#but like i said. she'll have her time to shine

[khyann]

Can pretty please info dump things about Pearl or Gem or Pearl and Gem from your Champion of Exor au?

There really isnt much for me to info dump either because there just isnt much story to tell or cuz it enters spoiler territory but i'll give what i can 😅

For starters: Neither Pearl nor Gem know about all the other worlds Sausage traveled to in an attempt to save Pearl and stop the Rapture. Scott kept his memories due to a strange convergence with Sausage's dimension-hopping abilities, so everyone in that world is about the same as they were around mid S1 minus the corruption, but some things are different

Starting with Gem she is sadly more formal than friendly with Scott. This is because Scott was pretty reclusive before Xornoth returned and only begun to get close to other people like Gem and Shrub because of it. Since in this world that never happened, from Gem's point of view the reclusive prince of Rivendell suddenly became more open and friendlier towards her and the other rulers. She also isnt as powerful as the Gem from the original world was since she hasn't had any need to gain more power to protect others, but she is just as skilled. And for obvious reasons she doesnt have Violet here.

As for Pearl's situation is kinda the opposite in the sense that while Gem had someone she wasnt close with suddenly wanting to approach her, Pearl had someone close to her now keeping distance aka Sausage. It took Sausage a few months of being in that world to finally start feeling like he wasn't gonna break into hysteric cries everytime he approached Pearl (as much as he'd like to deny it) and it was solely because he found out Xornoth never got corrupted in this world so that means no Rapture and most importantly: No Pearl dying.

But of course Pearl didnt know any of that. All she knew was that her favorite sparring buddy out of nowhere started keeping distance from her, keeping their interactions at the bare minimum and opting to spar alone instead than allowing her to join him for some friendly matches. But she knows Sausage and she knows he wouldn't be acting that way just because and is probably overcompensating for something she isnt aware of yet, so she decided to just give him time and space until he finally started talking with her again.

Angst aside Pearl is basically the same Pearl in canon. Warrior queen always up for a good fight or just having a good time with her friends.

For now there isnt much in the story about either of them since their original selves had to rise to the challenges when Xornoth tried to take over the world and in the case of Champions!Pearl and Champions!Gem they are just living through an age of peace.

Their time to shine will come once Exor's new champion gets contacted by the evil god. Specifically Gem.

[wannabe-all]

I feel the need to be kissed so so much and to be loved and held and touched and everything that it feels painful. I want to be kissed so so much I end up laughing and smiling against the lips of the other person. I want to be caressed and pampered, to have someone struggle to peel a grapefruit only to end up peeling it myself to give it to them. I want to feel human skin on mine again and again and again.

I want to be kissed so so much that I forget I don't like kissing

[itsmebytch001]

PILOT:

Angel had noticed Alastor had barley moved from his frozen stance awaiting by the door like a statue looking off into the distance clutching his staff with an unusually tight grip.

Angel: "Hey Husk, what's got Al all frozen like that?"

Husk looked up from his rag shining his glass and glanced over to Alastor still frozen and unblinking.

Husk: "Ugh, His kids coming to visit, they don't see each other often but whenever they do see each other, Al makes a whole big thing of it, stressin me out" He grumped out.

Angel: "His daughter? How is that possible? Ain't me like, Asexual or something? How you gonna have a kid if you won't bone?"

Husk: "I dunno, maybe she's adopted, she got his eye's though"

Angel: "Huh, so you've met her?"

Husk: "A couple times"

Angel: "Is she like him...with the radio and the tentacles?"

Niffty: "Nah"

Angel: "Ah! Niff Jesus we gotta but a bell on ya, you can't just run up on a guy like that jeez"

Niffty: "She's more into modern tech, and no tentacles, none that Ive seen" She said caressing her knife slowly.

Angel: "aha, well why she coming in now? it's been like five month's I ain't never heard him talk about her"

Husk: "No idea, last I heard they fell out after she brought a TV"

Niffty: "The guy hates Tech" She said, scratching her knife into the wooden table front of the bar.

*knock Knock*

Alastor's already strained smile expanded to reach his eyes as he strides to the door swiftly opening the door to reveal...

Alastor: "Y/N! So very good to see you my dear, Oh how I've missed you" He said pulling her in to the foyer in a tight, unnatural embrace , Angel leered over to get a proper look at her, from across the room little could be seen her face squashed into her fathers torso as she pushed herself away he squinted to look at her face, and indeed he did have his eyes, but little else, except the yellow teeth.

Y/n: "Good to see you to Dad, I've missed you too i guess" She said under her breath.

Alastor's eye twitched, you had just walked in the door and already you are testing him.

Alastor: "I heard that My love, keep your snide little comments to yourself, m'kay?" He asked, snapping his neck to the left.

Alastor: "Chum's! come greet my dear Y/n won't you?!" He bellowed pushing you towards the bar by the small of your back.

Y/n: "Dad, I already know Niff and Husk I-"

Alastor: "OH! but you haven't met Angel Dust, oh he's such a character" He said practically shoving you onto a stool across from Angel.

Y/n: "Hey Husk"

Husk: "Hey Y/n...you want me to make you something?"

Y/n: "Yeah, Gin and Tonic please" You said slumped over the bar.

Alastor: "She'll take a strawberry lemonade"

Y/n: "Dad I'm too old for thi-"

Alastor: "She'll take a strawberry Lemonade" He said again sternly looking you in the eye.

Alastor: "Now my Dear, where oh where are you belongings'?"

Y/n: "Just outside the door" You answered as Husk poured you a Strawberry Lemonade passing it over to you.

Alastor: "Good good, Husk go take them to Y/n's room won't you?"

Husk: "I'm a bartender not a bags boy Al"

Alastor: " I said go get her bags"

Husk lowly exhaled and dragged his sorry self towards the door.

Alastor: "right well, Angel this is my daughter Y/n"

Angel: "Daughter aye? And how exactly did that happen?"

Alastor: "Why what ever do you mean dear Angel?"

Angel: "Ain't you asexual? Can't exactly have a kid if you ain't boned someone"

Alastor: "Oh! well I made her of course"

Angel: "What?"

Y/n: "He made me, as a precaution"

Alastor: "Oh no dear we've been over this, I made you because I wanted to raise you"

Y/n: "Uh huh"

Angel: "Wait wait, I'm confused did you make her as like, a Frankenstein while you were alive or like..?"

Alastor: "No no, I bared no children when I was alive I made her down here"

Angel: "Okay but HOW?"

Alastor: "with some gold dust, an old voodoo doll and a rib of mine. It doesn't hurt to to supplied with a sum of power and magic of course"

Angel: "...uh huh" he watched as Husk dragged your bags up the stairs.

Alastor: "And my lovley creation will be staying with us for some times"

Y/n: "A month, that's all"

Alastor: "Oh a whole month! we have so much catching up too do, shame you won't ever answer any of my messages"

Y/n: "maybe I would if it weren't in the form of a telegram!"

Alastor: "Oh you young people, with your phones and TV's, whatever happnded to radio"

Y/n: "oh god please don't start" He patted your head as you slumped even further down the bar.

Alastor: "Yes well, while you chat with Angel I'll be sure to arrange the others I'm sure they'll be dying to meet you"

Y/n: "Yeah, okay Dad" you said dismissively sipping on your straw, Alastor of course saw this as his body tensed forcing himself to walk off following Husk up the stairs to corral the other tenants.

Angel: "So, Toot's you don't seem all that happy to see your pop's why is that?"

Y/n: "I didn't want to come here, It's just till extermination day since that dates been moved up"

Angel: "Oh, so your coming here for safety? well this place get's attacked every other week so I'm not sure if that's a great idea"

Y/n: "Oh no, I don't want to be here, It's just my Dad is convinced my place isn't safe enough, and he goes on about how we barley chat (mainly because he refuses to get a phone) and like 'how would I know if you were slain, am I just supposed to go looking for you sliced corpse' and besdies it's not like I have a choice so here I am, until the end of this month and then I'll finally go home again and not talk to the fucker for another seven years"

Angel: "Damm, if you hate the guy so much why not just not come, technically your Hell born so I'm sure you could leave the city, go on down somewhere like Pride, or Lust he can't come dragging you back"

Y/n: "Oh, but he can"

Angel: "How? Guy can't leave the ring"

Y/n: "You've seen that keyring of that little doll on his staff?"

Angel: "Yeah?"

Y/n: "That's me. He shakes that thing a couple times and BOOM and back where he wants me, coming 'voluntarily' just feel's less shit I guess"

Angel:" Oh...Damm" he looked over around the bar awkwardly tapping his foot waiting for Al to come back while you sipped on your god damm strawberry Lemonade.

Pt 2 anyone?

[artdcnaldson]

ok remember when I said that last ask was the horniest thing I'd ever written? Well scratch that bc this is a new record. (Obligatory disclaimer if you don't like it feel free to delete/ignore it)

Imagine- if you will- tashi bringing you to one of arts games. And you're in a sweet little tennis dress and you sit next to her and watch art, not even paying attention to the game just taking in his form, the shine of sweat, the concentration on his face, the little grunts and moans. And obviously you start shifting around in your seat, because, what are you supposed to be??? Dry???? No! So, it's the last break and tashi takes you to the bathroom and makes you lean over so she can check on the situation, and your white panties are so wet they're basically see through (in an ideal world she would've banned you from wearing any just to torture you but unfortunately they're famous and with the press and everything it's too much of a risk 😞 ) and you're really hoping she'll help you out but she just goes "hmm" and takes you back to your seat. And the breaks not over, arts noticed that yall were gone and he's making eye contact with tashi and she just. Nods at him. And he's already winning but for the rest of the match he's on fire, practically wiping the floor with the other guy.

After it's over and he's won and done all the press and stuff, you ride back to their hotel, with tashi in the middle bc she's the only one who can be trusted to keep control of herself. You and art are practically vibrating, with desire and exhilaration respectively. So you get back to the hotel room and tashi tells art to go sit on the couch. Then finally, she gives you a little jerk of her chin and you scramble to put yourself over his knee bc you know that he's always antsy after a win but tashi will want to go over everything while it's as fresh as possible, so you just hang out there and let him play with your sopping cunt and ignore you, just feeling him hard against your stomach but satiated for now since he has something to do while he listens to tashis critiques. When she's done she'll give you further instructions and maybe reward you for good behavior.

