#but i know the odds of being a Special Person in one of those works

[agerefandomstuff]

little soldier boy???

I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!

Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?

Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.

(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)

Word count: 3175

Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.

Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.

“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”

Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.

...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.

It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.

“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.

Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.

Or a few women.

Aged-like-wine women.

Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.

He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.

“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”

The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.

Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”

The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”

His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!

“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.

“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!

“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”

“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.

Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!

He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.

He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.

The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.

“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.

Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.

“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?

“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.

“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.

Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.

“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.

“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”

“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.

“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”

“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”

“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”

“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.

“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”

“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”

Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.

“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.

“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.

The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.

Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?

So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?

Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.

Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”

Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”

Ben: “I don’t like commies.”

Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”

Ben: “He’s red.”

Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”

Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”

Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”

—

Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”

Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”

Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”

Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”

Ben: “I dunno.”

Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”

Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”

Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”

Butcher: “Boys.”

Hughie: “Sorry..”

Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”

Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.

Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Loving You (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Valentines day special :) How Y/n and Alastor met and fell in love.

Warnings: Cannibalism, cannon levels of violence and gore and the like. Gender neutral reader.

Word Count: 2,686

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I am getting to requests, I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy for Valentine's Day :)

Loving Alastor was like dancing for Y/n. It was something they did by nature. There had never been a period of having to learn and they didn’t have to be good at it, they just had to try. Sure, he could be mean. He could be quick to anger and cruel but, so could everyone. It was worth it in their mind. He was wonderful enough that all the bad was more than manageable.

Alastor had not had the same experience when it came to Y/n. They were nothing if not stubborn and from the moment he met them, Alastor didn’t really know what to do with them. He had tried all the usual tricks: getting them to make a deal, threatening to put their voice in his next broadcast, the usual things that normally worked quite well. Y/n had just brushed them all off with a light hearted laugh as if each and every one of them had been some poorly planned joke on his part.

When he had realized none of his normal tricks were going to work, Alastor had tried to avoid the strange demon. He had done everything he could to stop seeing Y/n save for out right murdering them. While normally that would be an option, perhaps the best option, something about the way they thought it was all a joke just took the entertainment right out of it for Alastor. It was no fun if they weren’t scared and Y/n seemed like the type of person who’d keep laughing until the very end. He was sure their murder would just wind up being unsatisfying, maybe even vaguely off putting. It just wasn’t worth it in his mind.

Y/n on the other hand, had taken quite the liking to the feared Radio Demon and his straight edged sense of humor. Of course, they’d heard the stories about him. If anyone had asked them the truth back in those days, they would have admitted it was all an act. That secretly, beneath it all, the were scared of Alastor, that they were just trying to save face. The thing was that while he did freak them out a bit, send the odd shiver down their spine with his grin, they also found him intriguing. Y/n, like any demon, liked being entertained and Alastor? Well, he was the most entertaining thing they’d come across in years.

They had tracked him down all over the rings of Hell, there was no escape. Everywhere Alastor turned, he was met with their kind and oddly appealing face. At last, he had relented. Giving in to Y/n’s persistence, the two entered into a mildly uneasy contract of friendship.

They were his antithesis in every sense of the word. Where Alastor was prim and proper, put together and always well dressed Y/n was rather wild and undone. Where he had nearly perfect manners even when feasting on the flesh of unsuspecting demons, Y/n always seemed just slightly out of their depth. Somehow, they also seemed to always end up on top. It irritated Alastor in a way. He worked hard for his image, to get what he had. Y/n just seemed to stumble into their fortune, winning because they were too hard headed to do anything else rather than because they particularly deserved it.

It was a loose relationship they had. The occasional run in, the once in a while team up against someone neither of them liked. Not enemies, but not quite anything else either. An uncomfortable and confusing middle ground. Alastor liked it that way, he kept it that way. If Y/n was a distant facet of his life, then things didn't have to be confusing. Things could be normal and alright and under his control, just how he liked them.

It was the day Alastor walked in on them in his library that his opinion began to shift. Y/n had broken in, and inelegantly at that. The glass of one of the windows was completely gone, shattered in unrecognizable shards across the floor. He was about to yell, to attack them even, as he rounded the sofa they were lounging on. That was when he realized that the book they had pulled from his shelf was in Latin. He had stopped, staring at them in mild surprise. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that they even seemed to notice he was there.

“You broke my window.” he had said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

“Yeah, sorry.” Y/n waved him off, barely looking up from their book, “Can you remind me what gravidis means?”

“Gravidis?” Alastor repeated after a moment, taken aback as always by their casual manner of being.

“Yeah.” they sighed, at last letting the book fall face up into their lap as they met Alastor’s eyes, “You don’t have a dictionary in here and know it is an adjective. I remember it meaning pregnant? But this is Thyestes, famously known as Seneca’s play without women so it can’t be. That doesn’t make sense, I just can’t think of what else it could be.”

“I didn’t know you knew Latin.”

“So?” Y/n had shrugged, raising the book to their eyes once again, “You don’t know a lot about me. Just cause I know how to have fun doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Gravidis. Help me. Now."

They were silent for a moment. Y/n rolled their eyes.

"Please.”

“It can also mean laden down, heavy, things such as that I believe.”

They carefully examined the words on the page, their mouth moving silently as they read. Suddenly, their eyes went wide, a smile breaking its way across their face.

“Oh my gosh wait, Seneca was so smart." they had exclaimed, barely looking up at Alastor, "He’s full of his children, laden down or whatever, because he eats them but it’s a perversion of pregnancy so that’s why Seneca used gravidis. I love him so much!! That’s literally such an insane move to pull.”

Yes, that had been the first thing. The first event to occur that caused the switch to flip in Alastor's head, made him stop seeing Y/n as so much of an irritation and rather more as an object of curiosity. Still, he did not seek them out. Still, he kept their conversations short and to the point. That was until the second major event occurred.

A few weeks later, Alastor was visiting Rosie in Cannibal Town. The pair were quietly having tea in the back room of her shop, catching up and enjoying one another's company. It had been quiet and pleasant. That was, until there was a knock at the door.

Alastor could picture it like it had happened yesterday. Rosie had gently placed her cup and saucer on the table, calling for the person to enter. It had been one of her employees, shaking in the doorway in fear of the pair of overlords. He had announced that there was a guest and in response to Rosie's furrowed brow, Y/n had peered out from behind the demon with a little wave.

Rosie had lit up immediately, getting to her feet and pulling the younger demon into her arms. Y/n had sighed, pretending to be irritated by the affection. Alastor could have sworn he caught a smile as they at last freed themself from Rosie's grip and sat down lazily on the couch.

"Y/n, dearest, I don't believe you've met Alastor. He is one of my oldest friends."

Y/n had shot Alastor a menacing look, halfway between a joke and a challenge.

"Oh we've crossed paths once or twice." they had hummed, grabbing a finger from the box on the table and popping it into their mouth.

Alastor rubbed his temples in irritation, sighing deeply.

"You broke into my house three weeks ago. I would not call that crossing paths."

Rosie looked between the pair for a moment in surprise before she broke out into peels of laughter. Alastor looked up, confused at the reaction as Rosie calmed herself. She took a deep breath, a hand to her chest.

"I should have known." she smiled, "You two would be close."

Y/n and Alastor had shared a look.

"So, how do you two know one another?" he asked after a tense moment.

Rosie smiled, grabbing Y/n's hand in one of her own and rubbing their knuckles gently with her thumb.

"Y/n here is my favorite protege."

"What?" Alastor asked in utter disbelief.

"Yep." Y/n nodded with a smile, "Rosie took me under her wing when I first arrived. She's a true peach."

It didn't take much time after that for Y/n to realize that the nature of their interest in Alastor was maybe not so innocent after all. They came to terms with the fact that it was something more that mild curiosity, a thirst for entertainment, with relative ease. It was just who they were. Of course it made sense the dangerous demon with a quick wit and sharp teeth would be the object of their affection.

Alastor on the other hand had barley come to terms with the fact that Y/n might be worth his time in any capacity when a few months later, he walked in on them murdering another demon. He had heard a noise from a nearby ally when taking an after dinner stroll. His sense of intrigue getting the better of him, Alastor had turned down it.

At the end of the dead end ally were a pair of demons. One was sitting on the other, hunched over it and tearing at it's skin with their elongated claws. Sensing they were no longer alone, they sat straight up and turned their wide eyes to the ally's entrance.

That was when Alastor had realized two things. One, the demon who had been attacking the other demon was, in fact, Y/n. They were soaked in someone else's blood, their hair wilder than normal and their eyes wide with surprise. They smiled, their teeth sharp points.

"Alastor!" They happily called to him, "Want some?"

That was when he realized the second thing: Y/n was beautiful. He looked away immediately, quickly turning his back on the scene as he felt his cheeks grow warm.

"No." he hurriedly called over his shoulder, "I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."

He heard the rustling of fabric as Y/n stood from the demon and walked over to him. Taking a deep breath, Alastor turned to them as they stopped beside him. Y/n shrugged casually.

"I'm not really hungry, I just was bored. You wouldn't be spoiling anything."

For Alastor, loving Y/n was like a disease. It was a diagnosis, the doctor refused to meet his eyes when he broke the news. It was terminal, his death hinged on them.

He spoke to Rosie. She was far from the neutral party on the matter he desired but, Alastor didn't know where else to go. She had smiled brightly when he had revealed the truth of his confusion, made some comment about knowing it was going to happen sooner or later. From that point on, he and Y/n were inseparable. Somehow, they always managed to find their way to one another's sides.

They never said anything about it because they didn't need to. It was fundamental, they each felt the need from one another. The gentle touches were enough, the bright smiles, the lingering gazes. They both knew how the other felt just like they both knew that no matter what happened or how long they were apart, they would always wind up back together.

Y/n was not worried when Alastor disappeared. It wasn't the first time and they knew it wouldn't be the last. They knew he always ended up okay. It was, however, most certainly the longest time they'd spent without him since meeting the Radio Demon. When, seven years after his departure, they caught the familiar static of his voice through the radio, trashing Vox who had tried to fill Alastor's shoes in his absence, it didn't take long for Y/n to track him down.

They rang the bell to the Hazbin Hotel, looking fondly up at the radio tower that had been haphazardly added to the side of the building near the roof. There were some shouts, some quiet footsteps, and the door swung open. Standing behind it was none other than the princess of Hell herself, Charlie Morningstar.

"Hello, would you like to check in?" she asked with a bright and kind smile.

Y/n looked over her shoulder to the lobby. Sitting on the couch within were a handful of demons, some familiar and some not so much. They shifted their gaze back to Charlie as a smaller, gray demon missing an eye came up behind her.

"Is the Radio Demon here?" Y/n asked, clasping their hands expectantly before them as they rocked back and forth on their heels.

Charlie exchanged a sceptic look with the demon behind her.

"You're not here to attack him, are you?"

"Something like that." Y/n hummed in response.

Before any of them could say another word, Alastor pulled himself from the shadows behind Charlie and the other demon. Y/n's breath caught in their throat.

