty stain.
It was interesting, especially now that many Vikings were using Dragons in place of a kiln, and how they’d set up small buildings with bricks and some coal and used those too.
It was disastrous, at some moments. There were many burns, mostly small, that people went up to Gothi for, saying their goodbyes in bummed tones. 
Gothi must have had enough of it because she came down eventually to manage the glassmakers and smack the unfortunate.
It was… nice. 
The afternoon light was surprisingly nice on your face. It felt a lot nicer and your chest felt lighter, the world awash with things bright and endearing.
You looked forward with a winning smile at Hiccup.
“You liked the one I gave you, right?” You held out a handful of blue glass and wood beads to Hiccup, “They’re doing craft days in the Hall. I made some.”
You had a bunch of others in pouches around your belt.
You didn’t have anywhere to put them besides. You had no dragon to ride, so in time you might favor the glass ones. You had trouble with a few of them. The dragonhide did a great deal to make the glass more sticky when it heated up.
“You’re going to see a lot more people around with beads on.”
There were not enough leaves and pouches for all your sorted beads so they were sort of mixed, but you got a hold of a good few before it was time to clean up and you fled before anyone could notice. The hall would still be active for a while.
“You started a trend, I think,” You said, matter-of-factly.
It was impressive. Trends usually fell to the Chief, who recently had been trying to approach you though he always got carried away by tasks before he could. 
Hiccup had a sort of goofy smile on his face which consisted of a slightly upturned lip and the framing of his two largest front teeth which dropped as, as it looked like, he snapped back into himself, “What?”
“Yeah,” You said after you finished unloading the rest of his pouches into his arms and turned to walk away.
You looked around as you fled, making sure no one was watching.
He looked down like he wasn’t sure what to do with all of them, and also a little bit put off.
You wondered if you overdid it.
A small weight shifted by your ankle as you walked, the coins you’d slipped into a side pocket in your boot. You were going to ask around for some seeds.
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