(am I gonna become a smut writer this is kinda fun)

I’m so fucking obsessed. I’m on my knees. Anything to keep Artashi happy 😁🫵 just look at them

Rating: E(18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, face sitting, fingering, mild mommy/daddy kink, mild dom/sub dynamics) that’s it that’s the story. Just porn without plot

your brain is just sooo fuzzy and mindless while art’s playing with you. The cute shorts you wore beneath the dress tugged to the side, his fingers stuffed inside of you, your own juices smeared down your thigh, spilling more with each slow thrust of his fingers. It could be a few minutes, or an hour. You just know that you lose yourself in the rise and fall of Tashi’s voice as she runs through her notes, in the warm pressure of Art’s thighs pressing against you.

You must’ve gotten too loud, because Tashi’s kneeling in front of you— holding your chin in her hand, forcing eye contact. “Baby, how’s Art supposed to focus when you’re acting like this, huh? Tomorrow’s match is important, he needs to hear this.”

You whine. Big mistake. Tashi meets Art’s gaze, makes a face you don’t understand. And then Art’s slipping his fingers from your warm, needy cunt. “Clean him up,” Tashi instructs.

You wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them, cleaning any evidence of your arousal off. You take them deeper, feeling the brush of his fingers at the back of his throat. You moan softly— Tashi grabs your hair and pulls you off.

“Do you have any critiques for Art?” She asks. You blink slowly. Critiques?? What was there to critique?? “You were at the game. Show Art that you were paying attention.��

You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you looked into Art’s eyes. God, he was so pretty. And then your eyes traveled down, and he was so hard in his shorts that it was tenting the fabric. You just wanted to mouth at him through them, make him feel good. “I— I don’t.”

Tashi sighed, almost disappointed, but not really. Tennis critiques weren’t what you were there for. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She patted your thigh. “Go lay down on the bed.”

You obey so sweetly— hands by your sides, fisted in the duvet so you won’t be tempted to touch yourself. Your thighs rub together as you seek friction, need pulsing between your thighs, adding to the mess of wetness.

It’s five minutes (which you know, because you count) until Tashi and Art join you. Art’s down to the fucking obscene briefs Tashi makes him wear, straining against the fabric obscenely. And Tashi’s wearing fucking agent provocateur, so beautiful that you could die happy just at the sight of her.

“If you paid attention to the match, we would’ve been really sweet to you,” Tashi hums as she takes off your dress. The shorts are soaked so badly that she practically peels them away from your cunt. “But all you could think about was getting fucked, huh?”

You nod as she presses two fingers between your lips, pushing all the way until she hits the back of your throat and you gag around them. She stays like that, thrusting her fingers between your lips, smiling every time your eyes fill with unshed tears and your throat constricts. “It’s been a long day. Just let mommy and daddy use you.”

And you do, because that’s all you can really ask for. Tashi slips off her lingerie, putting on a show without even trying. She straddles your face, knees planted on either side of your head, and sinks onto your waiting mouth.

You moan at the taste of her on your tongue, hands eagerly grabbing at her ass to pull her closer. Usually she would scold you for being greedy, but it was the farthest thing from her mind while she was benefiting from said neediness. You eagerly alternated between lapping at her dripping center and giving her clit the attention it needs.

And then there’s Art. He pulls apart your thighs and pushes into the tight, wet heat waiting for him there. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as he sinks inch after inch after inch inside. He groans at the feeling of your pussy gripping him, pulling him in, in, in. His grip on your hips is so tight it feels bruising.

You lose yourself in the two of them— brain going fuzzy and empty. All you knew, all that mattered in the moment was Tashi, and Art, and how good you felt.

And Tashi’s moaning above you— relishing in your need to please. Even with her husband balls deep inside of you, even with your mind so fuzzy, you keep your attention divided so fairly. You were so fucking nice, she didn’t even have to take the reins— she just got to sit there and let you work her with your tongue.

You were in fucking heaven. Art wasn’t content just using— it feels better when you cum while he’s inside of you. He moves you like a pretty little doll, adjusting you just right. He puts your legs over his shoulders so he gets deeper, kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. His thumb presses against your clit, rubs in slow circles.

Tashi cums first— hips stuttering as she grinds against your face. You relish in it, licking at her center as she comes down, until the lightest brush against her clit makes her twitch with overstimulation. She moves off of you, kissing you with slow, sweet laps of her tongue. You give a shuddery gasp into her mouth.

“Is daddy making you feel good?” Her words are cooed against your ear. You nod wordlessly, only capable of pretty moans or needy whines. She turns her gaze to Art, who’s already close as is, without the attention of his fucking perfect wife.

“Close,” Art groans, meeting her gaze. Her lips turn into an amused smirk as she pushes his thumb off of your clit, and replaces it with her own lithe fingers.

Your back arches as she works you with her fingers, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Art continues to fuck into you. Each thrust is accompanied by lead, near pornographic sounds— the squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the fucked-out moans passing his lips.

Your climax overtakes you suddenly. Your back arches off the bed as you cum. Your pussy clenches around Art’s cock as he continues to fuck into you, and your release leaves an obscene, creamy ring around the base of him. Tashi’s lips are on yours, swallowing down the moans and cries falling from your lips as Art fucks you into overstimulation.

Art buries himself within you as he cums, spilling into you with a few shallow thrusts. You whine when he finally pulls out and some of cum dribbles out, making an even bigger mess of the duvet.

Tashi pets your hair sweetly, kisses your sweat-sticky forehead. Art leaves to grab a towel— you hear him dampening it in the fancy en-suite bathroom. “By the way, I thought you shouldn’t get to cum.”

Art laughs lightly as he returns, cleaning you up between your thighs. “I told her I’d throw the match tomorrow, it always works.” He kisses you deeply, and you moan against his mouth. God, he was a good kisser.

“I can always just stop believing you,” Tashi reminded him. “Maybe I was in a giving mood.” Art snorts, you meet her gaze through narrowed eyes.

She’s right where she belongs. Art’s head is on her shoulder, yours rests on her chest. You’re all just a tangle of sweaty limbs.

TASHI DUNCAN I WONT U SO BAD 😚🫵

Sorry to Art he truly is a racket and a dick in this fic

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Harry holding his bubba for the first time. 🥹

Daddy’s Little Girl.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - when i said i wanted to write something cutesy, this was exactly what i envisioned so thanks to the anon that suggested this. 😊

word count - 1.1k

in which, harry holding his baby for the first time is everything he had wished for and more.

“Would dad like to have a hold?”

The room is filled with a quiet, serene energy, a sense of calm and exhaustion mingling with the first light of dawn seeping through the hospital blinds.

You lie back against the pillows, still catching your breath, the surreal experience of childbirth washing over you in waves.

Harry is by your side, holding your hand with a mixture of awe and concern in his eyes.

The midwife stands nearby, cradling your baby girl.

Harry glances at you, his eyes wide and uncertain. He swallows hard, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "I, uh, I don’t know. I've never done this before."

You smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"Neither have I," you say softly, a touch of humor in your voice. "But she's our little girl. You'll be great."

He nods slowly, his hesitation still evident. The midwife suggests he take his shirt off for skin-to-skin contact, explaining how important it is for bonding.

He releases your hand reluctantly and stands up, the nerves showing in his every movement.

Harry pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest, and takes a deep breath. He glances at you one more time, and you see the determination set in his eyes.

He walks over to the sofa in the corner of the room, sitting down carefully, his muscles tense.

The first rays of the sun are starting to paint the room in a soft, golden light. It feels like the beginning of a new day, a new chapter. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick and palpable.

You watch as the midwife brings your daughter closer to him. You can see the fear and excitement battling within him, but there's also a deep, overwhelming love that you recognize all too well. It’s the same feeling you've been enveloped in since the moment you saw her.

The midwife smiles at Harry, recognizing his nervousness.

"It's okay, Mr. Styles. I'll guide you," she reassures him. "Just relax and take a deep breath."

Harry nods, taking a steadying breath as she positions herself beside him, your baby girl nestled in her arms.

"Support her head with one hand," she instructs, "and use your other arm to cradle her body."

Harry follows her guidance, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out. The midwife gently transfers your daughter into his arms, helping him adjust his hold until she is securely nestled against his chest.

You can see the tension in his shoulders start to ease as he looks down at her tiny, perfect face.

"See?" the midwife says softly. "You're doing great. Just keep her close, and she'll feel your warmth and heartbeat."

Harry looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of tears and amazement.

"She's so small," he whispers, as if afraid to speak too loudly and break the spell of the moment.

"She is," you reply, your voice choked with emotion. "But she's perfect."

He leans back against the sofa, holding your daughter close, his eyes never leaving her face.

The early morning light casts a soft glow around them, making the moment feel almost magical.

"Hey, little one," Harry murmurs, his voice tender and filled with wonder.

You feel your heart swell with love as you watch them together, the bond between father and daughter already forming in these first precious moments. Harry's initial hesitation has melted away, replaced by a profound sense of connection and protectiveness.

The midwife steps back, giving you both space to absorb the beauty of this moment.

"I'll give you some time alone," she says quietly, slipping out of the room with a gentle smile.

As the door closes softly behind the midwife, the room settles into a peaceful quiet, the only sound the gentle breathing of your newborn daughter nestled against Harry’s chest.

Harry looks down at your baby girl, his eyes brimming with tears that reflect the deep emotions surging within him. He gently adjusts his hold on her, making sure her tiny head is supported securely. His fingers brush lightly over her soft, downy hair, his touch feather-light and full of wonder.

"Hey there, pickle," he begins, his voice trembling with emotion. "It's Daddy. I've been waiting to meet you for so long."

A tear rolls down his cheek, but he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, he continues, his gaze never leaving her tiny face. "You know, when I first found out about you, I was scared. I didn’t know if I could be a good dad. But the moment I saw you, all of that fear just disappeared."

He pauses, taking a shaky breath, his eyes glistening. "You’re so beautiful, so perfect. I can't believe you're finally here. Your mum and I, we’ve dreamed about this moment for so long. And now, looking at you, I realise that all those dreams couldn’t come close to how amazing you really are."

Another tear slips down his face, and he chuckles softly, his smile radiant despite the tears. "I promise you, little one, I’ll always be here for you. To protect you, to guide you, to love you with all my heart. You’ve already made my world a better place just by being in it."

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his tears mingling with the softness of her skin. "We’re going to have so many adventures together, you and me. And I can’t wait to show you all the wonders of this world. But for now, just rest, my love. We’ve got all the time in the world."