"I thought I heard someone at the door." he stated, eyes fixed on Charlie, "Is everything quite all right?"

"Yeah." Charlie replied after a moment, "I think so at least. They asked for you?"

As Charlie spoke, Y/n slipped past her, walking right up to Alastor. Vaggie grabbed her girlfriend's arm, drawing her attention to the situation at hand. Charlie stopped speaking, watching the pair of demons intently. Alastor looked down with wide eyes as Y/n stood their ground, their hands on their hips and a slightly irritated expression on their face.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” they stated matter of factly.

“You found me.”

“You happy about that?”

It was the first time either of them had really addressed the reality of their emotional situation. It was the first time either had ever asked instead of just assuming. Alastor’s smile softened as he realized the great Y/n, awe inspiring demon, afraid of no one and nothing, was nervous. They looked away, their hands fiddling with the cuffs of their sleeves as they waited for him to answer the question.

“Of course I am.” Alastor hummed, grabbing their shoulder and pulling them into his chest, “Don’t be a fool.”

Gently, he wrapped his arms around their smaller form, holding them close. There was a delicacy to his movements, a fear to harm. Charlie watched in excitement. Surly if someone like the Radio Demon could treat someone with such care, such grace, such… love, surly that meant that even Alastor himself had a chance at redemption. His chance was rough around the edges. It had bruised knees, messy hair, and a crooked grin. His chance wore beat up old converse and was easy to excite.

“You’re the fool.” Y/n shot back, their voice muffled by the fabric of his coat as they slowly wrapped their arms around his waist in return.

“Oh yeah?” Alastor chuckled fondly, planting a soft kiss on the top of their head.

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded, lifting their head slightly so they could meet his eyes.

“And why is that?”

Y/n thought for a moment. Their cheeks flushed pink as they shrugged.

“I don’t know. You just are.”

Alastor chuckled lightly and released Y/n from his grip. They took a step back away from him but not before sliding one of their hands into one of his. They slotted together like they were cut from the same stone.

“Don’t disappear like that on me again, okay?”

“Even if I do, you’ll just find me again.”

“Yep.” Y/n nodded, “It’ll take more than seven years to get me off your back.”

Alastor squeezed their hand gently.

“I’ll remember that.”

[syoounn]

•A little scenario saying they are handsome (part 2)

•Characters: Fyodor, Nikolai, Poe

(Part 1)

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Fyodor

You were quietly staring and admiring Fyodor's appearance as he made eye contact with you as it surprise you.

"Is something the matter?" He lifts an eyebrow, taking off his coat and putting it onto the coat peg. "You're gazing at me quite odd."

"Nothing.." you said shyly.

As usual, Fyodor sees through you rather easily. He approaches you with light, silent steps and cups your face in his hands, scrutinizing you intently with those violet eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm.. you're just handsome.."

He huffs out a sound that's a near to a laugh, a rare sight. His eyes, however, remain calm and serious as ever, and they seem to be inspecting you as if you were a book. Slowly, Fyodor leans forward until the tips of your noses are nearly touching, and his voice is a mere whisper when he speaks again. "What are you up to, my dear?"

"Im not up to anything..." you said.

His eyes glint with amusement, and he allows himself a mischievous smirk. Fyodor's thumb gently caresses your cheekbone, and he speaks in a low voice. "I know you better than you know yourself, my dear. That's not very convincing, is it?"

As if wanting to test his own theory, Fyodor's left hand now sneaks around your neck until his fingertips skim over your skin. A shiver makes its way down your spine at the gesture, the faintest of touches, yet full of intention. He chuckles. "Ah. See? I know you are far better. Your body betrays you, my love."

"And now you blush." His eyes gleam in triumph. Fyodor's thumb brushes over your cheek again before he brings his face close to your ear, and his breath is hot on your skin. "You know I always see through you, no matter how elaborate your schemes. After all, you are mine."

It's so endearing how you are trying to hold on to your secret. Without warning, he suddenly pushes you against the nearest wall, the hand around you neck keeping you caged in place as he presses his body against yours, and his eyes glint with a mixture of teasing and hunger.

You'll have to pray for yourself tonight...

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Nikolai

“Guess what I did today~?” He exclaims excitedly.

"Dangerous stuff..?" you said.

“Of course not, my love!”

He pouts, and you can hear him being sarcastic about this as he hugs you. He rests his head on top of yours. He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, and he rests his chin on your head.

“I was just doing simple work for Dostoevsky…”

“A boring mission at that - I just had to disguise myself as another man’s secretary! They were so fooled, too… they thought I was this boring person, and not the great Nikolai!” He says proudly before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He spins you around to kiss your lips properly.

"Mhm... The great Nikolai is handsome after all.."

He grins as he kisses you and lifts you up in his arms. He is quite strong, so doing this isn’t a problem for him, even if you are quite tall as well. He holds you up in his arms with a gleeful look on his face.

“You think so, dove?”

He hums, He’s always been overly affectionate. He’s like a puppy if a puppy was a psychotic mass murderer.

“But, if you really think I’m handsome…”

He gently rests you against the counter, standing between your legs, holding your waist as he smiles down at you.

“How about I show you just how handsome I am~?”

He rests his hands on your hips, his hands slowly tracing circles on your body.

“A little performance, perhaps?”

He leans in and whispers into your ear, his mouth so close to your skin that you can see a sly, mischievous grin on his face.

"Performance..?" you said, confused.

“Tada! As my dove, you get a very, very special performance! One that no one has ever seen before…”

He lifts up your chin and captures your lips in a kiss. He kisses you with a feverish passion, one that makes you not question how someone as strange as him had been able to pull you.

He is always very gentle with you, even if he can be very… cruel when it comes to his other activities. But you just hope you'll enjoy his performance tonight.

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Poe

Poe was currently working on the noble as you looked at him with curiosity while Karl was laid down on your lap sleeping soundly.

"Could you come closer..?" you said.

Upon being asked to come closer, Poe set down his pen and got up from the desk, walking over to you and stopping beside you, looking down at your sitting form.

“Is there anything you need, darling?” he asked a small smile across his face, his attention on you now and not on his work.

You lift up his bangs as you smile

"You're very handsome,"

He flushed a little upon hearing these words and smiles, and you called him handsome. Soon, a small embarrassed giggle left past his lips as his bangs were held up by you, revealing more of his face.

“Thank you- you’re very pretty too..” *he muttered out, leaning down a bit as to not pull your hand away as you held his bangs up with your other hand free hand to do as you pleased with it, his face was flushing a little.

Poe blushed a bit upon having his bangs lifted by you. You can see his flustered face.. it was cute.

“You are beyond beautiful. Perhaps you should model for me sometime?”

"Model?.." you said, confused.

Poe nodded, a warm smile on his face.

“Yes! To model, maybe for a book cover, for example, or to help me with some art references, I’m sure you would look amazing in whatever you did.”

Poe took a seat next to you and gently held your cheek in his hand. His gaze was filled with an immense amount of love as he smiled, gently rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Would you like to model for me, my love?”

That took you off guard, making you blush as you nodded shyly.

Poe practically grinned at your agreement, gently pulling your face closer as he kissed your forehead before speaking again, his tone softer.

“Do you perhaps have something in mind you would like to model? Like a dress, or something else?”

Both of you spent time discussing it..as it was the nicest and sweetest day you've had.

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Yandere Student Council 

You just needed to get your schedule officialized. Having gained special permissions to take a desired course you needed the student council’s collective stamps of approval to proceed. Normally all you would need to do was slip in the necessary documents. But something seems to keep happening to yours and it just works better for you to do it in person. Thus begins you’re journey of getting the obsessed student council’s approval.

The first one you go to is the one with the easiest access –the Secretary. Gill Hunter has an absolute poker face when his boyfriend isn’t around. So you’re pleasantly surprised when he’s actually willing to hear you out. Keeping his amber eyes on you he listens to your plea for his stamp, seemingly not reacting at all he promises to help you—for a price. You have to step in for him and his boyfriend from time to time. He says it's just a week as he demands you shadow him for the day. Calling to you in his monotone voice to join him in the student council lounge. Don’t bother bringing up you’re friends or your desire to eat your lunch alone. Even as the week comes to an end and you get your stamp he has you working closely with both him and his boyfriend very closely as an honorary assistant.

“Most if not all schedules go through me, you don’t want your schedule being messed up again. Do you?”

The next one is Gill’s beloved–the Historian. June Frimroar is a different kind of person you need to get a stamp from. Where Gill strings you along with his stone-cold face and hardly hidden intentions, June will do the exact opposite. With a smile that flirts with scheming and altruism, he’ll ask for the most innocent kind of help. Only to somehow become something far more intimate and demanding of you in the first place. How else would simply taking notes during student council meetings lead to you smushed in a locker with the historian and his boyfriend? Or how you’ll be forced to help undress June whose hands inexplicably might be sprained? He’s an enigma to loosely associate with trouble, easily put off by how kind he is to you and your friends as you start spending more time with him and the rest of the student council. Certainly, those rumors of him crippling classmates for fun are far from true, right?

“Don’t you trust me, (Y/n)? Just listen to me and I’m sure everything will work out…even if that blackmail situation with your friend is completely separate.”

Like clockwork, you fall into being the student council’s lackey suddenly trusted with helping the seemingly overwhelmed Treasurer. Min Su is an odd fellow who’s been dignified a living legend with his accounting possibilities; rumored to casually be hired by the government a couple of times. So it's odd that he suddenly must have you spending your club hours documenting receipts. He’s so apologetic and jumpy that you don’t feel right questioning him. So it's normal that he has a fierce blush on his face as you take the records from his hand. Or the little noises of excitement pleasure he seems to have when you lean over him to admire his speed as he’s calculating the books. He’s likely to forget that you needed to get his stamp until you off-handedly mention how you’re going to miss him when you get that stamp.

“Oh, you wanted that? I-I’m happy to give it to you, n-no problem! But you’ll still visit me right?”

At this point, your presence is much more normalized in the student council quarters, and naturally, the Sergeant of Arms or more well known as the student council’s hype man is happy to welcome you. Popular beyond belief Roman Ferris arguably has the largest fan and friend base in the entire council. Knowing everything about everyone he already knows what you’re asking for and he’s cheekily telling you he’s already prepared how you’re going to get it. If you thought Gill was forward then you’d be mistaken Roman straight-up demands every weekend that you come with him on a date. Movies, restaurants, ice cream, trips to the park, he’s doing it all with you. Demanding you dress up for these ‘definitely not dates’, hold his hand while you walk, and smile at him only him when you pose for the camera. It's odd how he knows your every like and dislike, always ordering for you and smiling ominously when you ask. But he’s definitely not giving you this stamp if you suddenly stop coming to his dates hangouts, even if he promised he would. It’d be bad if the whole student body considered you a harlot for playing with the golden boy’s feelings. So just smile while you eat your favorites and keep your mouth sealed about your suspicions.

