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redladydeath · 2 months ago

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Prototype Vox headcanons because the original reblog chain was getting pretty long

Alastor goes to speak with another overlord, trying to decide whether or not he should kill them. While there, he notices that said overlord has the most fascinating little toy/pet/jester. Such novel technology… he thinks he’ll take it, whether the overlord wants him to or not!

Alastor keeps Vox around because he’s cute and entertaining. As time goes on, a legitimate friendship starts to form as Alastor realizes that Vox is far more than meets the eye— tricksy, devious, and intelligent. He learns that before he arrived in Hell, Vox was a handsome, well-respected adult man, and he isn’t too keen on constantly being mistaken for a child and treated like a joke by other sinners. A pity he has to live like that… but it’s not like there’s anything to be done for it! And Alastor must say, he’s fond of his little picture box the way he is.

With Alastor’s guidance, Vox slowly accumulates knowledge and resources and discovers that he can modify his body. He jumps on the opportunity at once— he doesn’t want to live like this anymore, and he’ll do anything to be respected (or at least taken seriously) by other people again. Alastor disapproves but holds his tongue.

Time passes, and Vox changes more and more things about himself until he’s almost unrecognizable. He and Alastor get into arguments about it. It’s galling to Vox that Alastor keeps insisting he was better off in a form he hated. Mix all this together with the modernity and “morality”/standards stuff, and you eventually get Vox and Alastor falling out.

Years later, Vox hates that he was ever that weak and can’t stand being reminded of Alastor, their old relationship, or his early life in Hell. He works hard to destroy/bury any traces of who he used to be, but Alastor is a walking, eternal reminder of the past he’d rather forget. Alastor is loathe to admit it, but he still misses his old friend. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever truly knew him at all.

---

Freshly fallen Vox seeking out an overlord’s protection because holy shit, if he tries to survive on the streets any longer, he’s gonna get killed, or worse. Most sinners get asked if they can do anything useful when they go to an overlord; Vox gets asked if he can sing, dance, and do comedy routines. He can, so he’s quickly scooped up by the overlord. He supposes he should be grateful that he was able to score a comfortable job doing something not terribly unpleasant, but the dehumanization of being treated like a doll or an adorable purse dog grates on him. He remembers who he really is (or used to be) and would do anything to be seen as a man again rather than a novelty.

---

Imagine feeling so utterly desexed by your body, finding someone you think you can trust to respect you, confessing that you’re in love with them, and they laugh in your face for thinking such a thing was even remotely possible. Alastor doesn’t do a great job clarifying that he’s disinterested in a relationship out of personal preference rather than because he doesn’t respect Vox, and Vox walks away from the encounter seething, believing that Alastor never saw him as anything more than a pet or a clown.

---

Man, this would especially suck for my hc version of Vox, who used to be a small-time Vaudevillian when he was a child. Like. Yaaaayyy, time to dance around and act cutesy for people who have complete power over you… again…… when you’re pushing forty…………

---

Vox was REALLY starting to feel like he'd made an irreversible mistake before Alastor came into his life. He'd been in the employ of his overlord for four years, and he could count the number of times he'd been allowed to leave their compound on two (four-fingered) hands. They weren't cruel to him per se, but they really did seem to see him as a pet– something to trail after them all day, do tricks on demand, and show off to colleagues at parties. Any plans he had for carving out a dignified, powerful life for himself were going up in smoke. He knew a lot of things from constantly overhearing conversations about the overlord's business, but he didn't have anyone to trade that information to because of his restricted mobility. He understood that he had some pretty unique powers, but he'd never gotten the chance to use them in combat, only to perform. It was becoming clear to Vox that the only way he was going to escape this doltish, embarrassing life was if someone killed his overlord (something he couldn't do himself due to the deal they struck).

And then the Radio Demon came walking through the door.

---

Vox really has no idea what Alastor's deal is when they first meet. Like. He kidnaps him but also says Vox can leave whenever he wants. But like. where is he supposed to go??? Alastor just killed his overlord, which, yeah, Vox wanted to happen, but now he's homeless and isn't sure how to proceed. Is it safe to stay with Alastor, or is he just going to kill him next?