You watch, your own tears flowing freely, as Harry continues to speak softly to your daughter, his voice a soothing melody of promises and dreams. The love and devotion in his words wrap around you both, creating a cocoon of warmth and security.

"And always remember," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "no matter what, you’ll always be loved. By me, by your mum, by everyone lucky enough to know you. Welcome to the world, my precious girl. We’ve been waiting for you, and we love you more than you’ll ever know."

Harry looks up at you again, a tear escaping down his cheek.

"Thank you," he says softly, his voice breaking. "For her. For everything."

You had your own tears rolling down your cheeks at this point, the emotions of childbirth and seeing the love of your life hold your brand new bundle of joy was enough to have you sobbing.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.” You smiled at him softly.

“What can i say,” He bit his bottom lip to stop more tears. “She’s daddy’s little girl.”

[moonchildstyles]

would Élan!Harry ever get jealous with (Y/N)? Seeing as to how they don't make their relationship public (yet!), people would still definitely hit on her, so how would he deal with that?

wordcount: 4.2k+

—————

"One more?" 

Harry's lips grew into a lopsided smile at (Y/N)'s request. It would never lose its shine, would it? 

"One more, but I don't want to be the one in trouble for your lipstick this time," he conditioned with a raised brow. 

"Okay, fine," (Y/N) answered right away, waving his terms off with a fluttering hand, "Just one more before we have to go inside." 

Pressing his lips to her own perfectly painted pair, Harry was determined to keep it light and fleeting, knowing that there were cameras lurking just up ahead. It wouldn't be a good look for either of them to emerge from the back of this SUV with (Y/N)'s lipstick smeared and the remnants on Harry's own mouth. 

Of course, his determination hinged on just how well behaved (Y/N) was going to be. Which, as he'd learned through the course of their tabloid facade, wasn't something that happened often. It was her that deepened the kiss with a tip of her head, fitting his bottom lip between her two. 

How was he supposed to say no to that?

She knew he'd given in as soon as he felt the faint curl of her lips against his, a smug victory smile. 

Though, her victory didn't last much longer than that. 

The ever patient—and discreet—man he was, Sully knocked on the partition as a warning that they were quickly approaching the venue of the night's party. It was Harry who had to have the power to pull away first, leaving (Y/N) with a puffed pout and only slightly smudged lipstick. He didn't even want to think about how much of the red was now painted over his own mouth. 

"Don’t give me that look," he told her, swiping a thumb over a smudge just under her bottom lip. 

His command only garnered him a set of narrowed eyes to go along with her pout. "I don't even want to be here tonight, why can't we go home?" 

"Because," he said, canting his head as she did the same, "Y'told Francesca you'd be here tonight, and I know y'wouldn't leave her by herself." 

"She'll make friends," she huffed, though Harry knew he'd won her over as soon as she turned away in search of the compact in her purse. 

"It's gonna be alright, darling," he told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she clicked open her mirrors and touched up her lipstick, "We'll go home early if y'really want." 

"I do really want," she petulantly mumbled, cleaning up the slight smudging outside of the line of her mouth. "H, you messed up my lipstick." 

That was enough to have him throwing his head back with a laugh.

By the time Sully had pulled up to the entrance of the high-rise the party was taking place at, (Y/N) had primed her appearance and put on her socialite facade. Harry had sat at her side, being her anchor as she centered herself and let the side of her personality that loved cameras and attention take over. 

"Ready?" he'd murmured once they pulled up to the entrance of the building.

She chirped out and Mh-hm a small smile on her lips. "Ready to be my bodyguard?"

"If y'can behave," he countered, sliding his arm off of her shoulders once he saw the first flashes of the camera aimed at the SUV. 

"We'll see," she smiled just before sliding down the leather seats and pushing the door open. 

Harry had no choice but to follow after her, shaking his head just before stepping out into the flashing lights with her. Schooling his features, he slipped on his own facade. Despite what the tabloids wrote and the blurry photos supposedly circulating online, when they stepped in public, Harry was her bodyguard. Especially when it comes to parties like this.

He'd be her lover later, he had to make sure she was safe first. 

The entrance wasn't packed with photographers, but there were still enough people for Harry to hover just behind her. He'd learned his lesson well while in Paris that summer—it didn't matter just how few paparazzi were following her, it only took one to push the limits. 

She kept her head down when the few waiting outside the event started talking to her, speaking over one another with calls of her name. None of them acted particularly invasive, speaking rudely to her or invading her space, especially seeing as there wasn't anything particularly scandalous circulating about her at the moment. Nonetheless, while (Y/N) politely smiled and kept her space, Harry was the intimidating presence behind her that reminded others just how important it was for them to keep their distance. 

Following as her quiet shadow, Harry kept his hands to himself as they were escorted to the penthouse floor for the party. If not for the attendant in the lift, he may have attempted to get one more touch of her skin against his, though he instead settled for a sidelong glance that had her lips tipping into a small smile. 

When the doors opened directly to the penthouse space, Harry tipped his head, gesturing for (Y/N) to go first. She thanked the attendant with a quiet thank you before she stepped into the fluttering party.

It was a decidedly more low-key event compared to the many that (Y/N) frequented, most of the attendants having spilled out towards the open air patio. The rest of the space was full of modern, minimalist decor. Walls were made of glass panelling, everything coming in different shades of cream and nude, manicured greenery being placed throughout the space in an attempt to make it look more lived in than it most likely was. Staff traipsed through the space with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of bubbly alcohol. 

"Do you see Fran anywhere?" (Y/N) murmured, her fingers joining into a fumbling bundle at her middle. 

Continuing his scan over the crowd, Harry stuffed his own hands into his pockets to keep from plucking (Y/N)'s up in an attempt to soothe her. "Not yet. Do y'know if she's here yet?" 

"I don't know, she hasn't texted me since before we left." At that, (Y/N) pulled out her phone, most likely pulling up Francesca's shared location. Her expression fell at whatever she saw on her screen. "She hasn't even left her apartment yet." 

"That's alright," he told her, keeping his voice low, "She'll be here soon. Do y'want a drink?" 

Just as she opened her mouth to give an answer, (Y/N) was interrupted by a voice Harry didn’t recognize. Though plenty of strangers approached her while they were out and about, especially at events such as this, it still put him on edge. Peering around the perfect style of (Y/N)'s hair, he found a man with dark hair and grown in facial hair approaching her. He was inches shorter than Harry, but with the way the group he'd drifted away from admired him, he could have been seven feet tall. 

"Hi," (Y/N) politely answered. Harry didn't have to see her expression to be able to picture the neutral set to her mouth and the practiced light in her eyes. 

"Sorry," the man said, voice accented with lilting vowels and an undulating melody. His eyes never  strayed from (Y/N). "I don't mean to interrupt, I was just hoping I'd run into you while I was in the city. I'm Luca." 

"Oh, no worries," she answered, just as perfectly pleasant as always, "Nice to meet you." 

Harry watched on as she reached out a manicured hand for him to shake, only for Luca to bring her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her knuckle. 

His hands in his pockets clenched. 

This was the downside to keeping their relationship on the down low—everyone loved to assume she was available for the taking. 

"Nice to meet you as well," Luca drawled, looking at (Y/N) through a fan of dark lashes. It was with a sudden glance in his direction that Luca seemed to realize she hadn't been standing off by herself. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Luca." 

With a clenched jaw, Harry offered his own greeting, reciprocating Luca's outstretched hand for no other reason than to ensure he wouldn't let it wander back towards (Y/N). 

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, voice a bit stifled as he assessed the man before him. 

"Are you—uh—a friend of (Y/N)'s?" Luca asked, taking a step back with his hand giving a slight flex before settling it into his pocket. The action had Harry's lips quirking into a small smile; it was entirely intentional just how tight his handshake was, but he would never admit that. 

"I'm her bodyguard." 

It was always with that statement that Harry had assessing eyes tracing over his form, taking stock of who he was as if his merits for his profession were painted on his clothing or tattooed on his arms. 

"I bet she keeps you busy then, this one," Luca attempted to tease as if he knew anything at all about he or (Y/N).

Before Harry could manage to snip out his own reply, (Y/N) took over. "Luca, have we met before? Sorry, if I've forgotten—I have the worst memory," she laughed, "You look familiar." 

That seemed to be just the question Luca had been waiting for, a dazzling smile settling on his features. "Ah, well," he started, suddenly—deceptively—bashful with his eyes dropping to his feet, "I am an F1 driver—for Ferrari, actually. You may have seen one of my races." 

Harry had to make a point to keep from rolling his eyes. 

"Oh wow," (Y/N) bubbled, perfect persona in place, "That's really cool! I have a friend who really enjoys that kind of thing, so maybe I've seen you on T.V." 

"Yeah?" he chirped, decidedly more willing to talk about his profession now that (Y/N) may be familiar with him, "I was just in Las Vegas for a race a couple of weeks ago. Have you ever been before?" 

Harry had to tune him out then, instead opting to look for Francesca through the new faces that had entered since being huddled in the corner with Luca The F1 Driver. Slipping into bodyguard mode, he only heard the polite mumblings of the conversation at his side, attempting to provide (Y/N) with as much privacy he could manage. 

"Right, H?" (Y/N) asked, suddenly pulling him back into the moment from where he'd zoned out pretending to look for Francesca. 

"Hm?" he hummed, blinking back into reality to find (Y/N) looking at him with Luca seemingly unimpressed with his inclusion. The thought had a lopsided smile touching at the corner of his lips. 

"We're going to be in Milan next month, right?" 

"Yes, from the ninth to the seventeenth. Why?" His question was aimed at Luca, forcing him to pay attention to him.

His smile looked especially pasted on this time when he matched Harry's attention. "I was just telling (Y/N) that I'll be racing again in Monza next month. Perhaps, you can catch the race while you're out there?" 

"Maybe," (Y/N) answered noncommittally, "I'd have to check in and see what we have planned, and Harry usually has to—" 

"No need to worry about that," Luca interjected, "I have a box you could spend the time in—I doubt you'll need any security up there." 

A tick appeared in Harry's jaw, hinging it tighter. To be fair, it wasn't the most blatant attempt to get him out of the way he'd ever heard before, but it was certainly an attempt. 

It was (Y/N) that had shrugged her shoulders, piping up first before Harry had a chance. "Oh, no," she waved Luca off with a polite smile, "Harry would be coming with me anyway."