“Don’t worry about it babe, I already know just how you like it! Don’t worry how I know~ You’re so cute when you're well-fed!”

Practically cemented to your unwritten obligation the Vice President is well aware of what you’re after. Spencer Lyle will wait until the end of the day mindlessly stamping your document as he scrambles through his hefty pile of paperwork. Bags under his eyes and his lids dropping dangerously you figure you’ll help him, already familiar with the kind of work he was doing anyway. He thanks you when you eventually wake him up and from then on something sinister a friendship is born. Suddenly he’s coming up to you in your classes, during lunches keeping you talking casually as he leads you to the student council room. You were going there anyway, right? He’s just the perfect friend for you. Great at warding off bullying fans or teachers that get a little too snippy, he becomes your go-to friend. Not too popular but well-respected feared by the student body; totally perfect for relying on him to be relatable. Completely complacent with letting him into your life and it feels so normal now that he rings your dorm bell for an early morning. You know him so well so it's natural he does the same.

“Hey, you ready to go cupcake? Bags under my eyes? Yeah, I was up all night protecting you doing council stuff, you know how I work.”

Last but certainly not least the Student Council President: Lucoa Grander the college’s prodigy cryptid. Known to be a living genius and prominent underground business personality it seems only natural that he gets such a powerful, prestigious position. He is such a celebrity you go to Spencer to deliver your schedule confirmation only to receive a disappointing answer. Apparently, the president’s only willing to stamp yours personally, and thus your witchhunt for the illusive president begins. Searching high and low, stringing on his fan base’s own timeline and the other council members’ accounts you try to find him. But after a while, you give up fully prepared to abandon your desired course to have the blue-haired pierced-up president mysteriously showing up. He greets you so casually, sitting next to you as he asks mundane questions. When you finally ask for his stamp he gives it to you…on a major condition. 

“We’ve been looking to widen our ranks and I’ve we’ve been keeping a close eye on you. And we’re thinking of making you an honorary member–it's a new position to diversify our team. You’ll get your stamp this way and we get you our beloved a new member that’s fair enough isn’t it?”

[strwberri-milk]

MC and Xavier/Zayne/Rafayel have a unplanned kid (or kids, i like the idea of twins too)

They are dating for only some months now, having a unplanned kid now would be a problem?

How would she talk about it with them? Or, would them be the one to notice first that something is strange? (I mean zayne is her doctor and ask for regular exams, you doctor is always the first to know the results right?)

They are just dating and never talked about marriage, would a baby change it? (I think rafayel is the romantic one who would want to marry before the baby is born)

How would them act while mc is pregnant? (Not to mention she tecnically have health problems)

Would them be extra carefull about her health?

What about her job as a hunter?

When its birth time, how would them react? (Maybe rafayel would freak out a bit?)

Besides that, what about the fluffynes, or feelings?

.

Also already leaving this here for another post (not that i would mind if you want to do it all in the same one): what about them as dads?

Starting at birth, how would be see their kid/kids the first time?

Would they take care of mc so she can recover after birth? (My friend had a 28h birth and breastfeeding was painfull, it was nothing like the in movies yk)

How would the kids be like? And what they would have in common with their parents?

.

Thank you very much since now ♡

nothing personal against you but this is a quick reminder to anybody whos new here to please please please check out my rules before requesting! I will be doing the dad hcs section and ONLY the dad hcs - nothing about pregnancy, pregnancy recovery, etc. etc. because i do not write for pregnancy - i can see youve put a lot of energy into this ask and i appreciate it but just as a heads up for the future please check my rules first!

Zayne is a great father. He isn't able to be as active as he would like to be in the earlier years of childhood because he wants to make sure that the child has enough money to be provided for for their entire life. He doesn't throw himself fully into work but he also is just as busy now as he was before the arrival of the child.

Once things settle and he gets used to a rhythm he might start taking less odd hours at the hospital. He's been interviewing for another surgeon or three that can replace his manpower when needed, not wanting to be the absolute backbone for the hospital anymore so he can be home as often as needed.

He can't totally get rid of those odd hours or being on call because it wouldn't be fair to the other staff as he isn't the only parent that works there but the load is definitely lessened with the way that he's worked things out. He wants to be as present as possible and he always does his best to get days off for any special events in the child's life, or just for the family in general.

He will definitely broach the idea of you being an at home parent. He wants there to be someone who can be there for the child at any given time and if you refuse he'll respect your wishes without saying much. It doesn't bother him too much but it is something he wants to bring up.

Xavier is immediately concerned about your lives as hunters. He's very confident in his ability to keep himself safe and it's not to say that he isn't confident in you, but he does worry about you being reckless. It's simply a case of him not being able to be with you at all times and being nervous about it. He'll try to convince you to take a safer job or consider working in a sector that wouldn't require you to be on the field as often.

In all fairness he also stops going off by himself for missions as often and makes it easy for you to find him or know where he is in case he has to go somewhere more remote. He'll be a little picky about who he works with just because he doesn't want them to impede the way he works. He already started playing it safe when you confided in him how much you worry when he does things dangerously but now with a child in the mix he's more aware of himself.

He is very active in the child's life. Definitely loves doing tummy time with it and cuddling with it. He gives both you and the child so much love and attention - there's no way it'll grow up without knowing how in love its parents are and how much its parents love it. You definitely love watching him interact with your child, finding it so adorable to see how he coos and plays.

Xavier also loves to read to your child. He's got a small collection of space themed children's book and now his nightly routine is reading a few of them to your child as it rests on his chest, pointing out all the little pictures and constellations and teaching it all about them.

Rafayel buys the cutest little outfits for the baby. He's definitely the kind of parent who buys designer clothes that will only fit for the week but the good thing is at least he doesn't pick anything that's overtly designer. He just likes dressing your baby well and he has expensive taste and the money to pay for it.

Rafayel is a little awkward at first being a father. He's used to communal child rearing being standard practise (a headcanon I have from the way he talks about his childhood/how I read interactions during myths) so he's a little out of his element. His Aunt definitely comes over constantly to coo over the new family member and Rafayel wouldn't mind hiring additional staff to help keep the home in order and support child rearing as well. He just doesn't want the nanny becoming a primary parental figure for the child - he thinks that honour should go to you and him.

Since he basically works from home he inadvertently spends a lot of time with the baby. He tries to get you to quit your job, citing that he makes more than enough money for you to either stay at home or find safer work but also won't stop you. However, if you continue actively working as a hunter in the field his anxiety around your absence worsens tenfold. He'll ask you to keep your phone on you as much as possible and with your permission will want the ability to monitor your location. He just wants to make sure you don't get hurt and really has your safety at the forefront of his mind at any given moment.

He's also going to be watching for any signs that your child is going to have any Lemurian traits. He doesn't want anybody to find out about it in case harm befalls your little family and also wants to be able to help your child through those changes the best he can. You'll be seeing a lot of his aunt around now to help the two of you - she never minds even if the child isn't Lemurian like they are because she just finds it adorable.

[genericpuff]

Are there any things you like about LO? Or is it all shit to you. Personally, I think it could be a great storyline with the right execution, but a lot of the stuff and plot is unnecessary (I.e. Hades being thousands of years older than Kore and making characters fall in love with people they are racist/classist towards 😨😨)

Oh there are LOADS of things that I liked and still enjoy about LO despite all the shit I've thrown at it. I love love LOVE a lot of the older art-

Like, damn, that shit is so charming! I swear I had that Tower 4 panel as my phone background for like, 2 years LOL

Rachel had a really strong understanding of shape language, composition, color theory, and expressive linework in a way that was really appealing and unique at the time, but along the way it was just lost, undoubtedly due to her taking more of a backseat in the character art process and leaving it to her assistants.

That said, there's a lot of... not so charming, too.

I think, on the one hand, there's a lot to appreciate in the old art that shouldn't be rejected as we criticize this series. At the end of the day, as much as we riff on it, many of us did love this series at one point in time, so we shouldn't cringe at what it used to make us feel or pretend like we were ever above it when we were very much lost in it for ages before it went down the tubes.

But there is a lot to be said about the effects of rose-colored glasses, and how LO was never perfect. The reality is that much of Rachel's work is exemplified by the odd beautiful thing that sticks in our memories, but when we actually go back to relive those memories, we find they're all strung together by some not so beautiful stuff that makes us go 'wait what???'

Case in point, with LO we remember beautiful compositions like this:

But then within those same episodes we get:

And it's like oh. Yikes.

Aside from the art, there was also the SA plot as well as the Act of Wrath. The SA plot felt really special to me at the time because I was someone who was once in Persephone's shoes, being pressured into sex that I wasn't ready for but wasn't capable of saying no to. I can appreciate what Rachel was trying to do with that plot, but over time it became clear that she wasn't committed to seeing that plotline through and so I kind of just dropped my expectations for it entirely.

That said, it wasn't the SA plotline that set me off. I had good faith in that one still that it would be addressed eventually. It was the Act of Wrath plotline that did me in. The premise of it was totally my cup of tea in the way of "quirky character has a dark evil backstory!" which is shit that I absolutely LOVE, but then when the "twist" happened that Eris was the one to give her wrath, that was literally when I had my almost "canon event" moment of realizing "wait... I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." And then it was just all downhill from there. The S2 finale sealed my fate LOL

All that said, as much as my brain is often defaulting to "ew! gross! bad!!!" in all honesty I do still appreciate what LO meant to be back when I still enjoyed it. It meant enough to me that I just couldn't let it the fuck go when it started to go downhill, so much so that I started making my own version of it! And that's something that sets it apart so much more from other comics I really don't like anymore (or comics I never liked to begin with) like Down to Earth, The Kiss Bet, Let's Play, etc. where I really can't even be bothered to think about them let alone talk about them to the extent I do about LO. I may be full of beans when it comes to LO, but I'd still rather be talking about it and all its failings and what it used to mean to me than about any of those other works. I loved it enough to still want it in my life and that's what Rekindled has accomplished for me.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 3: Link

[under-lok-n-ki]

Captain Ava & Captain Lizzie

literally cannot wait until we get more development on this plot bc it’s so so good

also I got around to listening to the Black Rose One-shot and Lizzie was originally blonde??? ik her design was changed a lot during the campaign in general but I’m deciding to play around with that info—I’m thinking she started dying it after joining Shadowbeard’s crew

anyways thoughts I had about Ava/the Ferin’s while designing her (possible spoilers or maybe just incoherent rambling):

gave her a rifle bc I feel like she’d have sharpshooting capabilities on par with Drey, but a pistol just didn’t seem appropriate for her. but I also see her favoring close-range attacks so she also gets a big knife as a treat

I think it’s mentioned in an episode how Jay looks more like their mother, May, so personally I think Ava resembles Jayson much more with certain aspects (specifically height, nose shape, eye color, hair ‘style’— Jay got his more square-ish face shape and broad build; they both have the same eye shape)

expanding on that fiery hair ‘style’ thing— I’m thinking that’s smthn that just kinda comes with the Ferin abilities and I’m thinking those powers need to be unlocked in a way?? there’s no other reason I can think of as to why Jayson has the flaming hair and specific magic skills while Jay doesn’t, so I’m thinking Ava may have been more in-tune with/naturally drawn towards the Ferin magic (esp since we see her using that golden form during the animatic sequence in ep101) while Jay become more influenced by May’s magic (since I think she spent the most time with her esp after Ava’s death). maybe Jay and Drey suppress their Ferin abilities (Drey def intentionally, Jay maybe a bit unintentionally?) and it could kinda explain why Jay has special blood: she’s a mix of two [supposedly] powerful magical heritages

I also have this thought that Ava may have unlocked these powers earlier than most of the Ferin’s, resulting in a fate similar to Gillion’s where she was regarded with pride for this yet constantly pressured and trained into becoming a weapon for the Navy (perhaps by request of Grandma Fey, who seems to be a very controlling character and could be the reason Jayson acts so cold and ruthless). and when she failed to uphold their beliefs that’s when The Order was given (maybe they found out about her & Lizzie???)