Vox keeps up the "silly little cartoon" persona for a while because Alastor seems to find it amusing, but things gradually slip through the cracks. He's scared Alastor will abandon or kill him if he grows bored or dissatisfied with him, but... Alastor seems to like the real him? He actually lets him speak freely and talk about whatever he wants? He uses his tech powers to turn off the in-built censors that keep Vox from swearing?? When he realizes that Vox is actually really cunning, he wants to hear his feedback on things??? Sure, he still kinda talks down to him, but Alastor's like that with everyone. This... maybe this could be more than just trading one master for another.

---

Random thoughts about Vox’s overlord

She was enamored with him from the first moment she saw him. He was just so precious! And he was willing to do anything to receive her protection!

Her industry had nothing to do with entertainment; she took Vox in purely to be her own personal jester.

Not sure if she owned his soul or just had a deal with him to give him a safe place to live in exchange for his services.

Loved treating him like a doll. Would dress him in cute, oversized outfits, carry him around in her arms, and occasionally bring him to bed and cuddle him like some sort of plushie.

There were occasions, especially towards the beginning, when Vox would snap at her or reveal elements of his real personality. Those incidents would only lead to her doubling down on the demeaning treatment. She’d experienced mistreatment at the hands of men like him when she was alive and saw asserting her power over him as cathartic and karmic.

Usually brought him with her everywhere, but would sometimes leave him locked in her office/room by himself if she had something important scheduled. Vox had initially thought he could leave or at least walk around when she didn’t need him, but no. Besides, why would he want to leave? The streets of Hell were no place for a tiny, fragile thing like him!

Vox fucking hated her and was glad to see Alastor bash her brains in and feature her on his show.

---

Mainverse Vox died by being electrocuted by an ungrounded mic at work right before they went live. This Vox died by being electrocuted while trying to fix the family TV. His kids had been begging him to at least try to fix it since the repairman couldn’t come until the next day, and they didn’t want to miss their favorite cartoon. He was feeling indulgent that day and felt that, as the man of the house, he should be able to fix things without always calling someone else to do it for him. It didn’t end well.

---

Thinking about Vox and Alastor’s first encounter.

Alastor might have seen Vox before at an overlord event, being shown off by his boss or performing for her friends. He may have seen him for the first time when he walked into Vox’s overlord’s office and saw her toying with him. Either way, Alastor was immediately intrigued. He hadn’t seen many sinners like Vox, with his screen head and cartoony body, and could instantly tell he was a highly skilled performer. His eyes followed him, even as Vox’s overlord put him aside and ordered him to go get her and Alastor drinks. Vox could tell Alastor was watching him but wasn’t sure what to do about it. It’s probably not a good sign when the infamous Radio Demon is eying you like you’re his next meal.

Eventually, the overlord noticed that Alastor was not paying full attention to their conversation and was preoccupied with Vox. The topic briefly switched to him before Alastor inquired if she’d be willing to bargain for him. Vox was horrified. The overlord attempted to politely decline; she couldn’t bear to part with her precious little poppet. He was hers, and it would be cruel to separate them— they adored each other so much, after all. Alastor just smiled blithely and clarified: he wasn’t asking.

All hell broke loose in an instant. One moment, Vox was observing a conversation between his boss and her colleague; the next, the office was crawling with shadows, and his overlord was pinned to the wall, impaled on a tentacle. Vox panicked and tried to flee, but there was no escaping that room. There are two options for what happens next: either Vox is seized by Alastor and teleported out of the building, or Vox’s boss screams at him to help her, only for him to glance between her and Alastor and fix her with an icy stare.

No matter what happens, the outcome is the same: Vox found himself teleported onto the streets of Hell with Alastor looming over him. He frantically attempted to talk Alastor out of killing him, but Al just laughed jovially and told Vox that he had no intention of harming him. Vox was free to leave whenever he wanted, but Alastor would like to see just how entertaining he truly was.