At that, Harry could spot a small crack forming in Luca's facade. (Y/N) wasn't quite playing into whatever he had been hoping for when he meandered over to her. 

"You just let me know, then," Luca settled on, features schooled into perfection though he did stray a glance towards Harry. "Sorry, I'm being so rude—can I get you a drink, (Y/N)?" 

It took (Y/N) only a split second thought before she was jumping on the opportunity. "Yes, please, actually! Anything sweet works for me." 

When (Y/N) made a move to pull out her phone, her own quiet way of dismissing Luca to the bar, Harry had to keep his features from showing his amusement. She had casually turned to face Harry, giving her back to the bar Luca had disappeared to.

With her eyes still low, she murmured, "Is he far enough away?" 

"Mhm." 

Looking up at him with wide eyes, she whispered, "Oh my god, is he being annoying or am I just in a bad mood?" 

The exasperation in her tone was enough to have Harry letting out a chime of laughter. "No, he's definitely being annoying. Did y'really recognize him, or were y'jus' saying that?" 

"Kind of," she waved off, whatever app on her phone taking a backseat for the moment, "I half-watched a race one time with Toriana but that's it. I just wanted him to stop talking to you."

"Of course, Fran had to be late today, right?" Harry joked, sharing a small smile with her before noticing Luca on his way back with bubbling drinks in hand.

"Seriously," (Y/N) sighed before spinning on her heel to face Luca once more. "Thank you so much!" 

Now knowing how (Y/N) truly felt about her companion, Harry had to make a point to keep his amusement from touching his face when listening to the way she forced herself to pep up for him. It was interesting to him now, just how different it had been in the beginning, how difficult it had been for him to spot those differences in her personas—the split between who she truly was and who she hid behind. Now, all he needed to hear was the inflection of her voice, the arch of her spine, the gesticulating of her hands, and he could tell just where her comfort was sitting.

Luca's voice became a mumbling of monotone syllables to him, nothing to pay attention to as Harry observed the party and the patrons. He kept an ear out for (Y/N), ensuring she wasn't in need of him, though he had to make a point to keep from laughing at the sound of her faux-giggles between sips of sugary alcohol.  

Though he wasn't a fan of hearing others hit on his girlfriend, it was rather funny to hear just how clueless they were to her disinterest when it was so clear to his own ears. 

Of course, until Luca put his hands on her. 

It was slow, the way he'd grown closer to her after noticing Harry had averted his attention some. He took small steps, shifting his weight and leaning in as if he couldn't hear her over the low music playing. Once he deemed himself close enough, Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, his hand landing on the small of her back, sliding around to settle on the curve of her waist as if he wasn't clearly flinching away. 

A too loud laugh filtered from her mouth then, enough to have Harry's attention sharpening and pinning on the interaction. 

As casually as possible, (Y/N) attempted to step out of Luca's grip. Though it didn't appear that he caught the hint with the way he shifted towards her once more, closing the gap she'd opened. 

There was a moment, with the sight of his hand on her waist, fingertips dipping into the folds of her dress as they curled to the line of her body, that Harry wondered just how many grainy videos and opinionated essays would be posted if he stepped in and pushed Luca away. 

 He'd bet it would be more than either he or (Y/N) would care to see. 

It was when (Y/N) looked at him over her shoulder, a fleeting glance, one that could have easily been mistaken for a flip of her hair, that Harry stepped in. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, greedily pulling her away from Luca's grip. 

"Francesca's here," he murmured, voice just loud enough for Luca to clue into the fact that his time with (Y/N) was over.

Spinning to face him, (Y/N) looked to him with relief in her eyes. "Really?" she bubbled, glancing back at Luca for a moment though she was already heading into Harry's arms, "It was nice talking to you, Luca!" 

Harry almost wanted to gloat when he saw how Luca stuttered over himself, absently reaching out as (Y/N) slipped through his fingers. 

"Oh—Um—Let me know about Monza, yeah? I'd love to see you again before I leave the city, maybe tom—" 

"I'm really busy this week, but maybe! I'll see about Monza and have Harry reach out!" 

It was with that final remark, that (Y/N) began leading the charge away from Luca and the corner he'd huddled her into. Harry followed after her, shifting his arm until he had his palm on her bicep.

"Thank god," (Y/N) sighed once they were far enough away, "Did you hear him?" 

"I tried not to," Harry murmured, guiding her through the throngs of people, slowing when unfamiliar faces said greetings in passing, "What did he say?" 

(Y/N) shook her head. "I know more about his racing stats than I think I know about myself." 

Typical, Harry figured. Of course, once the veil was lifted, would Luca leave the shy act behind to boast about his job in hopes of impressing (Y/N).

"'M not surprised," he said, just before (Y/N) changed their course.

Instead of following the line of the bar and those gathered in the living area, she turned them towards a hallway branching off the main room. It was decidedly quieter than where the party was. 

"Do you think there's a bathroom down here?" (Y/N) muttered, scanning her eyes down the few doors lining the hall, "I want to hide for a second."

It was (Y/N)'s request—that she wanted to hide away after speaking to Luca—that had him trying his hand at his own exploration. Even if he didn't hide a restroom, he would find somewhere quiet for his girl to decompress. 

On a whim, he reached towards the handle of a passing door. Pushing it open, a pristine bathroom sat inside. Convenient. 

Gently pulling her over the threshold first, Harry made a point to take a look around, intending to catch if anyone had wandering eyes that had landed on them. Though he couldn't be sure no one had caught them stealing away together, at least no one was watching as they went into the bathroom together. 

Setting her drink on the counter, (Y/N) sat on the edge of an elaborate tub with a heaving sigh. Her shoulders settled down, sloping downwards as she looked up at the ceiling for a second. 

"I don't know if I've been that annoyed since Paris," she muttered, rolling her neck. 

A small smile settled on Harry's lips then. Leaning against the marbled countertop, he crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed at her. "Maybe we should've stayed home, hm?" 

"I told you so," she countered, looking to him with amusement in her eyes. "How much do you wanna bet that Fran hasn't even left the house yet?" 

He watched as she pulled out her phone from her purse, checking through whatever tabs she had open before he unfurled from where he was leaning against the counter. Crossing the pristine tiles under his feet, he crouched in front of where (Y/N) was huddled on the edge of the tub. 

Placing a hand carefully on the bone of her ankle, he whispered to her despite already being alone in the space. "Y'alright?" 

"Yeah," she sighed, slowing her tapping on her phone before she dropped her phone to rest on her lap, "He was just annoying—he wasn't, like... scaring me or anything." 

"Good, good," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the curve of her leg. 

"Are you okay?" she prodded, settling her hand on his cheek. 

Leaning into her touch without a second thought, he shuttered his eyes in a lingering blink. "'M okay. I don't know why, but it was hard to watch him—or listen to him." 

She tossed him a shrewd glance. "Yeah? You didn't like watching him ask me out?" 

He shook his head, cheeks stretching around his growing grin. "I didn't, actually. It actually made me a little angry. I wanted to punch him when he touched you." 

"Really?!" she bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I didn't think you could get jealous! You're always so calm!" 

"Was I jealous?" he prodded, tugging on her leg in a teasing pull, "Is that what happened?" 

"It sounds like it! You wanted to hit him?" she asked again, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial gleam to her eyes. 

"Maybe," he mused, "If he'd done anything to upset you, I might have. He was already annoying enough." 

There had to have been something in his answer that she enjoyed seeing as she pressed forward and sealed her mouth to his. He smiled into the contact for a moment, dimples in his cheeks before melting into her touch. Slotting his lips to hers, it was (Y/N) that deepened the kiss with a trace of her tongue over the pillows of his lips. 

The sounds of their lips parting and coming together filtered through the bathroom as Harry reached towards her hand on his face, wrapping his fingers around the fine bones of her wrist. It was when he scraped his teeth over the full of her bottom lip, a small nip, that she parted her crossed legs and drew him between her thighs. 

He was hyper aware of the party going on outside the door, and the fact that this was the apartment of someone he'd never met before, but at the same time Harry didn't care. 

If she liked seeing him jealous this much, he wasn't going to stop her. 

At the movement of her legs, her phone was tossed to the floor, landing on a bathmat at her feet. Neither had acknowledged the thump, until it started vibrating with a call. 

(Y/N) reluctantly pulled away with a sigh, resting her forehead on his. "It's Fran, isn't it?" 

"Probably," he muttered, blindly reaching for her phone before handing it off. 

Harry only had to see the way she pulled in a long breath, an affectionate roll of her eyes, before she pressed the device to her ear that told him their suspicions were right. 

"Hello?" she answered, drifting her hand from his cheek to card through her hair. 

Getting only one side of the conversation, Harry had to put the pieces together while watching the expressions that crossed her face. As far as he could tell, Francesca was especially amusing today. 

"Yes, we're here," (Y/N) continued, nodding along to whatever Fran was bubbling about. "Yes, me and Harry... No, she's not here—as far as I've seen anyway... When are you going to get here?.. We'll still be here; we're just in the bathroom right now." She paused just before a peal of laughter rang through the room, her nails grazing over his scalp. (The touch had a certain shiver streaking down his spine). "No! We're hiding from some F1 guy that keeps inviting us to some race next month... If you want, you can go instead. I don't know if he has a yacht, but I'm sure you could convince him." 

Gazing up at her from where he sat before her, Harry felt his own lips curving into a lopsided smile. He loved seeing her stripped down like this; she'd told him more than once that he was one of the only people he was able to vulnerable and herself around, but he'd seen just how young she was around Francesca. He could see glimpses of who she was before he'd met her, the girl who'd been around before cameras were documenting her every move. 

It had his heart rattling against his ribs. 

With his wandering head, Harry hadn't realized she'd ended her call until she hung up the phone and placed both of her hands on his cheeks. 

"Do you know how many times I've wished I could be in your head?" she told him, a small smile to her lips, "I just want to know what you're thinking—you're so hard to read." 

"'S you," he said, sincerity rivaling the lighthearted tone to her voice,"'S always you."

She looked at him with amusement in her eyes, the same way she always did when he said something adoring: as if she didn't believe him, instead waiting for the joke to land. 

He could do nothing other than surge forward and press his lips to hers. He'd always been better at showing than telling her how he felt. 