BUT in comparison to Jayson who absorbed himself in his work, and Gillion who was forcibly separated from his family, Ava was able to visit home often and had May and Jay to lean on as a support system. that connection alone could’ve helped separate the brutality and violence of her work in the Navy from her actual personality—the one that she became admired for and the one Lizzie was drawn to. it could also be speculated that she had the same ideas as Kira and Jay: that she could make the Navy better from the inside (obv this would be more difficult if she was held to high expectations, but she could’ve been on her way to making it work)

speaking of Jay—I think I remember a moment where someone explains how Jayson didn’t want her to join the Navy at all, and I always thought this was odd considering how it was moreso pointed towards her rather than Ava (as well as the fact that the Ferin’s ostracize those who don’t join, like Drey). this would coincide with my theory that Ava was expected to join bc of ‘unlocking’ her powers early, so maybe Jayson didn’t want Jay joining due to the fact that she hadn’t tapped into her Ferin powers yet, but Jay being Jay decided to enlist anyways and eventually gained a different motivation for her involvement than the rest of the clan [thanks to Kira & Ava]. or there was another thing at play. idk kinda just throwing smthn at the wall with this one bc that little comment stood out to me and I can’t remember if it even happened lol

also do we think the whole ‘sun nightmare’ is like,,, a test to unlock those abilities?? we know Jay and Drey opted to jump into it which kinda resulted in some magic golden eye phenomena (which we’ve seen in action once by Drey), but the issue here is when Jay rejected the heat the first time it just resulted in pain. so what would’ve been the option that leads the Ferin bloodline to become so powerful? do they choose to combat the sun?? do they conjure up heat of their own until they overpower it??? so many questions

gaaahhh I can’t wait until they’re out of the Black Sea so we can delve into this more bc I’m tired of feelin like this:

[cvnt4him]

Hello!! I'm the same girl who requested for IT reader a while back, and I really liked it!<3 I wanted to try out requesting again so I'm here once more😭😭 Anyway, are you fine with family-centered stuff? Could you do heavy angst with Father!Number One!Izuku with his little girl? You can decide whatever for the child, really!(but personally I prefer daughter) So, since Izuku is the number one, Y/N is probably the one mostly taking care of their kid. What if there was this huge accident that killed Y/N because the heroes were too late to detain the villain? Plus points if Izuku was the hero assigned. So ever since the death, Izuku is suddenly the caretaker and tries his absolute best to make his kid happy but fails since the kid absolutely loathes him for being absent and for being too late to save their mother. What do you think Izuku will do?? So, yeah!! It's up to you if this isn't weird</3

Its not weird at all my love, thanm you for the req and I'm so glad to have you requesting from me again, feel free to stop by once more and leave some more, youre always welcome<33 I would also like to apologize to you and everyone else who has made a req and I haven't gotten to it. I won't get into detail but I've been busy, I've closed my reqs so I can get all my old ones out, most of my reqs are like months old anyways so here i am clesning out the closet.

...

“mr midoriya, where would you say your life went wrong?”

“ ....when I left my wife.. ”

Izuku was always infatuated with you, your beauty, your strength, how compassionate and caring you were. He thought you were just neat. You didn't have a quirk yet like him you still made it into UA. You were pretty smart and tried hard at everything you did. He admired you for that, he watched you closely and studied you. Not in a creepy way, but in a "I'm in love with you, notice me" way.

In your second year you'd finally taken a liking towards him, he was quite cute despite his odd haircut. You understood it was due to the trouble he went through in the war, he was strong reliable and terrifyingly selfless. Izuku midoriya was a great guy and you had really liked him, the two of you started going on sweet little dates together, walking in the park sharing an ice cream, going to the movies to see whats new, going to a carnival with some friends and sneaking off alone.

Those were the days izuku wished could've lasted forever, where nothing was wrong, peace was restored and everyone was happy. But as life does. It moves on. The world changes right before tour eyes and before you know it, it's been 8 years. The two of you are still happily together in fact married now, and expecting. Izuku and you had gotten out of college a couple years ago, he became a pro and you were in charge of the Deku Foundation. A silly name for a silly little guy.

Izuku was a family guy, he didn't see his father much growing up so he knew this was what he wanted. He wanted to assure to you, the mother of his unborn child, and to his unborn child that he would be there, always and forever. He held you at night and made you breakfast in the morning, he wasn't always there to eat it with you but he made sure to leave adorable little notes for you to feel special, you kept busy doing work for his company, exercising to try and reduce stretch marks and baby weight in the future, and cooking for fun. It was hard being pregnant but it was worth it. Is what you'd say.

Izuku could never forget the moment you had his baby. Those were the absolute happiest moments in his life, no doubt about it. Watching his baby leave from your birth canal, he seen the way you screamed in agony with the final push. He was so mesmerized by it all, his wife just gave birth to his... beautiful babygirl.

“congratulations, mr and mrs midoriya, it's a girl.”

When the doctors gave you your baby, he watched closely as she stopped crying immediately at the contact of your skin, your soft voice shushing her sounds away, he pleas and cries powering down as she calmer herself. Its like you were a magical being, izuku was so enamoured with it, with you. With his new baby.

Holding her for the first time was his dream, it was even better than he could've possibly imagined. He sighed and tried to hold back tears, yet they fell asleep if a water faucet was left on, he sniffled and hiccupped as he tried to hold her closely, he took off his shirt so she could feel that skin to skin contact that babies are supposed to love. He read a book about parenting, of course the book would've been better for you to read because it was how to prepare for child birth but either way; it worked.

This moment, truly was the happiest one yet; but as life does. It moves on. And before he knew it 6 years had passed, you're beautiful babygirl was in first grade! She was making friends learning a lot and laughing and playing like kids her age should. She loved the outdoors and loved animals, she enjoyed small things like butterflies and rabbits. She was such a vibrant little girl, a splitting image from izuku too, mind the couple of genetics of yours that had shined through. Izuku loved his girls so much, watching the way you two played together, when you did her hair, read to her, his favorite thing of all was to watch you to crochet.

It was so calming, you would hold her close and show her carefully how to apply the yarn, teaching her how to swap colors smoothly and humming gently to her. Izuku watched you both closely, he's a very observant man, with that being said watching his girls was hos favorite thing to do. It's like you two were a show he could never get tired of, a program that was played just for him.

Izuku was a pro now and as much as he loved you both, he had a job to do. One that he couldn't fail, it ate him away that hr couldn't just sit with his girls all day long. Listen to little stories his baby has to share about her day at school. As much as he disliked it, he would even love to listen to his wife rant on and on about a little dream she had the other night, how the washer was in the kitchen instead of the laundry room and looked like an oven instead. Such odd dreams you had.

Izuku hadn't even realized it, but he had been spending more and more time at his agency, accidentally sleeping there and coming home 4 hours before he had to go back up there. It was tiring, he was tired, yet he had a job to do. And he wouldn't fail. You two started seeing less of him, it saddened your daughter deeply yet you tried to remind her constantly that he is a hero, and heroes have jobs to do. She would nod and give you a smile still laced with disappointment, sadness.

What really pissed you off was when he promised your little girl he'd be there for her science fair, yet didn't show. She won and everything, he promised her he'd help with making it. Whoops he couldn't do that because he was working. No matter! He apologized so you both just slid it off. However this was the last straw for you. Driving home you were furious, seeing your little girl in the mirror with a frown as she fiddled with her ribbon.

You stayed up late that night. Assuring that you'd catch him, and once you did you two argued. Which is something you'd never done, of course you two would bicker and disagree on things, but this was unlike those times. You were both yelling and had possibly woken up your daughter, but neither of you could care. Too blinded by your own fury, you had banished him and he left without a word. Without a second thought, without looking back.

“ I wish I looked back.... I wish I would've apologized, I wish I could've been there when she needed me; when they needed me... ”

That was the last time he'd seen you alive.

It was a normal day for the most part, besides the fact that you two had argued two nights before and hasn't spoken since. Izuku hadn't seen his daughter nor spoken to her either, it was eating away at him but he didn't have time to focus on that right now.. he was getting a signal from one of his sidekicks out on patrol.

“ deku! We need you! There's been an accident! There's a huge fire breathing villain who's trapped a woman and her daughter!”

A woman and her daughter.... That had to be a coincidence. It was, it had to be. Tons of people have daughters and just so happen to be women as well. Hell, he bets it's not even her daughter!!

“its- it's your wife...”

A loud scream was heard on the sidekicks line, izuku was terrified, he moved without even thinning jumping out of the nearest window zooming through the air trying to reach you. So many things going through his mind, why were you out? What were you doing? You never go out, why now! Why was his daughter there?

He was trying his damnedest to reach you, he couldn't help but feel like time was slowing down. Like he wasn't fast enough, meanwhile in actuality he was moving faster than the speed of sound. So why wasn't he there yet? He groaned in annoyance at this, he couldn't shake the terrible shrieking sound that came from the other line.. it terrified him.

“ come in! Is everything alright?! What's the situation?! ”

“i...”

“ what?! what is it, spit it out?! ”

“ I'm sorry... ”

Sorry? Sorry for what? Why the hell was he saying sorry? The only question izuku could find himself wondering. Upon arriving he sees people running, fire burning everywhere and debris filling the air, he coughed through the smoke putting on his mask and zooming through the thick fog. He found his sidekick, no wonder his voice was so hoarse and dry, he had collapsed and passed out. Izuku took him to the nearby ambulance that was present before going back through the smoke to find you.

Other heroes were arriving on scene and searching for other civilians, trying to get them out while others tried taking down the villain, he was huge and was not going down without a fight. Izuku couldn't even try to worry about the villain, you and his daughter were his main focus.

“ daddy! Please help us! ”

The sound of his daughter wailing with a cracky voice, it shattered his heart he followed the sound of crying until he found the two of you, your daughter by your side holding your arm tears falling down her reddened cheeks, she was dirty and covered and muck. She also just so happened to be covered in...blood.