---

As they're walking, Alastor notices a weird clicking sound coming from Vox. He asks what it is, and Vox awkwardly explains that he's wearing tap shoes and starts trying to take them off as he walks. Alastor is amused and tells him not to bother. He'd love to see him dance sometime.

---

Val: Baby? What were things like before you met me? Vox: Awesome. I had- I had women all over me, they just couldn’t get enough. Everyone was always dying to see my shows. I was voted the hottest person in Hell. It was great. Vox’s actual early career in Hell:

---

Thinking about one of the times Vox “mouthed off” to his overlord. He may be a performer, but there’s only so long he can stay in character, especially when said character is so undignified. He refused to play along with one of her little games and snapped at her that he was a man, not a fucking show dog.

Next thing Vox knew, he was nearly blinded by pain as his boss twisted his antenna nearly to its breaking point. Her voice sickeningly sweet, she told him that she knew exactly what kind of man he had been— Earth’s crawling with them. But those days are over now. Respect has to be earned in Hell; it’s not just going to be handed to him like when he was alive. The afterlife has made him a joke, and the sooner he accepts that, the happier he'll be. That’s what he signed up for when they made their little arrangement, after all. She asked if she was understood and kept twisting his antenna until she got a loud-and-clear “Yes, ma’am” out of him. With that, she snapped back to normal and either cheerfully ushered him towards [whatever she was forcing him to do] or dismissed him in her typical patronizing manner.

Vox broke half the items in his room that night in a rage. He tried to leave gouges on his skin and dents in his head, but he couldn’t manage it, what with his stupid, soft little hands.

---

It doesn’t really fit with my headcanon that Alastor was super white-passing when he was alive and spent most of his life pretending to be white in order to have more opportunities, but I feel like he may have felt a kinship with Proto-Vox due to them both being “outsiders”— people who are/were constantly dismissed by those in power and have to work twice as hard in order to be taken seriously, even though they’re more skilled and competent than everyone else in the room. And so it hurt all the more when Vox leapt at the first opportunity to change who he was in order to join the class of people who has once looked down on him. It didn’t fully click with Alastor that Vox wasn’t always like this– that he was trying to return to who he once was rather than abandoning who he’d always been.

---

Vox wasn’t exactly doing himself any favors in terms of connecting with the other sinners who worked under his overlord. He was so desperate to reestablish at least some control over his situation that, on the rare occasion he got to interact with people without his boss looming over them, he was insufferable, acting as though his position as their overlord's constant companion made him superior to regular employees. It never actually made him feel any better though, since most people either just rolled their eyes or testily reminded him that his oh-so-important job was to make a fool of himself all day and be doted on by his "owner."

---

To most outside observers, it really looked as though the relationship between Vox and his overlord was genuinely loving. She’s was just so affectionate with him. There was never a moment when she wasn’t tittering away at his jokes, or playing with his antennas or plug tail, or scooping him up into her arms or lap, or hugging or tickling or cuddling him, or covering him in kisses, or coming up with adorable pet names, or showing him off to others as though he were the rarest gem she’d ever come across. No one ever seemed to notice that Vox was never the one to initiate these kind of interactions. Depending on who you asked, it was either the most adoring master-servant arrangement Hell had ever seen, a (possibly biological?) mother-son dynamic, or just an INCREDIBLY kinky relationship. Vox played his part well, laughing along and hardly ever letting the smiling mask slip. No one ever could’ve guessed just how much he loathed her and the entire humiliating situation, or how cruel she could be whenever he dared drop the act.

Well, no one except Alastor, that is.

---

Imo, Proto Vox would just sound like normal Vox slightly pitched up, but man, Hell giving him a lisp or some other "funny" way of speaking on top of everything else would be such a gut punch for him. His good looks and his charismatic manner of speech were key to his success when he was alive, and now both of those lifelines have been severed.

---

Personal, headcanon-specific thoughts:

Proto Vox’s outfit is very similar to a costume he wore during his childhood on Vaudeville.

Alternate option: While I hc that sinners spawn naked, if they don’t, then Vox spawned in the exact 1920s sailor suit he used to wear during most of his childhood performances.