—————

thank u sm to whoever requested and for everyone who read to this point! so sorry for any mistakes, and please let me know if you have any fun ideas of your own:)

[pricegouge]

Get Her a Dog (She'll be Happier For It)

Part Four | master list | taglist | MDNI

Soap x reader, Price x reader, eventual PriceSoap x reader

series cw: cheating. dubcon. angst. cuckholding. pet play.

chapter cw: angst, pining for another man's wife

reader is fem and fat

He's low on the boy's list of priorities, it seems, his first day back from medical leave leading him far and wide across base before settling into John's visitor seat so late in the day. John didn't mind that, was honestly surprised to see him there at all considering the shallow relationship the two of them shared. What he did mind was the chosen topic of conversation.

It's late when Soap comes, the sun low enough to shine through the slots of John's blinds. That peaceful golden hour when the dust motes dance distractingly. He never gets much work done on days like this, when the sun warms his back, coaxing him outside to enjoy a sunlit fall day - a right novelty in England. It's the only reason he'd accepted the visit, Soap's knock at the door finding John elbow deep in paperwork he wouldn't have the attention span for until the sun had at least dipped below the armory building, his tablet sitting idle just wasting battery. He's low on the boy's list of priorities, it seems, his first day back from medical leave leading him far and wide across base before settling into John's visitor seat so late in the day. John didn't mind that, was honestly surprised to see him there at all considering the shallow relationship the two of them shared. What he did mind was the chosen topic of conversation.

"She said she wants what?"

"Mah bairn, cap. A baby, ye ken?"

If not for the years of training lining John's belt, he worries what he'd do to the unnervingly bright eyes Soap has trained on him in that moment. He wants to blacken them, maybe pluck them out of his pretty, dense head. He wants to see them shiny and wet with tears, red rimmed and bloodshot - doesn't know what to do with the urge, and doesn't even fully understand where it stems from either. Instead he draws a careful breath, takes a moment to be sure his voice is steady by carefully straightening and locking the screen in front of him. Across the desk, Soap looks ready to vibrate out of his seat, nerves shot beyond recognition despite the weeks of recuperation he's just getting back from. John decidedly does not think too hard about how the bird's been keeping her man tired out, the edges of his jealousy already honed sharp.

"I ken, Soap. What's this to do with me?"

John expects embarrassment, perhaps confusion. Something to show either Soap is misguided, or perhaps that there's a connecting piece John himself is missing. But the boy's eager in his response, leaning across his captain's desk with no concept of decorum. "Ye gotta talk some sense into her, cap," he pleads. "She'll listen tae ye - always has. Ye gotta tell her why it's a terrible idea, that -."

"A terrible idea?" If his voice sounds calm, it's a testament to the damage a lifetime's worth of scotch and cigars have done to his vocal chords, the constant hoarseness allowing his anger to go unnoticed here. 

"Aye, we're no' ready for a bairn, cap - hardly more than kids ourselves," he whines, and not for the first time, John thinks maybe he's right. Except -

"You are an officer. In the S.A.S." 

Soap has the decency to blanch, at least. "And tha's another reason! Ah'm ne'er home, cap! The last thing she needs is tae be raising a bairn herself."

John shakes his head, breath puffing out of him like steam. He has an urge to break his stylus in half so instead places it on the desk with unnecessary force. "Son, were you a candy striper when you said those vows?"

"Sir -?"

"Candy striper or a soldier, Soap, what were you?"

John knows his man well enough to spot the deep flush working its way up from under Soap's collar, recognizes the low set of his heavy brow. The way he himself tenses to meet it would be admirable, if not directed at his own subordinate. "A soldier, sir."

"And when you promised that woman kids, were you selling shoes?"

"Ye have a point, ah assume?"

John glowers, unable to even muster the patronizing look he usually adopts for conversations like this. "My point, is I'm not sure what you expected to happen. You gave that woman your name. You made plans for children. So why's it a problem now?" Across the years, an echo of a similar argument rings in his ears, the pleas once used against himself now slotting into place, loaded - fully automatic. He couldn't say why he was helping the man across from him, though. Loyalty, maybe. More likely, his desperate need for closure lies somehow even stronger than his growing desire to rip the other man's relationship apart.

Soap splutters. "It's no' a problem, it's jes' tha' -." He stops, squints, seems to roll his tongue in contemplation. "Well, ye kno' how it is, cap. Ne'er gonnae be the righ' time in this job."

By some miracle, John doesn't take the bait. He takes a deep breath instead, thinks about the favor he'll be able to call in after he tells Kate how level-headed he's being today. "MacTavish," he says patronizingly, revels in the thrumming of a particularly aggressive vein in the boy's bare temple. "I do know how it is, so you can take it from me when I say it will never be the right time. But you can also take it from me that it won't matter to your bird. She is lonely and wants a babe, and you're going to give her one because that is what you promised you would do."

"Will nae," the scott seethes, leaning close across the desk again. "A bairn won't fix anything, cap. She jes' wants -."

There are times when John's ability to command a room - to command unruly gits like the sergeant across from him - takes even him by surprise. It does so now, when his voice curls deep and dark and low and damn near knocks Soap back on his ass. "And something does need fixing, does it?" Johnny just stares at his captain, deflated and lost. John sighs again, drums his thumb on the desk agitatedly, the wood worn from years of use, the same spot weathered by his many frustrations. The fight might have left the sergeant, but John's still desperately searching for something to lay into, his bruised ego telling him Soap's the source of all his troubles and right there, causing yet more. Still, he has to trust the man with his life, and telling Soap if he doesn't fuck a babe into his wife soon John himself will probably isn't conducive to that end so he bites his tongue - literally and figuratively - and drags his seat closer to the desk, works his pent up energy off by planting his boots too aggressively when he spreads his legs. All tells, all things he knows the boy is trained to watch for. His patience has bounds, though, and he couldn't care less if Soap clocked him for it. "If you want my advice, your bird's a soft one. She needs something to care for, so if you won't give her a babe, at least get her a dog."

Soap blinks, leans out of John's space - a subtle bow out he does nothing to make casual. John eats it like paid dues. "Soft," he repeats. John does not close his eyes in frustration, afraid of the supple curves burned into the back of his eyelids which await him there every night, every blink. "A dog?"

"You're familiar, I assume?"

The vein in Soap's temple throbs back to life, but the boy does a decent job of schooling his expression this time. "Aye, ah'm familiar." A beat passes, Soap flicks at John's stylus - likely too deep in thought to worry about the insult of it. John debates kicking his chair over anyway. "Can't have a dog at our place."

"Then buy her a proper house!" John thunders, too frustrated to find Soap's blindsided expression funny.

He regrets it when he gets the home warming invitation in the mail a month later.

[dustytufts]