“ princess... what.. what happened.. ”

His daughter ran into his arms bursting into even more tears hiccuping and sobbing. Her cries were loud and full of sadness anyone within a mile radius could tell and even hear, izuku picked you up in his arms not even taking the time to assure you were okay, not checking a pulse or to see if you were breathing. He just swooped you up in his arms bridal style and had his daughter on his back, telling her to cover her mouth. He zoomed through the smoke and handed you both over to the ambulance, they were quick to ail you both.

Izuku was soon to go help the other heroes in scene but first he looked back to you, to see them giving you air and performing CPR, his eyes widened and just as he was about to go back over to you, he tried to rush to your side before being caught by none other than..

“ deku, c'mon we need you. ”

“ kach- erm- dynamite. I can't, I have to— ”

“ come. on. ”

The fiery blonde yanked the large green haired male by his suit and dragged him back into action, he thought this was for the best. Leaving your side this last time to finish slaying this beast.

The fight was over and everyone who had been injured was taken to the nearest hospitals, the villain who had caused all of this trouble was taken into custody and was going to be behind bars for a long time. During the fight people could tell izuku was letting out pent up steam on the villain, he could've killed him. He was sure of it, everyone was. He had be pulled off in order for him to stop. You were hurt and his daughter could've gotten hurt. Izuku felt the villain deserved far much worse than to be behind bars. But at least he was rotting.

Izuku went to see you in the hospital, waiting for hours on end, pacing back and forth a million things on his mind. His daughter had been released a while ago, she was fine apart from the smoke inhalation. He couldn't believe she didn't have a single scratch on her, but he was glad and very much thankful. She sat in the nearest seat taking it easy, watching izuku pace around before finally, some news..

“ mr midoriya— ”

“ what- what's going on is my wife okay?! what's the problem, can I go and see her?? ”

“ I uhm... ahem. I'm afraid I have some bad news.. Mr midoriya. ”

Izukus expression fell, his eyes widened yet his face was completely blank. His heart dropped and completely shattered at the words the doctor said to him. His daughter immediately broke down. Tears were brimming in his eyes, he was borderline shaking in his red boots. He felt bile rising in his throat, the burning sensation making tears fall. They fell and never stopped. He held his daughter close that night. Never letting her go. He was afraid if he did... She might leave him.

....

“ I see. and how does that make you feel?”

“ ... are you seriously asking me how my dead wife makes me fucking feel. ”

“ yes. It's been 9 years, you've retired from hero work and have been seeing me for quite some time yet we never seem to talk about her. ”

Fuck... 9 years had completely flown by him. He hadn't even realized.. you'd been gone for 9 years....

“ I... I.. ”

“ your daughter will be a freshman at UA this year, correct? How does that make you feel? Have you checked in with your daughter? Have you asked how she's been? How has she coped with her mother's death? ”

Izuku was speechless. 9 years had passed, he can't seem to remember much and his daughter.. the last piece of you he has, is starting school at the very high school you two met at. Where did the time go...

AN: I'm not good at angst if you can't tell, this is a shite ending and uhm I've been feeling like shit so I hope this makes you feel shitty, but in like a good way yk? I want you to feel so hurt and sad that it makes you think 'wow.. this is some good shit right here.'

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Perfume Regret

ExBoyfriend!Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: A fic inspired by Attention by Charlie Puth. Your ex-boyfriend Miguel O'Hara left you heartbroken and no matter how intense the effect he has on you still is, you're determined to use this party to get even.

Warnings: +18 meaning SMUT AND LANGUAGE MINORS DNI OR SO HELP ME GOD. Also there's angst and good old anger-fueled sex. The ending isn't heartbreaking don't worry.

Word count: 4K

I know that dress is karma 

Perfume regret 

Got me thinking 'bout when you were mine 

Nightclubs had never been your scene. 

While you weren't strictly averse to them, you didn't thrive in that element as much as some of your friends did. Yet, whenever you decided to make an appearance, it wasn't the stroboscopic lights, the promise of a few drinks with friends, or the energizing music that made the night worth it. 

It was the hunt. 

And the preparations began long before you even set foot out of your apartment, from the moment you stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe, your face a blank canvas. Getting ready with your favorite, emboldening playlist was usually a luxury but not tonight. Judging by the way you struggled to apply eyeliner over your lids with such shaky hands, tonight, you were in dire need of a crushing amount of confidence. 

So much so that a glass with one remaining sip of red wine stood next to your makeup bag, waiting for you to take that last bit of liquid courage. 

Yes, the mere thought of the chase always made your chest swell with excitement. The stolen glances from across the dancefloor until someone gave in and tried to make contact. Loud music left people no choice but to hold conversations in loud whispers that tickled your ear. The desperate attempts to make themselves worthy of your time and the small concessions you made to make them feel like the most special person in that tiny, packed, overpriced club. Flirting was a tango meant for two, and not knowing what kind of partner you'd be dancing with was exhilarating. 

Not this time, however, you thought as you picked up the glass and poured the remaining wine down your throat. Tonight you were after a much too familiar prey that you'd once been dumb enough to let get away. 

As soon as you got the digital invitation to the Alchemax Innovation Department New Year's Eve party, you knew it was time to settle the score. 

A short buzz coming from your phone interrupted your train of thought as the screen lit up with a text from whom you considered to be your work best friend, Liz. 

Heyy :) u coming? 

Yep. Be there in 20, is everybody there already?

O'Hara is missing. Idk if he's coming, though. 

Oh. 

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of all of this being for nothing. Whatever,. Who cared? You weren't doing this for him. You were doing it for yourself because you wanted to go out and have fun. 

A weak smile tugged at your lips when you couldn't even convince yourself with that blatant lie. God, you felt like a terrible feminist at the moment. Screw you, Miguel O'Hara. 

Those had been the last words you said to him before marching out of his apartment and slamming the door after you. Ever since that week during which he’d vanished from work with no explanation, your boyfriend had started to cancel your dates at the last minute or still be out at odd hours, and when he started to simply disappear and not answer your calls or texts several times throughout the day you began to worry.

When he asked if you could talk about something important, you figured you'd be getting an explanation, not dumped. 

The reason, according to him? He was dealing with some personal issues that he could not tell you about, but he'd single-handedly decided it was in your best interest to just move on with your life, so he'd decided to break things off. His face when he said all of that remained engraved in your brain since that day. Cold. Logical. As devoid of any visceral emotion as a doctor would be when recommending you to give up carbs or red meat. 

Two years of your life you'd given to him. You were planning to move in together. You were happy. For what felt like the very first time in your life, you were in love. 

You took a deep breath to keep tears from running down your cheeks and ruining your mascara. 

Even almost six months later, your heart painfully fluttered at the mention of his name.

Carefully, you dried your eyes with a piece of paper and took another deep, slow breath. Your eyes, beautifully framed by a smoky eyeshadow, slowly traced the reflection of your body in the mirror. A sleek, simple dress with a small slit on the side hugged your figure. You loved the color: a nearly black navy blue that matched your chosen makeup palette. 

At the sound of your phone, your eyes drifted down to the lit-up screen. 

Oh, nvm, he just got here. 

The game was afoot. 

As much as it hurt your pride to admit it, you were decidedly nervous as you made your way into the dimly lit nightclub, your eyes discreetly scanning the crowd in search of a particular set of brown eyes. 

Suddenly, a voice made your face in the opposite direction. 

"(Y/N)! Over here!" Liz called from the bar, waving at you with a huge smile that you returned as you walked towards her after wistfully looking at the busy crowd one last time. It wasn't until you reached the bar that you noticed she was sitting next to a man you didn't recognize. 

"So, this is she," she nearly yelled right next to the man's ear when you got close enough to be heard above the deafening electronic beats. 

"Hi, (Y/N), right?" He said, reaching out one hand, "I'm David. Liz has told me a lot about you," 

"Dave here just joined the team," Liz explained, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, "I thought it would be nice to make him feel welcomed. I'll leave you to it. I have to go say hi to a few people," She continued as she left the bar, not before giving you a certain look that made you realize you'd walked straight into a trap. While David was decidedly handsome, and you could've considered him to be your type under different circumstances, right then, your mind was somewhere else. 

"Sure," You replied distractedly, "So why did you choose to work here?" 

That should be enough to keep him talking for a while about his college education and how all he'd ever wanted to do was work for this company and so on while you focused on the matter at hand. 

Where the hell was he? 

Could it be that he'd just popped in to greet a few people and had left before you arrived? Before the countdown? 

Maybe he was celebrating New Year's with somebody else? 

"Sorry, one shot of tequila, please," You loudly called as the bartender walked past you. 

"Make that two, thanks man," David added with a flirtatious smile that you returned out of politeness, mentally praying for Liz to come back soon, knowing damn well that if she'd done this on purpose, there'd be no way out of this conversation. 

You downed the shot as soon as it was placed in front of you. 

David asked you something, but his voice reached your ears as if he was underwater. For a minute, you wondered if such a small amount of alcohol could make you feel so dizzy until you realized it was something else. Your eyes had landed on the back of a familiar head. Brown, scruffy hair and a hearty laugh that had your hands shaking again as you placed the glass back on the wooden bar. 

"God, I'm so sorry. My head's all over the place right now. You were saying?" You said, leaning closer to David. 

"I asked if Alchemax tends to go easy on the new guys or kick them to the curb at the first mistake." 

You laughed as if he'd just told an amazing joke, your eyes covertly going from his face to your target right behind him. At the sound of your laugh, his back stiffened, and you could see he was about to turn around. Right before he did, you quickly tore your eyes off him and glued them to David's face. 

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be just fine. I'll tell you what, I'll look out for you. How's that sound?” You replied, a more relaxed smile plastered on your face. David's eyes lit up. Poor guy. He probably thought that out of nowhere, his luck had shifted. 

Slowly and without losing the amused grin, you peeked over David's shoulder and found Miguel O'Hara's searing eyes staring right into yours. Unlike you, he wasn't smiling. Instead, he let those same calculating eyes unashamedly scrutinize every inch of your body that your gorgeous dress didn't cover and secretly fantasize about what it did. 

Another loud laughter leaving your lips made him snap out of a trance-like state and look into your eyes. Hunting on grounds you were no stranger to had its advantages, such as knowing what to do and when. And so you didn't look away. You held his gaze, undaunted, as you took David's unfinished tequila and brought it up to your lips to take a sip, barely sticking out your tongue to slowly lick the last droplets off your lower lip. You mouthed an apology to the man before you as you walked away from the bar, both for the stolen tequila and for what was about to happen. 

Trying your hardest not to smile or look at him, you made your way through the crowd straight toward Miguel, whose eyes you knew had remained with you since that intense visual exchange back at the bar. You felt them so intensely that you wondered if he could make you burst out in flames just by looking at you. You clenched your jaw as you got close enough for the scent of his enticing cedarwood cologne to fill your nostrils and travel all the way down to your chest, where your heart beat so strongly that it physically hurted. 