His Hell form is a punishment not only because it robs him of all dignity, but because it’s a constant reminder of a part of his life when he had no power over his situation and was treated like an object meant only to entertain.

---

Thinking about how Alastor’s “a smile is a means of maintaining control” philosophy might strike a chord with Proto Vox. When he was alive (and later, in his career as an overlord), putting on a smile was a way for him to project the person he wanted others to perceive him as. If he looked the part, then people would believe he was the confident, steady, trustworthy man he presented as. After he arrived in Hell, though, a smile became a mask he could not take off. Hell had chosen a role for him, and if he failed to play it well enough, he risked permanent death or worse. He resented having to keep that mindless grin on his face at all times. This wasn’t who he wanted to be. This wasn’t who he was. The idea that he could use that iron mask to regain control over his life was foreign to him, but it made sense. Now that he was no longer chained to a master who kept him locked into that hated role at all times, he had a choice in how he wanted to use it— for day-to-day survival or to further his true ambitions?

---

Vox and Alastor’s first encounter was at an overlord party like something out of a Regency romance, except Vox was three feet tall and didn’t notice Alastor was watching him because he was too busy performing for his boss’ overlord friends. Alastor appreciated the skill on display in Vox’s routine and was intrigued by the unusual way his “owner” treated him. Sure, some overlords treat those under them as pets, but she was so overly cutesy and “loving” with him that it stood out, especially given the way Vox feigned reciprocation. Interesting.

---

A scene/story idea: Vox is sitting at a desk in a grand, spacious office. It’s late, and he’s just killing time, wishing he had a cigar (and a mouth to smoke it with) and occasionally scribbling down notes for future reference. The stationary he’s using has the date printed at the top, though. It’s his daughter’s tenth birthday. He reflects on how it’s been three years since he last saw her and the rest of his family and how he’ll likely never see them again. He hopes his wife is throwing her an appropriately extravagant party, at least. They’d gone all-out for their son’s tenth birthday; half the neighborhood was there, even one or two of the ladies from work who had blown him in exchange for putting in a good word with the producers. It was a great time.

And then his boss comes walking in, complaining about what a stressful day she’s had, and the illusion that this is Vox’s office shatters. He hops down to the floor, taking his dance/comedy routine notes with him. His boss is busy getting herself a drink, so he hopes she didn’t notice him sitting in her chair. He starts trying to engage her in conversation, switching to his work persona (cheerful, cutesy, and childish). She did notice him, but she just smiles indulgently and says he always knows just what to do to cheer her up— he looked so silly sitting at her big, important desk. Now, she needs a bit of comfort; they’ll be going to bed now. She scoops Vox up as easily as if he were a doll and carries him off to serve as her (very angular) teddy bear. Vox keeps the adoring smile plastered on his face and tries to put aside the burning shame and rage that this is what the afterlife has reduced him to: a child, a pet, a toy meant to entertain those who wield the actual power.

---

You know, come to think of it, there’s actually some basis to Alastor feeling a bit of a kinship with Vox. Aside from the obvious shared trait of them both being communications/entertainment demons, Alastor’s demonic form is a prey animal. Al never had to deal with the consequences of having that kind of form since he spawned so powerful (unless we’re going with the theory that he made his mystery deal right when he got to Hell and draws the majority of his power from it (which would be pretty interesting in this context…)), but still.

---

Made Vox's room in the Sims

---

Vox tried to walk out of his job, once. His boss pushed him too far, and he snapped, yelling at her to find someone else to play this fucked up game with; he’d rather take his chances on the streets. Next thing he knew, he was bound, muted, and blindfolded, being crammed into a tiny suitcase. His overlord told him to reflect on what he’d said. There’s no life after second death, only nothingness. Is that really a risk he wants to take?

Vox was in “storage” for the next week. He didn’t try to leave again after that.