Leafkit and Squirrelkit make "travelling herbs" for Sandstorm before she goes for a walk. They're delicious, she assures the kits, through tears in her eyes. They run away proudly, she rushes out of camp for the nearest creek to wash her mouth in. Nasty, she mouths, but she'll eat whatever they make. The kits' smiles make it worth a wet face.

~~~

Had a ton of fun with this one but don't wanna bog down the main post. A lot of unrelated-to-wc process talk below the cut!

So this was a bit of experimentation with a new brush which turned into exploration into gradient maps.

The original idea was simply to modify csp's mechanical pencil brush into something that felt a bit more natural. It started with simply turning on a bit of tilt-controlled thickness and setting my colour to about 80% grey, rather than black. It didn't quite feel right, but setting the brush to blend with the subcolour on each tip, setting the subcolour to the 80% grey and the main colour to the canvas' colour, then setting the brush's blend mode to darken gave me a brush that felt like it had FAR finer line control.

The lines themselves look like this (on a more saturated bg to show how the values layer/fade in and out with pressure and tilt):

(edit to pic: completely unnoticeable when on the intended base colour*)

This is where the gradient maps come in. The way I usually change my linearts' colours is to make a new layer, mask over it, and manually paint. It gives a lot of control to your end result, but it's time consuming and often takes many adjustments to make it feel like it has enough contrast to make the drawing actually *readable.* If I wanted to add a gradient map to the lineart, it would be unable to read the transparency and would pick from the single value that the lineart is (usually black), then the transparency would take over. This gives me a dull result.

With the "transparency" being an actual colour, that gives it an actual value for the gradient map to read. So instead of having your lines fade from black to the colour behind it (often desaturating as it goes), it'll go from something like dark blue -> reddish-grey -> orange -> yellow. It adds a little something i think, and while I absolutely don't have this down pat, it could be something interesting to explore!

I also wanted to go further with this piece, namely painting it rather than a shading layer set on overlay with the aforementioned gradient maps all over it but ... it wasnt happening. The art skills clocked out for the day. That said, I definitely want to explore how this would look if I coloured everything for realsies rather than doing the fallback method. Could be where they really shine!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Mami gets hurt

When Mami hurts herself at camp, you aren't there.

She doesn't like you coming to camp with her. She says it's because it's much too big a place for a tiny little girl like you but you overheard Abuela telling Tia Alba it's really because Mami doesn't want you anywhere near the management staff.

Either way, you're not at camp. You don't even know what's going on when Abuela wakes you from your nap and brings you to the hospital.

Mami is there though, lying on a hospital bed with her leg in a brace as she stares up at the ceiling blankly.

You shift on your feet, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Mami," You say finally, voice small and weak," You hurted yourself?"

"Si," Mami replies softly," I hurt myself."

Boldly, you take a step forward and then another and then another until you're completely detached from Abuela and are standing at the side of Mami's bed.

"But...But you get better?"

"I'll get better," Mami promises but even she doesn't sound too sure.

"So you can play with the ball and win in England?"

Tears shine in Mami's eyes as she shakes her head. "Not in England, no. But later. I'll have to miss the Euros this year."

You frown for a moment, glancing at her knee. "But you'll be better?"

"I'll be better. We just have to wait a little bit longer."

Your brow wrinkles but you nod anyway and Mami turns to pick you up.

"Alexia," Abuela says in warning, stepping forward to take you.

"Leave her!" Mami snaps as she lifts you up and onto the bed," I'm not injured enough that I can't pick up my own daughter!"

You almost flinch at her tone. Mami doesn't yell like that often and it's a bit frightening but she's got you tucked firmly into her and it doesn't seem like she'll be letting you go anytime soon.

Her fingers card through your hair.

"Mami..."

"Si?"

"Are...Is...Erm...Is your knee hurted bad?"

"Mami needs to have surgery," Abuela says from the door," She's going to have it very soon. Why don't we head out to get some food while we wait?"

Mami glares at Abuela, tugging you ever closer. "She can stay here," She says firmly," Until I really have to go."

"Alexia," Abuela says," She'll aggravate your knee. Let me take her."

"I said no," Mami replies," She'll stay here with me. Why don't you step outside and call Olga?"

Abuela gives her a look but Mami holds firm in her decision.

"I'm sorry that you hurted your leg," You say after a long while of silence.

"It's okay," Mami says but her tone tells you that it's anything but," It just means that we have to take it easy for a bit, alright? It means that I get to spend a lot more time with you, huh? Won't that be nice?"

Your bottom lip wobbles. "Not if you're hurted. It's a big ouchy."

"It is a big ouchy but I'm going to have surgery, probably walk around on some crutches for a bit but it'll all be good again."

You hum in answer, still staring at her leg. "Why does Abuela need to call Miss Olga?"

"Well..." Mami moves you so you're lying on top of her, your head pillowed on her chest like when you were much littler. "Do you remember when Tia Jenni used to come around a lot? When you were a lot younger?"

You nod, careful to remain perfectly still so you don't hurt Mami's leg like Abuela said you would.

Tia Jenni used to come over a lot. She would always play with you and hang out with Mami and sometimes they would touch lips when they thought you weren't looking.

"And now Miss Olga comes round a lot instead?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, Mami and Miss Olga are seeing if we like each other like Mami and Tia Jenni used to like each other. So, I think that she should be told what's going on so she can work out if she wants to stay with me."

You frown. "Why wouldn't she want to stay with you? You're the best, Mami!"

Mami laughs slightly though it's tinged with bitterness. "I'm injured, bambi, and I won't be able to walk properly for a while. Miss Olga might decide that she can't cope with that."

"That's silly. You're the bestest even if you can't walk, Mami."

"Thank you, bambi. At least I know we're going to be good on our own."

"I'll help you!" You promise," Because you're the bestest on the pitch and you just need a little bit of rest before you can go back." You peer up at her, watching as her hand cups your chubby cheeks. "I'll walk Nala and-and I'll help you walk too...Er...And if you tell me what to do, I can make dinner!"

Mami laughs again, raining kisses on top of your head just as the doctors and Abuela - who's still on the phone - come in.

"Alright, y/n," She says softly, setting you back down on the floor," I have to go now. Maybe, while you wait, you can talk to Miss Olga on the phone? Would that be nice?"

You nod firmly. "I'll tell her how great you are!"

"You do that, bambi."

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

—PART THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Notes: Lucifer and [y/n] will see each other again next chapter 👁️👁️

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR | MISC.

A lot of timeskip...

[Y/n] sat in her office chair. Bored out of her mind. Hand fluidly moved in motion as she signed her signature in each document. Paper works. So much paperwork. Just because she finished her duties on the mortal realm for this week doesn't mean she doesn't have work to do back in heaven. She needs to do countless paperwork. Writing down every detail of what happened during her time on earth.

She groaned, placing down her pen on to the table. Throwing her head back lazily against the comfort of her chair.

It has been years since Lucifer's fall. Years after the meeting he asked for that concern about his hotel to redeem sinners.

Thinking back about it. She regrets the harsh words she has said to him during that meeting. Rather too cold for her liking.

She can't blame past her either. She was mad at Lucifer, who wouldn't?

Your best friend stopped spending time with you as he spent most of his time learning about the newly made humans God created.

And once he got the time to spend with her, he always talked about the mortal woman that God has created.

It was very annoying.

Then suddenly, he did what she warned him. Giving the fruit of knowledge to Eve that caused his fall from grace.

[Y/n] loved him, she still does.

She was mad that Lucifer neglected her. She was mad that an angel as beautiful as Lucifer chose a mortal woman.

She was... Jealous.

Now, she heard he has a family now.

She sighs, eyes looking down on her hand. The wedding ring she used to wear is now on her middle finger. She and Azrael are still married to each other platonically for shits and giggles.

They still loved each other platonically. Often having sleepovers at each other's houses.

She wondered, Azrael is such a great man. Everything she'll ever need in one. Smart, funny, sarcastic, intelligent, incredibly handsome, and loving.

It's truly unfortunate her heart lies within another.

She sighs softly. She's been doing that often lately.

As she was about to continue working, the door to her office bursts open and her ex-husband flamboyantly announced his grand entrance.

“Wifeyyy, I have tea to share. I know you'll be interested.” Azrael asked, [y/n] had to look up as the man was literally taller than her. His slicked back black hair shined against the chandelier lights. His eyes are half-lidded—showing off the golden eyeshadow he's wearing, a smirk on his mischievously attractive face. Pulling back a chair across her desk, he sat down.

[Y/n] raised an eyebrow at him, curious what gossip he has to share this time.

“What is it?” she asked lacing her hands and placing her elbows on the table and placing her chin on her knuckles.

Azrael smirked, playing with his staff.

“Luci has a family right?” he asked and [y/n] just looked at him with curiosity. Surprised that Azrael brought the topic of the fallen angel up.

“Yes, what about it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the angel in front of her.

“I heard his daughter is coming up here for a meeting, Morningstar's daughter wanted to propose an idea to... Redeem sinners. Reminds me of Lucifer.” Azrael says with a smirk and small chuckle.

“The apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.” [y/n] says with a small shrug. She wondered if Lucifer's daughter would propose the same idea like his.

“Indeed. So, are you going to attend the meeting? I heard Sera is handling it this time. Lucifer's daughter sure is lucky she won't be having a meeting with the seven.” Azrael says with a smirk before pouting a little.

“When will it be?” [y/n] asked, picking up her pen once more as she resumed working.

“In two days.” Azrael says with a shrug.

“Unfortunately I have work, all seven of us do.” [y/n] says with a shrug, a bored tone in her voice.

Azrael sighed and nodded, “Unfortunately, but... We can still attend but not physically. Eavesdropping as what others call it.” Azrael says with a grin, snapping his fingers and two eyeballs with wings appeared out of nowhere.

“We can use these. Both of us can have an eye.” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him with a raised eyebrow, curious why this man is so interested in listening to a meeting that is probably a repeat of history.

“I can see that look in your eyes that you're wondering why I'm so eager to listen to this meeting. I have a feeling that something will be revealed during this meeting and I am curious to what it is. My instincts are never wrong.” Azrael says, eyes staring outside [y/n]'s window. He has a feeling that the Seraphims are hiding something and he wants to uncover that.

“A secret?” [y/n] asked, curiosity piqued.

“Yes, I have a feeling that the seraphims are hiding something and that is a no-no especially if a high seraphim is hiding something.” Azrael says, his voice becoming serious. [Y/n] looked at him, her eyes narrowed at the possibility. The seven virtues are barely in heaven and that means the seraphims are in charge of the order up here. Lately, Sera has been acting strange but they just dismissed it thinking it was nothing. Now that Azrael mentioned it, they need to find out the truth.

“I assume we don't need to tell them we'll be attending the meeting then?” [y/n] asked and Azrael smirked and nodded.

It was finally the day where Lucifer's daughter would visit heaven for a meeting. [Y/n] sat on her couch in the comfort of her home, a third eye on her forehead. It means her consciousness is connected to the flying eyeball Azrael allowed her to use. It is currently the courtroom, hiding from plain sight.

Lucifer's daughter is really a copy of the said fallen angel. Same ideals too.

The meeting seems to be a bore, Charlie as what she learned the girl's name is, just proposed the same idea Lucifer proposed years ago.

The meeting was nothing but boring, annoying as she has to listen to Adam and Lute.

[Y/n] is still confused why that is in heaven and why he's being favored. The man is literally a walking asshole with a shit personality.

Azrael is probably in the same boat as her but he's back on earth doing his duties while simultaneously listening to this meeting.

The seven does not like Adam very much. Adam is too privileged.

Though, her views on the hotel changed as Charlie showed the progress of her guest, a demon named Angel Dust. Perhaps this silly hotel might actually work.

[Y/n] was about to stop listening and watching the meeting when Adam said something that caught her interest. Something that made her heart drop.