You only had one shot. This was it. 

It wasn't until you walked right past him that you finally acknowledged him, gifting him a faint smile as you stepped around him and walked toward the restrooms. 

As soon as the door closed after you, you found the two stalls were empty. After confirming you were alone, a nervous grin took over your features. Biting your lip, you approached the mirror and distractedly began to comb your hair back in place and even retouched your nude lipstick, your eyes set on the reflection of the bathroom door. 

Almost as if you'd timed it, the second you finished applying your makeup and threw it back into your purse, Miguel stealthily slid inside and shut the door after him. 

A minute that felt like an eternity to him transcurred while you kept patiently tucking strands of hair behind your ears, concealing a smug grin. Something had to give. More often, sooner than later. 

"Mind telling me what the fuck was that?" 

His voice bounced off the walls and reached your ears like a once-favorite song you hadn't heard in months. 

"What do you mean?" You calmly asked, never interrupting your task. 

"(Y/N), stop that and look at me." He commanded, his patience wearing thinner by the second. 

"I am looking at you," You nonchalantly replied, your eyes transfixed on his tense shape in the corner of the mirror as you slowly wiped some smudged lipstick off the edge of your bottom lip. 

Outside, the one-minute countdown began. Neither of you could care less. Inside that dimly lit, empty nightclub bathroom, time was irrelevant. 

In less than five steps, Miguel reached your side and, placing his hands on your shoulders, firmly spun you around to face him. 

"Carajo, ¿Tú no entiendes, verdad?" He hissed, his next leaving his mouth after an ominous pause, "Now look at me."

Not happy with the way you were being handled, you shoved him away and shot him a glare with your arms folded before you. 

"There, I'm looking. What do you want?" 

"I want you to tell me who's that asshole and why you seem to think he's so damn funny," 

"I'm sorry, O'Hara, that's none of your business anymore, is it?" You spat out.

"It was none of my business,' He agreed, wincing at the dry use of his last name, "Until you showed up in here looking like that, laughing like a dumb teen at some guy's dumb jokes, making sure I'm watching after you did some pretty extensive research to make sure I was coming."

Wanting to rebuke that argument, you immediately opened your mouth just for him to interrupt you. 

"What? You thought I wouldn't find out, bonita?" 

Miguel started to move towards you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. Still, you weren't sure of what you would've said had you been given the time. Three seconds later, he was standing right before you, trapping you against the cold stone of the sinks.

"Why are you doing this?" He absentmindedly asked, as if he was actually questioning himself or already knew the answer. Before you could react, he suddenly leaned in, burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of your perfume along with something else that you couldn’t perceive but seemed to pull him forward so violently that he had to use both his strong arms on either side of you to hold himself back. Still, he kept babbling against the soft skin of your neck, “I didn’t want to do it…I didn’t…I shouldn’t have…mi amor, I just wanted to protect you,” 

“Protect me from what?” You asked in a breathy whisper, your self-control flaking when you felt him move even closer until your backside was pressed against the sink and your front...

You pressed your lips together to keep a noise that would be much too revealing from leaving your lips. 

Still, you realized your trials and tribulations weren’t over when his hands slowly moved closer to your thighs until his thumbs were tracing faint circles on them. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a hoarse voice before burying his nose behind your ear once more. You had to want him to stop. Before you could gather up the courage to tell him off as you should, you leaned forward and feverishly pressed your lips against his in a kiss that was all but sweet. Without breaking the kiss, in a display of both strength and coordination that was new to you, Miguel slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, placing you on top of the sink with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the way he nudged your legs out of the way so he could grind his lower half into yours. This time there was no way in hell you could contain your moans. 

Pleased with the beautiful sounds he was eliciting from you, Miguel’s hands found their way back up to the thin straps of your dress, which he gently slid off from your shoulders before gripping your chin in his hand and tilting your head to the side so he could devour every inch of skin available, occasionally trapping it between his teeth to make sure it’d leave a mark. Even in your haze, you could notice there was something new to the way he was ravishing you. It was as if he was desperately trying to be gentle, to take things slow, just for something primal to take over and coerce him into taking you for himself. 

Once again, you stopped thinking when he pressed the hard bulge in his pants against you, the friction over your barely clothed clit throwing all logical thoughts out the window. 

“We don’t have much time,” You urged him, not even sure if he’d locked the door after himself. However, deep inside, you knew your motives had less to do with the little privacy and more with the way he unhurriedly worshipped your body and peppered kisses all over it, how his hands gently roamed it as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. It reminded you of what you two had in a way that was still too painful to remember. You wouldn’t lose yourself to the memories of your past and miss out on how good he was making you feel right now. Tonight you weren’t two people deeply in love with one another trying to fight back the regrets of letting go of what was most precious to you, but two strangers about to fuck in the bathroom of a nightclub. 

As if to reinforce that thought, he swiftly pushed you further back onto the sink and pushed your legs apart even more, your dress ridding up almost all the way to your waist. You shivered as new skin was exposed to both the cold beneath you and the heat from Miguel’s skin as he fumbled with the fly of his pants. Meanwhile, you kept yourself busy trying to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands and silently thanked he wasn’t wearing a jacket in the first place. You needed to get him out of as many clothes as possible in the little time you had, needing to feel more of his skin against yours. 

Your desire wasn’t fulfilled until the shirt slid off his tan, broad shoulders, and you were pressed against his bare chest, his hands resting at the curve of your lower back as his head barely slid over your soaked slit, prying a raspy moan out of his throat that sounds almost painful. Still, even when you slid your hands around his shoulders and intertwined your fingers behind the nape of his head, he didn’t move further. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathlessly asked, arching your back towards him with a huff just for him to move his hips away, escaping your touch, trying to regain some control over himself. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” He muttered. Shit. Not right now. Out of the whole night, he had to choose this precise moment? No. He hurt you. He owed you. And now it was his turn to shut up and take it. 

Taking advantage of his low guard, you hooked your feet behind his back and roughly pulled him towards you, another needy moan escaping your lips as you felt him right at your entrance, whatever remaining reluctance keeping him from sinking into you. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from begging. 

“Alright,” He finally says, his hands sliding under your thighs to hold you firmly in place, “If this is what it takes for you to listen to me, bonita, así le vamos a hacer entonces.” 

He accentuated his words by slamming into you and immediately picking up a maddeningly fast pace, the loud music outside hopefully drowning out your endless string of broken moans. 

“I just…wanted you to be happy,” He spoke in a strained voice in between thrusts. 

“Shut up,” You snapped at him. You were happy. And it did nothing but further enrage you to see he was unaware of how miserable you were now without him. Or maybe he was aware because he reached that spot that always made your legs uncontrollably quiver and focused all his energy on it as if he was trying to make up for everything. 

“I love you,” He blurted out as he felt you clenching around his length, his hips stuttering for a second before the sigh that left your lips made him lift your leg further up his torso and slam into you with renewed fire, “God, (Y/N) I love you so much, I can’t do this anymore,” 

“Shut up,” You sobbed, this time as a plead and not an order. Your heart fluttered as you heard the words you’d waited months to hear, and feeling him roughly stroke your walls at this new angle became too much for you to bear. A string of ‘shut ups’ and sounds that resembled his name left your lips as your hands fell to his stomach, trying to push him away while paradoxically needing him to be closer, needing to feel more of him just in case this was the last time you felt him stretch you out in a way you were hauntingly certain nobody else would ever come close to. 

And he wasn’t doing any better. He wanted to pull your head against his chest and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to get on his knees and spend the rest of the night apologizing using his words or his tongue, whatever you wanted as long as you went home with him that night. He wanted you to live a happy, normal life. He couldn’t give you that anymore. Not after that night. Not after the accident. 

But those bad thoughts melted away in his brain when he saw your eyes pressed shut, your beautiful, furrowed eyebrows arching over them perfectly as you chased that high that Miguel knew only he could give you. Something that sounded like an actual sentence left your lips so quietly that he had to lean closer to get it. 

“What was that, bonita?” 

You pressed your lips together, unwilling to repeat yourself until another perfectly calculated thrust pried the half-coherent words out of your mouth. 

“Need you…inside. Please, Miguel, please,”  

Hearing his name being called out like that for the first time in months was all he needed to come undone, his pace faltering as he pressed himself against you, strong arms gripping your waist as he spilled his load inside you with one last labored moan. 

Nothing but extenuated pants could be heard inside the bathroom for a whole, tense minute before you finally moved, taking a few sheets of paper from the dispenser next to the sinks to clean yourself up. 

“What are you doing?” He asked as you straightened your dress and tried to somehow fix your disheveled hair. 

“You wanted to apologize, you did, and I forgive you,” You categorically answered, “But don’t expect me to come running back into your arms as if what you did was nothing,” 

Still, you needed him to know there was hope left for the both of you. So you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then his cheek, granting yourself one moment of vulnerability as you looked into his eyes with a gentle smile. 

“I love you too,” You whispered, giving in to the urge to kiss him again. You basked in his shocked look before turning your back to him and going back to the party, where you bumped into Liz less than five minutes later. 

“There you are! Where the hell were you? You missed the countdown!” 

It wasn’t until you looked around at the confetti-filled floor and the large numbers on a screen that you remembered. 

“I went to the bathroom,” You replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and reaching out to take a glass of champagne from one of the several trays atop the tables, “Where did your friend run off to?” 

“David?” Liz asked, a deep red blush spreading over her cheeks, “He had to go home. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re getting dinner next Friday,” 

“Don’t mind at all,” You replied with a bright smile, eyes already scanning the half-empty club, once again looking for that same face. The one you knew you’d always look for in a crowd for the rest of your life. This time, thanks to the small number of people left, it wasn’t hard to come across his eyes. Amused, you raised your glass at him with a soft, genuine laugh. He did his best to look annoyed, but the minute you tilted your head and gave him your best apologetic look, Miguel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a reluctant smile that made you laugh again before taking a sip of that cheap champagne. 

This was going to be a great year.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5995

Jalsa, Mumbai July 17/July 18, 2024 Wed/Thu 9:27 am

��� ,

July 17 .. birthday greetings to Ef Walaa Zakariya Mohamed Ali from Egypt 🇪🇬 .. 🌷🙏🏻❤️🚩

July 18 .. birthday greetings to Ef Hitesh Kshtriya from Norway 🇳🇴 .. and Ef Zafar Keymaker .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

my sincere wishes for this special day, and my prayers and wishes as ever .. ❤️

I wished for the late night writing, but as always some delays took place and the night became the morning .. 😁 .. which is to say that the Blog has been written and being written now ..

There is again a bit of a rush because in a while shall have to leave for work .. and work timings are always special and need to be adhered to .. if a delay occurs informing the work place is a help but it cannot keep occuring every time .. the odd day when it gets difficult or there is a legitimate cause ..