---

When Vox’s boss finally decided he’d had enough time to reflect, she opened the trunk to find Vox barely able to move under his own power. He was trembling like a freezing cat, having spent seven whole days bound in the fetal position, unable to move, speak, hear, or see. He couldn’t even unfurl himself from said position without her help. When she took him into her arms, he clung to her, any thoughts of hate or anger gone, replaced with a desperate desire for human connection after a week of nothingness. She cradled him in her arms— sweet as a lamb and without a shred of that odious pride she’d been working so hard to stamp out of him. Whispering kind, soothing words, she stroked his shaking, silent body as she carried him back to her bedroom. She dozed off with him in her arms, secure in the knowledge that her darling little doll had learned his lesson: being her toy is a privilege, and the only possible alternative for him is oblivion.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox and body dysmorphia

Vox hated everything about his body.

He hated being so small, not even half the size of most other sinners.

He hated his face, cute and goofy-looking. He hated his “missing tooth,” which only added to his childish appearance.

He hated his head, oversized and heavy. He hated how clumsy it made him at first, before he became accustomed to it.

He hated not having a physical mouth and being unable to eat.

He hated his voice, higher pitched than it had been when he was alive. He hated the childish-sounding lisp he had been afflicted with.

He hated how he couldn’t swear or talk about adult topics without his voice being drowned out by an in-built censor.

He hated his body and its strange combination of wood and metal, both of which bent in ways that shouldn’t’ve been possible.

He hated his hands, soft and rounded and nailless.

He hated how he had spawned without genitals, completely smooth and sexless, like a doll.

He hated how no one perceived him as anything even remotely resembling a sexual being, even though he was a fully grown man who had once had his pick of beautiful women when he was alive.

He hated how he weighed almost nothing, making him easy for others to pick up or restrain.

He hated the way nothing in Hell was built to accommodate sinners his size, forcing him to climb (or be lifted onto) things as simple as chairs.

He hated the way his boss made him dress; in baggy outfits that made his smallness even more apparent, in children’s clothes, in silly, oh-so adorable costumes. He especially hated when she insisted on dressing him herself, as if he was her doll.

He hated how often people mistook him for a child or deliberately talked down to him as though he was stupid, just because of his ridiculous body.

He hated how people laughed at him and how he had no choice but to make them laugh in order to keep himself alive.

He hated how, in one fell swoop, Hell had robbed him of everything that had made him him. His good looks, his charisma, his respectability— everything. Never in a million years would he have anticipated that this would be his punishment for his misdeeds on Earth, for looking down on others and treating them like objects to be pushed around, but he had to admit, it was a pretty potent punishment nonetheless. And he would do anything to escape it.

---

Vox’s boss was kind of massively projecting her own resentments and trauma onto him. She didn’t actually know that much about him. It was pure luck that her impression of him as an arrogant chauvinist who had treated the people in his life poorly was… you know… accurate.

---

Vox realized that he had a voyeurism kink the third time his boss had sex with someone while he was still in the room. Probably not the outcome she intended, but it wasn’t like Vox could do anything about it anyway. He still felt sexual desire, but he’d spawned in Hell without genitals, so that energy had nowhere to go. Just another lovely part of Vox’s Wonderful Afterlife.

---

Most sinners are horrified when they see their new forms for the first time. Vox was just devastated.

He was horrified when he first woke up, of course– transported to a strange new place, surrounded by giant monsters, and barely able to keep from swaying under the weight of his oversized head. No one paid him and his panic any mind, save for a few smirks and chuckles. Vox found himself pressed up against a wall, out of the way of the flow of pedestrians, and trying to process what was going on. Once he realized something was wrong with his body, he ducked into a nearby store, desperate to find a mirror (and get away from the crowds of fellow sinners). The store clerk let him in; they weren’t supposed to let newlydead into the shop since they usually just cause a scene, but Vox looked harmless, and they felt a little bad for such a tiny, fearful sinner. Vox made a beeline for the nearest mirror.