Exterminate... Extermination...

Of human souls.

Based on the reactions of other angels in the court, it was only Sera, Adam, Lute and other exorcists who knew about it.

Demon or not angels have no reason for doing this.

She's pissed and she could feel Azrael's annoyance from the eye she was using.

Who gave Sera the right to play God?

And the fact she didn't let the seven know about it is inexcusable.

The meeting ended and the two eyeballs remained hidden, eavesdropping on Emily and Sera.

So she's doing this because the demons were uprising?

Didn't they like to took care of it years ago? This just showed that Sera has no belief that heaven can handle a mere uprising of demons.

If the seven wanted to they could wipe out the entirety of hell. But no, there's no need for that. They have far more important matters to deal with such as trying to minimize the evil slowly growing on earth.

Hell couldn't steal heaven, they'd be dead before they could even enter the gates.

The third eye on [y/n]'s forehead closes and disappears. The others needed to know about this.

The others were concerned about this, angry even. Heaven does not need to do this yearly cleansing but apparently it has been happening for a few years already. So many human souls are killed by the hands of angels.

The seven talked about this with their creator and of course, he didn't listen to their concerns about this. Though, he did promise that if a soul is actually redeemed then the cleansing isn't necessary and Sera would be placed on trial as the seraphim didn't tell the seven nor god about this decision. The seven virtues didn't tell Sera they knew and just continued doing their duties. They trust their creator, based on his voice. He knew something that they don't.

[Y/n] has a feeling that this silly hotel might even work and she can't wait to finally put Adam, the exorcists, and Sera back to their place. To remind them where their power lies within the heavenly ranks.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Mizu Being Jealous•°

Mizu isn't naturally a possessive person by any means. She knows the shit women have to go through, being controlled by others and the world.

So, she'd never be dominating towards you or think she has any say in what you do.

That being said, while she trusts you wholeheartedly... she doesn't trust other people. Particularly other men.

Men who view you as just a pretty face. A prize they'd want nothing more than to steal away from her.

Now that just won't do.

See, if it's an easy matter such as someone touching you or groping you without your consent, say no more.

Their fingers? Gone. Their arms? Sliced clean from their body.

If some sleazy flesh trader sets their eyes on you and begins chatting you up, their hand sneaking to places on your body only meant for her touch alone, well...

They're dead. Plain as that. She'll waste no time in tearing them to shreds with her sword, their viscera painting the walls.

And, with blood stained hands she'll cradle your face, her cold demon exterior vanished.

She'll look at you like you're her whole world, which you are. She will protect you to the ends of the earth.

When it's a lascivious man vying for your attention, Mizu doesn't get jealous. She gets protective.

But, when it's not? Well that's another story.

Sometimes it's a girl at a brothel and she takes a liking to you.

The girl will be sweet where most men aren't. She'll smile at you and gingerly slip her kimono off her shoulder.

The sex worker will talk with you, with the hope of something more. Her eyes shining and all the while you seem to be enjoying yourself.

That sets Mizu on edge. Leaves her feeling twisted inside.

Because you should be with someone else.

Someone not hellbent on revenge. An impure demon with a vengeful, angry soul.

The girl would be a better match maybe or someone like her.

Perhaps not a sex worker but someone who can take care of you better than the blue eyed Samurai. Give you a normal life in ways she cannot, at least not until her revenge is complete.

Mizu won't rescue you from the girl because you're smiling and content. Instead she will let you be, never mind the hollow ache in her chest when she sees you start to laugh.

You were just chatting with the sex worker, conversing on friendly terms, regardless of the girls intentions. But, how could your beloved Samurai know that from a distance?

Like an internal echo in your body, you'll feel Mizu's absence immediately and you'll go out into the snow capped village to find her.

She'll be alone beside a natural hot springs, sapphire eyes sad behind her orange lenses.

You'll curl up at her side as if she were your shelter, your blanket.

You'll know right away how she feels. Having learned how to read her slight expressions like the back of your hand.

Mizu is jealous but more than that. She's feeling like she's not good enough for you.

A ridiculous thought really. She couldn't be more wrong.

You'll reach out to take off her glasses and thread your fingers through her hair, undoing her up-do.

"I love you, Mizu. Only you. It will only ever be you who holds my heart."

Her gaze softens from your tender touch. She'll take your hands in hers and kiss every knuckle.

Her mouth, warm against your skin, travelling up your arm until her tongue reaches the moonlit column of your throat and she plants a wet kiss along your necks pulse.

Mizu doesn't deserve you, she thinks. Still, with you in her arms, open to her, your pupils blown wide with sudden lust... who is she to disagree with your choice?

Perhaps the gods gave you to her. A gift for her cursed existence.

"Say it again." She'll whisper against your flesh, hot to the touch despite the winter. Hot from her.

Her fingers deftly untying your kimono, her hands grabbing at your hips as she pulls into her lap.

Her calloused digits digging into your thighs to spread them for her, your chest pressed against hers...

Her fingers tracing your hipbones, making you shudder...

You gasp when they ghost over your navel and down... and further.

To in between your legs. The spot that craves her and is glistening like the hot springs rippling surface beneath the moon.

"I love you, Mizu." You'll moan.

She can't get enough of the sounds you make. Just for her.

"I belong to you." You'll whimper.

Ah, like music to her ears.

Despite Mizu's feeling of jealousy and her worry of being an undeserving partner, she believes you above all else.

You chose her, a miracle really, so she'll do anything to make you happy.

"You're only mine, huh?" She'll rasp, seeking reassurance, between kisses and gentle bites along your skin.

"Y-Yes. Only yours." You'll pant, her expert fingers bringing you to the edge.

Mizu smirks and holds you even closer. She could tease you longer, draw it out like usual but she wants to be good for you. Give you what you need.

In a moment of softness she brushes her lips against your collarbones...

"I love you. You are my life." She'll say to you before making you come.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

------------------------------

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

[daenysx]

hi darling can i request some modern!aemond like getting home after work suuper tired and just wanting to lay on the couch with his girls and then his wife made a super cute romantic dinner and shes waiting for him with baby alyssa and they have dinner and just cuddle in the couch seeing some movie and seeing their baby playing🥲

i hope you enjoy <33 requests for dad!aemond are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

"there it is." you say, giggling with alyssa in your arms. "they look so nice, aren't they, baby? we're gonna light them when daddy gets home."

the shiny candles are exciting for an almost two year old baby. she loves touching them, glittery surface tickles her fingertips. they are the last pieces on dinner table, a part of a nice evening you want to have with aemond. he'll be at home any minute.

"did you like your dress?" you ask alyssa as you wait. it's a red dress that fits her tiny body perfectly, her silver hair shines, and her chubby cheeks are blushed with the attention you give her. she nods, holding onto you as you fix the skirt of her dress. "you look so pretty. daddy will love this dress."

alyssa giggles. the thought of her daddy loving something must be so nice, she loves getting compliments from aemond.

you're both excited when the door finally opens. the center of attention is aemond suddenly, you're walking towards the entrance to greet him. alyssa shakes her legs excitedly, she's making cute, baby noises which never fails to make her parents smile.

aemond kisses you first. he looks a bit exhausted but he's quick to press a little kiss on the baby's cheek before leaving to wash his hands. when he comes back, the table is all set, candles are nice details.

"hello." he says to alyssa, taking her into his arms. "hi, pretty girl. how are you?"

"fine!" alyssa wraps an arm around his neck. aemond fixes the collar of her dress.

"look at your dress. don't you look gorgeous?"

"gor-geous."

he extends his free arm to you. "don't think i didn't realize your dress." he says with a flirty smile. "you look incredible."

"thank you." you give him a kiss. "you must be hungry, my love."

the three of you settle down around the dinner table. alyssa has her tiny plate in front of her with her favorite food. you blow out the candles before starting to eat.

quiet words are exchanged, aemond talks briefly about work. you tell him all about the new words alyssa said. she babbles, reacting everything you say with her baby voice.

"you look tired." you say to aemond. the lines on his face are showing more than they did yesterday.

"we had a long meeting with the lannisters today." he explains. that's all you need to know to sense how stressed he's been today.

after dinner aemond cleans up the dishes as you change alyssa's dress into something comfy. you also change into your pyjamas, tidy up the living room from alyssa's toys on the floor. she's not sleepy but she'll probably drift off on aemond's chest later.

aemond offers to pick the movie this time, and with the help of his baby you decide to watch inside out for the third time this month. alyssa is fond of the movie, even though she doesn't understand the context very much she loves the characters.

just like you guessed, she plays with her doll, sitting next to aemond as she watches the movie. when aemond pulls her into his lap, she puts her head on his chest and closes her eyes. he rubs her back, calmly sipping his tea.

an adorable snoring sound rises in the room and you laugh. aemond pulls you against his chest as you fix your girl's hair, stroking it softly. she falls into a deep slumber.

"do you wanna watch something else?" you whisper to aemond.

"no, sweetheart." he answers, whispering. "that's quite okay."

[blingblong55]

The end is here...right?-Simon "Ghost" Riley

photo credit @ave661 middle pic Not edited at all!! ---- F!Reader, angst? idk, cheating ---- A/N: honestly, don't even ask me what this is, I felt the need to write this very late at night...so I'm sorry

"I love you." Oh, what a miserable way to begin the end of this love story. How did it end? How did his smiles, kisses and most importantly those eyes that shined when they looked at you end? Why must love be this evil? Soon, after this funeral you and he will walk away and be strangers once more.

One more glance, maybe one that explains why he fell out of love. Maybe it is a hopeful word for a fool like you. If only love was a joke, at least one you understood but it isn't and now you're dying in a room whilst the walls scream at your foolish heart. Can you pretend he never existed? Can you call him and have him there as he holds your lifeless heart? This book that you made wasn't one for the weak. This book was made for those who needed a reminder that they needed to leave. Was it toxic to have him love you that much and then rip it away from you just before you told him the dreams you wanted to have with him? Was it evil that you had already planned a life with him? or was it vile to have you this in love with the idea of a man who couldn't love you like you wanted?

There will be a day when he fades but today isn't that day for he tattooed his name on your heart for the next millennia to see…to whisper about when they hear the chapel weep for a love that it never got to seal. Oh, what a cruel man must Simon but to have you in bed, to kiss your body like there was no other woman for him. Wise men do say death is best when it isn't by the hand of the lover. If only he warned you about him.

His smile will forever be engraved in you just like his lips will be left with scars that once were butterflies on you. "I'm not a good man, love," he once told you and oh what a fool were you when you didn't listen. Did the weeping willow tree not warn you? "You're in terrible danger." it once said but you brushed it off.

His things are still there, his jacket on the chair like the night he came home and hugged you. Did you know it'd end with you waiting for him to come home again? He was here to destroy you and what a job he did.

Maybe someday, in an alternate universe, he hadn't left you for her. Maybe he would have stayed and completed the dreams you once had. And just perhaps you'd be religious to thank whatever is out there for him.

Tonight you curse whatever is out there.

He was never to keep, maybe he should told you that.

Does he love her like he did you? Maybe he kisses her shoulder but does he move the furniture so he can dance with her in the middle of a drunken midnight? Midnight…hm..what a time to be dead and buried with his memories on your headstone.

He was yours.

He was meant to be yours.

Will you one day confess you left the front porch light on in case he needed a guide back home?

"Forgive me, I have sinned. I committed murder, not literal murder but of my own heart," you whisper to the altar you never got to say your vows to. And maybe she'll hear his vows but you swear yours are sweeter than hers.

As the midnight falls, you aimlessly walk to the haunted chapel. The rain pours as you look at the windy sky. You sigh and maybe that should've been your last one for what is life if not with him.