The last few days remembering Babuji and his times and his words and the timing of his words, become so important .. and it does become rather absorbing when , a thought that has lived with you for a while before opening any of his works and after a random turn of a page one finds that the words that had been loitering about in your mind , seem to have travelled, to the thoughts of Babuji .. and with great surprise I find them in his writing .. unknowingly and without any pre intent of deliberately trying to find them ..

... you know what I mean .. it is just sudden and quite unintentionally amazing to find them there .. telepathic intent aside .. it occurs ..

.. it is quite strange is it not that during the course of a day .. any day or time or place or environ, something happens and you suddenly feel that you have seen the same feel before .. somewhere .. before ..

and you stop for a while .. and think .. and declare it, if the environ and place is receptive enough for it , and its surroundings ..

Babuji's diary during his days of Cambridge when he studies for his PhD are so descriptive and so readable .. that I find as though he were sitting just across the desk and narrating it to me ..

in fact some of the thoughts that I have read in some of his words describe this quite clearly -

he has said that at times the poetry of a poet should be as though a person is sitting just before you and you are reciting or writing those words and thoughts for them .. in this very personal environ ..

.. many speech specialists and those that indulge in public speaking seem to follow or practice similar .. speak as though you address a single individual .. despite the fact that there are hundreds before you ..

it is quite remarkable that what you may have unconsciously observed during any stage of your life, you quite unconsciously still get a flash of it at any time as a rememberance ..

In fact , when faced with any problem for which you may not be able to find an immediate solution, you tend to revert back to the advice of your parents and elders .. for, their blessings are divine .. and when we show our reverence by touching their feet, we submit ourselves to their greatness and respectfully sublimate ourselves to them , irrespective of time place environ .. with the greatest of love and affection ..

much as I would like to and do so when in the presence of the elder or the one that is felt with respect and dignity ..

और अब काम के कुछ क्षण :

work work work .. the only incentive to life and living

Love and more ..❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts III

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

*** Life really couldn’t get any worse, could it? You were just informed that V wasn’t able to finish up your tattoo today, but luckily, Jungkook was. Due to some confidential issues, V wouldn’t be back for a while and the only other person that fit the style for your tattoo was Jungkook. That’s how you ended up here, sitting in his office, skirt slightly riding up your thighs, waiting for him to enter and finish your tattoo. How ironic that he was the one that started it, and the one to finish it, even though now it had a completely different meaning. A few (long) minutes later, JK walked into his office, looking at you sitting so nicely. “Look who’s back. Couldn’t get enough of me, I see?” He speaks in a cocky tone and it makes you want to punch his handsome face. “Quit acting like you’re special. I’m here to get the tattoo finished. That’s it.” Venom laced your voice, you were not willing to put up with his bullshit today. He shrugged, sitting on the small stool beside the tattooing chair. You pulled down your sweater sleeve to expose the tattoo that needed to be finished, wanting to get out as quickly as possible. Waiting for the familiar prick of the tattoo gun, you closed your eyes and looked away…but it never came. You turned your head to look at Jungkook, wondering why he hadn’t started yet. His tongue was poking the inside of his cheek, why did he have to look hot when doing that? You could feel your pussy throb a little, not being able to deny that you’ve missed him. Jungkook leans his forearms onto his knees, giving you a knowing look, “You gotta take the sweater off. I can’t do anything if you don’t, the gun could get caught on your sweater and pull it.” “That’s fine, just do it now. It’s an old sweater anyways.” There were boundaries, sure you could compliment how hot he was internally, and you could still moan his name when using your vibrator, but there’s no way in hell you’re gonna strip for him. He sighed at your stubbornness, leaning back on the stool, crossing his arms. Those actions made it easier to see his muscles, made it easier to imagine how he could pick you up and fuck himself into you if he wanted…he’d never want you. Look at yourself. It was a one time thing. “You need to take the sweater off, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in a bra before. Just do it, Y/N. I’m not in the mood for your stubborn attitude.” With hesitation, you took off your sweater, placing it beside you. You used your arms to cross over your tummy, god damn it, he’d managed to even make you insecure! A low groan echoed through his office, but he played it off as he stood up to grab black gloves. No words were spoken as he turned on the tattoo gun and began his work. You were screaming internally, why had it hurt so much? Squeezing your eyes shut, you turned your head to the side trying not to let the pain be evident on your face. Everything was fine, until you felt a gloved hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it to comfort you. You wanted to shove his hand off, but the feeling was comforting in an odd way, so you decided to leave it. You both stayed like that for a while, him getting up every now and again to get or refill an ink container. But when one prick got too much for you, you flinched and pulled away. This made Jungkook stop in his tracks, his eyes meeting yours when he turned off the ink gun. “Too much?” He asked lowly, keeping his hand on your thigh, carefully and slowly moving it up just a little. “I just need a second…” you asked quietly, letting out a shaky breath. His hand kept getting closer and closer to where you really wanted him. No, not wanted, needed. Jungkook stayed still, looking up at you as his gloved hands kept moving up. They reached the hem of your panties, he gently fiddled with it. Reality hit you hard, pulling away and furrowing your brows. Jungkook seemed to be knocked out of some sort of daze, “What?” He asked, clearly oblivious…or maybe he knew just what he was doing.

“This is never going to happen. Not now, not ever.” You spat at him, grabbing your sweater and standing up.  

Jungkook stopped you before you could stand up, “Why not, baby? You’ve fallen for me before, you can do it again.” He leaned in closer, whispering into your ear, “Or maybe I should fuck it back into you…”

Those words went straight to your core, making your panties wet with desire and possibly hate. “You touch me and I’ll break your dick off.” That wasn’t true, maybe you’d suck his dick off, but not break it off.  

He chuckled, a deep and husky laugh. He grabbed your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently kissing your neck, he let his hands wander down to your pussy again. “God, baby, you say you’d break my dick off, yet you’re so wet already. Which one is it?”  

Don’t fall for it, he’ll hurt you again, just like before! But god…sometimes pain felt so good. You moaned at his touch, spreading your legs a little to give him easier access. There was eagerness to his movements, hastily moving your parties to the side, rubbing your slick all over his fingers. His grunts and groan were like music to your ears, you moaned as he rubbed at your clit, the once foreign feeling returning. It was good, too good…this was not good. You pushed him off, your eyes going wide. Jungkook seemed to be confused, watching as you pulled your sweater over your head, moving your panties back into place and walking out of his office. As you walked through the parlour, you saw the woman, the same woman from the last week. God, you’d fallen into the rabbit hole again.  

*** 

Lindsay’s eyes were wide, staring at you like you’d just told her you killed a kid. “You let him do what now?!” She yelled at you, placing down her phone. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking! It happened like there was nothing in the past! God, I’m such an idiot!” You pulled at your hair, pacing around the living room. 

“Oh my god, Y/N! What did I tell you? You need dick! You need to get your mind off of that prick! That’s it, we’re going to the club and you’re gonna find the hottest man there and fuck the shit out of him.” Lindsay seemed so certain about this plan, she grabbed your hand and dragged you to her room.  

Mistakes were meant to be learned from. Once you made them, don’t make them again. But with him, it was inevitable, it was out of your control. You warned yourself before to not deal with the devil because you will get burned, but what happens when the devil is in the form of a muscular, tattooed and hot man? You’ll get burned a thousand times before you learn.

Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 5 Eng Sub

VS THE START OF A ROMANCE and VS HELPING

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translation notes:

About “naresome”

As tends to happen when translating Japanese, this is one of those words that don’t exist in English. Its literal translation is “the start of a romance.” So, while we’ve chosen to translate it as “get together,” it would be more accurate to give a more extensive explanation. It is a noun that specifically refers to the moment that love begins. So when we’re talking about “naresome” we’re talking about the thing or situation that triggered the romantic relationship or romantic feelings.–Snow

about casting Tominaga Yuya as a guy who gets busy when it rains

I think this is another tokusatsu Easter egg. Tominaga Yuya, who plays Jouji in the “Vs. The Start of a Relationship” chapter, was also on Avataro Sentai DonBrothers, a Super Sentai series that ran from 2022 to 2023. His character, Sonoi, was the agent of a culture from another plane of existence whose members feed off of the brainwaves of human beings. At first, he and his associates Sonoza and Sononi were enemies of the DonBrothers, but they eventually joined forces with the Sentai. A big reason this happened was that Sonoi had a special connection to the leader of the DonBrothers, Momoi Tarou. Their relationship reads as pretty darned queer to a lot of viewers, myself included.

Momoi Tarou and Sonoi bonding, before they found out they were nemeses

Many JBL fans know Higuchi Kouhei from My Personal Weatherman/Taikan Yoho, in which he played the titular meteorologist, Segasaki. Part of the premise of that series is that at the start of the story, Higuchi’s character only has sex with his partner on sunny days. Jouji, Tominaga’s Zettai BL character, does the opposite: he and his “sex friend” only do it on rainy days. 

Basically, the writers of Zettai BL 3 have made Higuchi’s toku boyfriend’s story into a reverse Taikan Yoho situation. What are the odds that’s just a coincidence?–Towel

Also, he gets his own “Zettai BL” title card moment (and he’s the only one out of the secondary cast who get to have that).–Snow

That’s right!

I’m going to put this in context a little because I’ve given a lot of thought (probably too much) to who’s been featured in the opening credits of the different Zettai BL seasons. For every season of the show so far, Inukai Atsuhiro has had four other actors perform with him in the opening theme dance number. (All of whom also get a crack at some of those title card moments.) For two seasons, three of the four spots were taken up by Yutaro (Ayato), Shiono Akihisa (Toujou), and Itou Asahi (Kikuchi). The fourth spot was taken up by different actors in the first two seasons. It was the guy who played the attractive dude from the goukon in the first season, and it was Izuka Kenta, who played Kikuchi’s ex Igarashi, in the second. 