When his reflection finally came into view, Vox… he was lost for words. Seeing his childlike proportions, it finally registered that the world hadn’t gotten bigger; he’d gotten smaller. His body… there was something wrong with it. It was made of wood and metal, like a puppet; only the materials seemed to bend like flesh or rubber. Worse than that, it was completely smooth and featureless; his genitals were simply gone. His hands were soft, rounded, and nailless, more like stuffed gloves than human hands. His head was encased— no, not encased, replaced with a television set that looked like it comprised most of his body weight. Displayed on its screen was a face like something out of a cartoon: large, shiny, googly eyes, a wide mouth, and one conspicuously absent tooth. All topped off with a pair of floppy, overly long antennas that made him resemble some kind of insect.

Vox was speechless, staring at his new body. He felt tears bubbling up as he examined each part of it; he wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew this wasn’t a dream and that this form would not be temporary. No tears fell though, trapped behind the glass of the— his— screen. He couldn’t recall the moment of his death, but the realization of where he must be began to dawn on him. A soft, despairing sound escaped him, and Vox realized his voice, too, had been changed. He was not himself anymore, just this tiny, adorable thing, right out of the cartoons he’d been trying to repair the TV so his children could watch. A joke.

Suddenly, Vox felt someone grab him by the arm, dragging him away from the mirror, his feet barely brushing the floor. The owner had noticed a newlydead had snuck in and was having the prerequisite “What have I become?” freakout in their store. Carelessly, they shoved/threw Vox back onto the street and slammed the door behind them. Reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Vox stumbled and collapsed on the sidewalk, surrounded by sinners who either stepped around him like he was nothing or paused for a moment to snicker at the clumsy newlydead, struggling to regain his balance under the weight of his massive head.

---

Vox's own shitty beliefs ended up being used against him during his early years in Hell.

In life, he'd treated his wife and son poorly because they complained about being unhappy with how things were. Vox believed that if all your physical needs were met and you were able to live comfortably, you had no right to complain. He provided them with everything, and all he asked for in return was for them to be the happy, perfect wife/son he expected them to be. What was so hard about that?!

In death, the tables were turned. Vox was able to live comfortably in a safe environment, doing a job that most sinners would describe as incredibly cushy, but he was desperately unhappy. He was forced to play an inauthentic, demeaning role 24/7 and couldn't complain about it unless he wanted to be punished. Just sit there quietly and smile while the "grownups" are talking. No one wants to hear your silly little opinions. You should be grateful that you're even allowed to be here.

---

Words were Vox's boss' preferred weapon when it came to surreptitiously tormenting him, but she wasn't above using physical violence as a means of "discipline" either. Aside from the antenna and "storage" incidents, she'd occasionally employ some "percussive maintenance" at the beginning of his time with her in response to breaks in character or sullen comments. Once or twice, she burnt him with cigarettes in response to particularly "bad" offenses.

---

Vox's boss would give him gifts sometimes. Little presents wrapped up all pretty with a bow. Sometimes, they were for special occasions, like the anniversary of his "coming to live with her"; sometimes, they were "rewards for good behavior." Vox would accept the presents graciously and then never open them, leaving them to collect dust in his room. There were a few occasions when she made him open them in front of her, though. Usually, they were just quaint little trinkets or clothes, but once, she gifted him a goldfish (or the Hellish equivalent) in a tiny bowl. It was the closest to something he'd actually want, yet it still felt like a veiled taunt. It didn't take long for the fish to die; its bowl was too small.

---

Vox does his absolute best to keep his past secret from everyone, particularly Valentino. He knows on some level that it wouldn’t really change anything, other than give Val and Vel something else to tease him about, but Vox’s ego is so fragile that he feels like he’d die again if they found out. Unfortunately for him, Valentino is incredibly observant when he wants to be. He doesn’t know the specifics, but based on various little things from throughout the years and the pointed insults he’s heard Alastor throw at Vox, he can guess that Vox’s early days in Hell were less than auspicious. However, he assumes Vox was just some corporate toady, and would be just as shocked as everyone else to learn how Vox actually began his afterlife.

#redlady speaks #hazbin posting #hazbin hotel #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin #hazbin vox #vox the tv demon #long posts #proto vox au

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themellowminx · 3 months ago

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After the Fire Dies ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ MDNI

———-> fyodor x reader x dazai

You made a mistake, how will you repent?