You don't need much, just need him. Maybe you can sacrifice anything…for the love of all hell… sacrifice anything to get him back.

As you sit on the stairs of the chapel, you look dishevelled. There is a ring on your hand. The one he gave you one Christmas when you mentioned you liked the design of one. What a cruel idea that must've been. Your thumb runs over the designs and tears cascade down your face but it's oh so beautifully covered by the rain. "I love you, Simon. I…I fucking love you and it's killing me." you say before you break down in sobs. There's this feeling, the feeling when you cry too much your chest begs you to stop, where your head aches and your face begs to stop this pain.

You hold onto yourself, maybe this way you'll heal some of the love he took with him but it won't until you have him there.

Is it idiotic to want him back? Yes, but damn does it feel good to want him. So what if he broke your heart? Maybe no one understands this feeling. Maybe the poets were right.

You must let him go, it is killing this aching and weak heart of yours.

You do just that. The ring is left on the steps of the chapel and walk away. What an awful way to mourn the loss of his love. The rain will cover your tracks and maybe you can disappear for a little while.

Once you disappear, there is a shadow man who also mindlessly walks to the steps of the chapel. He sits down on the same steps you did. In his heart, there is a funeral that is happening. He lost something…someone. This man is bitter. There is a sour taste he leaves wherever he goes. Does he know the sour taste he left in you?

There is a story that goes around about him and you know it better than those that tell the story.

As he sits there, he looks at his hands. Did he kill his lover? Not physically…well…yes and now but he killed her heart. He is the doctor that collects hearts and he has yours in a golden jar.

As he looks down, he finds the ring he gifted you. As his eyes wander around the area, you are never to be found at least not anymore and maybe he will find you in his dreams. That's the last place you haunt with that ever-lovely smile he oh so adores.

Those who love are fools struck by Cupid.

He holds the ring and lets his thumb run through the designs he will never craft for another lover. He hums and shuts his eyes. If angels were real, they'd pity him and put him out of his misery.

There was a film about this kind of love out there and maybe you two are fools recreating it but adding real emotions into the mix.

"I love you, even if you'll be the end of me," he whispers as he sighs and lets the tears fall.

The end is here…and it wants to sweep you away but Simon clings to you. Was there another woman? No, he lied and it was a damn good lie so he'd let you live the life he can never give you. He is a bump, a major one at that, in your life and maybe one day, you'll forgive him when you sit down with the actual man of your dreams.

Love, what a stupid word.

A/N: not tagging anyone because I don't even know what this is anymore

[wosoluver]

There's a place for you hc

Part 1

Claudia Pina Masterlist

Patri Guijarro Masterlist

Little moments

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Vicky! Come back here!" you yelled running after the younger girl, that as usual made everything in her power to have fun annoying , not only you, but the whole team. "That's not funny!"

But before you can mutter another word, Patri trips her, making Vicky fall hard, face first into the grass, dropping your phone.

"Be careful, Alexia will kill us if she gets injured!" you say hitting the back of her head playfully.

"A 'thank you' would've been nice!" she follows, looking up to you.

"Thank you, my knight in shining armor for saving the day once again!" you say mocking her a little.

"Oh just kiss already!" says Cata from her spot, sitting next to her friend on the ground, while Pina looks amusingly at the scene. And at the constant bickering between you two.

"Don't start giving Y/N ideas!" said Lucy.

"You know she'll take them!" completed Ona.

You only shook your head laughing as you walked away not entirely denying it.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Bon dia, meus amors!" you say coming into the gym to start the workout for the day.

You noticed that Claudia, usually playful and cheery looked a bit tired and not in the mood at all to be there.

"Hey, anything up with Clau?" you said coming to do some pushups next to Patri.

"Uhm not really, she's been like this all morning. Almost got attacked for asking if she wanted a bit of cinnamon on her coffee!"

"Who even puts cinnamon on coffee?" you gave her a disgusted face.

"She does! Well, sometimes."

You decided to follow the girl into the locker room after you were done.

Claudia was taken by surprise when you hugged her, sitting next to her. She looked up at you, questioning silently.

"You look like you need a hug." giving her a small kiss on her temple. "I can get you a warm towel you can use as a heat pad, if you want?"

"How'd you know?"

"We have a similar menstrual cycle, and I've heard Guijarro almost lost her head this morning. And honestly that's exactly what I feel like doing, when I'm on my PMS."

"Thank you." she said as you got up to get what she needed.

Jana shook her head wondering when would you guys ever move out of the friend zone.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"You, Cata, Salma, Paredes and Ona with me." said Patri pointing at you, picking out her team for the day's training.

"Not again!" you said with a groan. "Alexia please! I want to be in the winning team at least once in my life!" you said looking at the older woman who was captain of the other team, adding a small laugh at the end.

"Maybe if I didn't insist on picking you as a defender every time, we wouldn't be losing!" Guijarro rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"It was just a joke," you put your hands up in defense. "I love doing charity work." you said looking at the others in the group. "No offense guys."

They laughed along, knowing you just wanted to spite Patri.

"Since you're being so selfless today, can you please manage to stop Pina's attacks?" she says back with a clever smirk.

You only passed her the ball while sticking out your tongue. And she remembers wishing she could have you doing that in between her legs.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

You guys got ready to play yet another clássico. The superiority of Barça was already proven, but it was still a lot of fun work, for you to deny them goals, and for your teammates to get the ball past Misa, as many times as possible.

You greeted your rivals as the game was set to begin. The game had been heated as usual, a lot of fouls committed, and by the second half you had already received a yellow card, a few substitutions were made by the 65' minute mark, and Pina joined the game.

You tried your best to keep it in your lane, but you didn't mind dabbling into other positions, so when you had the chance to cross a ball to Claudia, you did and she managed to score beautifully, after a solo play.

You ran along to hug her and celebrate. You had been in a group hug, when she interlaced her fingers around your head pulling your forehead to hers, giving you a slight nod. Sharing a sweet moment, blending your beads of sweat together.

Pulling apart you noticed Patri holding onto the both of you with a big proud smile.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Can't wait for the day to be over." you sighed disappointed.

Today had been a tough one. It seemed like every other play you tried to complete failed, your passes weren't assertive enough and you held yourself to high standards and maybe too high for your own good.

Having a bad day felt like the end of your career, ignoring completely the fact that you were a human being and that lows happen.

"Can't take another ten minutes huh?" teased Patri.

"Stop it." you said, brow raised warningly at her. It wasn't like you to cut the jokes short.

"You look stressed." changing into a concerned tone.

"I am." you said barely above a whisper. You weren't one to talk about how you felt, not when it came to your unhealthy relationship with work.

She only nodded her head, putting her phone on her pocket.

"Hold this?" she said handing you her water bottle. "Okay, hop on."

"Why?"

"I'm piggybacking you to the locker room." you two shared a moment of silence as you gave in. Feeling thankful for that small favor, from her.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Lovely anon, thank you for this idea! I love it so much, I just don't want to give away the plot yet! 🤭 that's the only reason why I haven't attached to your request.

Already have three parts planned for this!

Good to be back! 🩷

don't forget to like and share!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Arvin and kieran meeting a shy but sweet new girl with this team.

Tapu koko who through some magical shenanigans can't be more then a mile away from the girl with out falling incredibly ill.

A motherly salazle who has a charm that allows her to talk English

A blood moon ursaluna who's the girls main body guard and hes very protective

And a female iron valiant who acts like a big sister. Who threatens anyone that if they hurt the girl she'll cut them down

Gotta say I appreciate the addition of Blood Moon Ursa. Officially my fav gen 9 ground type <3

............

Arven

The moment he met you, he realized you were too nice for your own good sometimes...being the shy and sweet transfer student who winds up being his partner in many classes.

He might tease you from time to time, although he lightens up only after he realizes Mabosstiff likes you--which mean he has to like you as well and not accidentally be too rude.

During battle studies, you two have a match and he's shook when you suddenly bring out Tapu Koko.

Somehow you have a powerful Alolan Guardian deity wrapped around your finger...yet you never once bragged about it.

But Arven fully believes you have a Ditto or Zorua who just chooses to impersonate a Tapu, wondering when it's gonna drop the act.

Soon he finds out that nope, it's the real deal, and you have some strange connection that doesn't allow it to wander too far from you.

Otherwise, it falls violently ill and its magic abilities are weakened.

You're certain it was hexed by someone who wanted to punish it for its mischief, so you've been travelling around hoping to find a "cure".

And ofc that meant Koko had to abandon its duties at Melemele Island and become your Pokémon. It was reluctant at first, but quickly became a loyal friend to you.

Eventually Arven meets the rest of your team, including a female Iron Valiant that escaped from the crater and made herself your ally after saving you from trouble.

She's your literal knight in shining armor, acting like a big sister figure instead of an emotionless robot programmed to attack.

Oftentimes she comes out of the pokeball herself if she senses you're in any kind of danger.

Blood Moon Ursaluna is another bodyguard of yours....who is MASSIVE and utterly terrifying.

All you did was go to Kitakami on a school trip and you suddenly come back with an ancient Ursaring variant/evolution??

How tf are you picking up so many dangerous Pokémon?

Just when he thinks Salazzle is the only "normal" one on your team...

He finds out that she can actually talk, addressing him by name and asking what he was cooking one day.

For a split second he thinks her pheromones/toxins were making him hallucinate...until he sees you having a full blown conversation with her.

It turns out that she developed the ability to speak human language, using it to scare off a group of male Salandits who were threatening you.

At first, she only ever said random words she picked up from humans, but you taught her how to speak coherently and gave her some books...and now she's 100% fluent in English.

All in all, Arven finds your team very...diverse.

You don't really do many Pokémon battles, as they all act like your bodyguards/friends instead. But then again he's never been too battle-crazy either (unlike a certain girl he knows who'd give ANYTHING to battle Tapu Koko).

Kieran

Your personality kinda reminds him of his old self: shy and sweet, oftentimes hiding behind protective figures, etc.

Part of him kinda hated it, but he was good at hiding it.

Was instantly impressed by your Pokémon team, especially the robotic-looking Gardevoir/Gallade hybrid.

Although being a country boi he's bewildered about her LED eyes and her robotic trills, and is definitely not too thrilled about all Pokémon looking like her in some distant/potential future.

Tapu Koko leaves him bewildered, especially when you explained your connection to it while it roamed around the coastal biome, reminiscing about its home in Alola.

He's heard rumors of the Blood Moon Ursaluna back in Kitakami, not caring for it as much as Ogerpon, but he NEVER expected to see that someone like you could have tamed it.

During a battle, Incineroar's flames almost burned you, and your Ursaluna was enraged and knocked him out with one Headlong Rush. Completely unprompted.

Since then Kieran made a point to instruct the feline to be more precise with his fire attacks..lest he became weak.

You impressed the League Club with your talking Salazzle...but at first he believes you're just being irritating and distracting..

Until she talks to him directly, and he's like "...oh wowzers..so you can understand me????"

That's the most shocked anyone in the club has ever seen their leader...

Being motherly as she is, your Salazzle often asks how he's feeling and how Hydrapple is....and he usually shuts down and tells her to mind her business.

But after Area Zero's events, when she asked him again he broke down crying and the poison/fire lizard lowkey panicked.

She had to get you to calm him down.

Since then you two have become close friends, and while in the beginning he was envious of your unique team (that also reminded him of somebody else), he realizes you thought his Hydrapple and battle setups were unique, too.

It honestly made his day.