This time around, I had hoped that Sekoguchi Ryo would take the fourth spot, because he’s my blorbo and of course I wanted to see him in a retro dance number (boy was that wish ever granted!). But I hadn’t expected Shiono not to appear this time. Maybe there were specific reasons for this, like a scheduling conflict or an injury. It’s not like Shiono appears less in season 3 than he did in the others, so that’s not the reason. It’s hard to say. But in that context, it seems even more significant that they gave a spot to Tominaga Yuya. We don’t know the reasons for this. But it’s possible they featured him more heavily in this way because of his tokusatsu backstory and the inside joke it allowed them to make.–Towel

about “pudding relationship” and “prince and princess”

This part was tricky to translate. As you might have noticed by this point, Mob likes to make puns. In Japanese, pudding is written as “purin” and it is used to refer to pudding as well as custard. Mob goes on to follow with “prince and princess”, which in Japanese are pronounced as “purinsu” and “purinsesu”. In here, there’s wordplay with these similar sounding words and the image of the ToujouAyato couple.–Snow  

about “cuteness overload”

Japanese is a language that uses a lot of onomatopoeia. There’s 4 types, iirc: animal sounds, object sounds (like rain, creaking and the like), things that don’t make noise (smiles, stares, silence, etc), verbs turned onomatopoeia (I unfortunately cannot remember this properly but it was something like that). In this case, Mob says “Kyun ga tomaranai” (which literally means “the kyun can’t be stopped”). “Kyun” is an onomatopoeic word to refer to a “momentary tightening of one's chest caused by powerful feelings,” usually tied to a romantic context but not exclusively. Taking this into account, we thought “cuteness overload” might be the closest expression in English.–Snow

It’s worth noting that Mob is also saying “kyun” right after the “cuteness overload” line. I really thought at first that he was saying “cute,” since it sounds so similar, it would make a lot of sense contextually, and English loan words are so common in Japanese. But no, it was “kyun.” There was no way we could get across the meaning of “kyun” in one or two syllables of English, so we went with “adorbs,” which is just another word for “cute,” but at least it has a cutesy pronunciation that steps it up a notch.–Towel

about bouhan buzzers (16:06)

The translation note shown onscreen during this scene reads: “a bouhan buzzer is a security gadget carried by Japanese schoolchildren.” We did our best to summarize the meaning of this term briefly, so that it would be readable in the amount of time it was possible for us to keep that caption onscreen. But here’s a longer explanation for those who might be curious. 

It took a while for me to understand what these things were. At first I pictured something like a hand buzzer–the kind that people used to use to prank people. But it’s nothing like that. They’re sometimes referred to as “personal security alarms.” They’re little doodads that you can clip onto a backpack or carry in your pocket, and if you activate them (the most common mechanism for which seems to be pulling some kind of tab or string), they make some form of alarm-type sound. I found a video, below, that shows someone activating two different types of buzzers, showing the sound they make. 

These two make the same sort of beeping/chirping noises you’d associate with an alarm protecting a car or the entrance to a building–not really a “buzzing” sound, or anything that resembles the sound Mr. Cheerleader makes in this scene. But maybe there are other types that are more buzz-like, or sound more like the sound our buddy is imitating. 

According to some things I read when I looked these up, children often play with their bouhan buzzers, making it somewhat less likely that people will be on alert when they hear them go off. I don’t think I could have resisted setting off a gadget like this if I’d had one as a child. They seem to be available with all sorts of characters on them and in all sorts of colors and shapes, which is cool but might make them seem even more toy-like. 

From what I’ve seen, these things are most commonly used by children, but adults sometimes use them too. If you look for them for sale online, there are more adult-looking versions available (say, a rose-gold blob instead of something with cute characters on it–though of course, adults might want those too). One listing I saw advertised that they’re useful for kids, women, and the elderly.–Towel

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[talenlee]

Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[howlingdemon13]

Betelgeuse I was hugely inspired by a bunch of artists and fic writers in the fandom, as well as a few monster artists who specialize in combining different creatures into beasts that actually look cohesive. I’m not sure how well I was able to execute the vision here, but I’m really proud of it regardless! DiamondZ, nonbinary-arsonist, stinkyhorsebitch, and arbuzyansky were the main catalysts for this, so definitely take a peek at their work or give them a follow. I was initially going to submit this guy for a staff art show, but I don't want to rush the rest of it, so I'm just going to post what I have finished here. Design notes are under the cut.

In earlier drafts, I was looking into more serpentine-looking designs since Beetlejuice turns into a snake in the film. Some of the concepts I was leaning towards looked like either a lindworm or centipede, but I think mammalian fits Musicaljuice since he’s “softer” in a lot of aspects compared to his film counterpart. I may look into playing with a more snake/bug-like design in the future. Beetlejuice’s overall look is heavily inspired by Chalicotherium goldfussi, which were huge Miocene ungulates that are distantly related to things like rhinos and tapirs. Given that Beetlejuice is super old, I felt like an extinct animal was a proper fit. On a more personal level, I really like the way these guys look and it was easier to rework their body plan into something that looks carnivorous. That, and I wasn’t really vibing with other mammalian body plans, especially because I wanted something that was close in shape to a human without being apelike. Huge herbivores also have larger stomachs, which I feel is a better analogue to Beetlejuice’s body type. You’ll have to pry that man’s curves from my cold, dead hands. All his forms are chubby and soft, and I’ll fight you over it in the Denny’s parking lot. I also added some hyaenid traits, especially for the head shape and teeth. Hyenas are very social animals (like Beej, except no one can see him), and striped hyenas and aardwolves specifically have these tall crests of fur that run down their backs and back legs that they can raise and lower to communicate. I’d argue it’s fitting since Beetlejuice’s hair sticks up at odd angles and communicates his mood (intentional or not). And hyenas laugh. Granted they giggle when they’re stressed, but it still fits. I modeled his stripes off of both species as well. His hind paws, ears, and tail are all based off of those of opossums. Beej is very “trash animal”-coded, and I felt like the opossum traits would fit better with the Chalicotherium body than something like a raccoon or skunk. I felt a little bad about not giving him a ton of bug traits, so I tried to add mandibles, but they just weren’t looking right in earlier design drafts. I gave him a bunch of small eyes to compensate, but making him look buggy wasn’t the only reason for the extra eyes. We know from early drafts of the musical script that Beetlejuice’s last name is Shoggoth. These creatures are mentioned by Lovecraft in Fungi from Yuggoth and At the Mountains of Madness, but I’m not sure if this implies that Beej is a shoggoth, or if it more so refers to him being able to manifest multiple limbs/shapeshift/warp reality like one. In that same vein, the mouth in his chest is mostly to look scary and is just another fun little Lovecraftian trait that I felt was needed. Same to the tendrils, but that’s also a common fandom trait that is pretty much canon (to me) at this point. I might rb this with headcanons later on.

[ghostofskywalker]

hi!! i love your writing so much!!

could i request a fake dating/undercover as a couple trope with hunter and a gender neutral reader? or just the prompt “Your flirting skills need work”

no pressure tho!! and thanks!!

hello! i'm so happy to hear you like my stories - thank you for the prompt and i hope you enjoy this one!!

words: 1,128

summary: in the middle of a crowded market on Ord Mantell, you have to get pretty up close and personal with Hunter. But it's only to make sure your covers aren't blown, what other reason would there be?

Play It Cool

clone troopers masterlist || request a winter ficlet!

Hunter was a genetically modified soldier who possessed a strength you could only ever dream of, and who had been trained for most of his life to be a terrifyingly effective combat operative. His face tattoo and the vibroblade that never left his possession also contributed to his menacing demeanor, especially to those who had made the mistake of opposing the Bad Batch.

He was also a terrible actor.

Usually that wouldn’t be a problem, but this time was different, because you were currently clutching his (way too sweaty) palm as you walked through one of Ord Mantell’s crowded night markets. You just had barely been able to convince one of the local shopkeepers (a sweet old Togruta who sold hand-woven clothes) that you two were a couple, simply based on the fact that his body language and expression made it seem like he didn’t want to be there.

“Your flirting skills need some serious work,” you hissed as you let go of his hand for a moment to wipe it on your pants. You could have said something about his sweaty hands too, but you chose to hold your tongue this time. “Did they not cover this in all your special training?”

“No, they didn’t,” Hunter hissed back. “I don’t think the Kaminoans ever considered that we’d be working with any other person, because we didn’t even have a Jedi.”

“Well, you’re compromising this assignment, so you need to act like you’re in love with me,” you said lowly, wishing things were different right now. This mission may only be a simple information retrieval, but you still had to make sure that the two of you didn’t stick out (more than you already did) among the usual shoppers and passerby of this particular market. Hunter didn’t respond, but you caught a glimpse of an expression you couldn’t quite read cross his face. As much as you would have loved these roles to be real, you didn’t think that was ever going to happen.

You didn’t blame him for not noticing the fact that you had an obvious crush on him. The crushing grip of the Empire’s fist was only growing stronger by the day, and the Bad Batch had a target on their back for simply being who they were. And so when Cid had asked you to do this for her (and suggested that you pretend to play lovers), you couldn’t help the way you agreed, simply because you didn’t know if you would ever be able to live the real thing. However, you could have never expected just how awkward Hunter was when it came to this stuff.

A few minutes after you spoke to the Togrutan shopkeeper, you noticed a burly looking Rodian hovering around the outskirts of the market, which certainly struck you as odd for this particular setting. Rodians weren’t uncommon on Ord Mantell, but you usually saw them in groups, and the expression on this one’s face (and the fact that he seemed dressed for combat) certainly seemed concerning.

After a subtle nod in his direction, you and Hunter began to tail him from a safe distance. Soon however, a clear issue arose: the Rodian had gone down an alley, and it would be considerably more difficult to follow him without raising any kind of suspicion.

Unless of course, he believed you were in the alley for a completely different reason.

With a silent sigh, you resigned yourself to your fate and tried to think of the best way to explain to Hunter what you were about to do. Eventually, you decided that it was probably best not to say anything, and instead just hope to the Maker that he trusted you enough to make the best decisions, and that things wouldn’t be too awkward between you two once this whole evening had concluded.

He looked a little confused as you began to drag him into the alley, because he had clearly weighed the options (and the risk) here. “Trust me,” you whispered, silently hoping that this was the right thing to do. Positioning yourself against the outside wall of a nearby building, you squeezed Hunter’s hand a little tighter and pulled him towards you, all while listening for any snippets of conversation deeper down the alley.

“We can get that to you,” a gruff voice said, and you knew that this was likely the information you were sent here to get. “For 300.”

“Fine. How long is it going to take?”

“A couple rotations maybe, but I’m sure we can work something out if you need it quicker than that.”

In order to keep up the ruse, you couldn’t exactly be taking notes as you listened, but you tried to commit all of that to memory for later. You also hoped that neither party would re-trace their steps towards where you were currently standing, but you weren’t that lucky, and soon you were faced the impending reality of being found out.

“I’m going to do something, and I need you to trust me,” you whispered. Hunter had barely began to nod when the footsteps started to grow closed, and all you could do was grab his face and kiss him.

You weren’t a trained actor, if you wanted a kiss to look real it had to be real (to a certain extent). The shadows offered some form of cover for all this, but it wasn’t enough. You had originally planned to keep an ear out for any kind of trouble, but the fact that Hunter’s lips were so soft, and that you had been dreaming of this moment for quite some time, really made it hard to concentrate. That, and the fact that he had moved both his hands down to rest on your waist as he kissed you.

When you finally did pull away from him (and made sure the coast was clear), you immediately apologized. “I’m sorry for springing that on you, but we didn’t have that much time.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make things weird between us and-”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off. “Everything is fine.”

You nodded, not sure what else to say. You wanted to kiss him again, but now did not seem like the right time for that. All you could do was hope that one day you would be able to admit how you felt about him to his face, and that he felt the same way about you.

And as the two of you walked back through the market with the intention of heading back to Cid’s, you did realize one pretty important thing.

Hunter was still holding your hand, and it felt a lot more natural this time around.

- the end -

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