< After the actual smut, but still suggestive content, not proof read >

“S-seven…” You could hardly feel anymore, sweat clung to your body and your breaths came in panting gasps, all you could think about was how bad you had fucked up, was that really only a few hours ago? When Dazai was holding you so tightly, gripping you in all the right places. But now, your blood dripped from the slim slashes across your thighs and stained the white bedsheets, you struggled against your restraints, straining your arm to push the silky, black, blindfold off your eyes.

“So, malishka,” You could hear the grin in his smooth voice as he teased you with that special pet name, baby, not slut, or whore, but baby. He knew you’d get it wrong. You were almost certain that even if you did guess right, they wouldn't stop. “Who was touching you just now? Who made you cum?” Sucking in as much air as possible, limbs heavy, nose stuffed and tears streaked your poor, flushed face.

“You–Fedya.” A self-satisfied hmm came from one of them, you guess Dazai by the tone. Instantly you regretted your decision. ‘Wait–actually–”

“Too late, you already made a choice.” Dazai was speaking now, his voice lacked the accent that you loved so much, but still carried such a lustful melody. Suddenly the blindfold was slowly peeled off and you squinted your tear-filled eyes to the destroyed bedroom. Frantically looking at your lover, Fyodor, for approval, you were met with both men smirking down at you. So pretty. They were both so beautiful, where Fedya was slim angles and sharp bones, pale skin and striking, sharp eyes, Dazai was stronger, softer, still lean but bigger, not as deathly-pale and a mop of curly brown hair with matching honey eyes. They made a lovely pair, and had ruined you beyond comprehension.

“Ding ding ding!” Dazai sang out, hopping on the bed next to you.

“Good job malishka, how’d you know?” You guessed correctly? Finally! Honestly part of it was dumb luck but…

“You get…when you get tired you get softer, and you also kept licking the blood from my thighs, I figured Dazai would do that too but he’s inclined to be more–well–rough.” You looked down sheepishly. Fyodor pat your head and undid the restraints on your wrists and ankles, now you realized just how exposed you had been. A puddle of liquid, cum and spit and sweat and blood, was layered on every inch of your skin. Both of them started peppering kisses along your flesh, prickled with chills yet still overheated, a kiss to the collarbone by one man, a peck in between your breasts from another, they continued and Fyodor eventually went to fetch a warm cloth.

“What did we learn malishka?” Fyodor asked you later that night, Dazai in deep-sleep on the other side of the bed, still in the aftershock of their tortuous play-time, you trembled slightly against Fyodor's bare chest.

“I’m never going to sleep with another person–”

“No, say it exactly.”

“I-I am never going to cheat on you…” You looked back up at him for guidance.

“With Dazai,” He guided your words.

“Cheat on you with Dazai, or anyone else, ever again. I only want–need–you, Fedya.” He hummed at your confession. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” He replied simply, and you drifted off into sleep, body aching and face tear-stained and salty, still naked, but warm and so, so full

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ thx for reading! :)

#im not dead #bungo stray dogs fanfic #fyodor dostoevsky #fyozai #bsd fyodor #bsd dazai #fyodor x reader #dazai x reader #smut kinda #kinda spicy #i love the dirty stuff don’t get me wrong but fr #overstim kink #bsd x reader #fluff if you squint #like squint reeeeally hard

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oh-sofarfromhome · 2 years ago

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Watch Your Mouth

CEO Harry

summary: an employee makes an rude comment to YN, not knowing who she is

warning: swearing, implied smut

—

YN steps into the conference room with her head held high, confidence radiating from her despite her fashionably late entrance. The sound of her red bottoms clicking against the marbled floor draws everyone’s attention to her, jaws dropping and eyes shamelessly trailing down her body and then back up to her face, in awe of her beauty.

Harry’s usually permanent scowl drops from his face and is replaced with a look of fondness for his wife, kicking the man beside him out of the seat to free up space for her to sit.

The man who he kicked out, Jason, was livid as he found another seat, far away from the CEO. He’d planned to suck up to him the entire meeting, but it’s kind of hard to do so from the other side of the room. He’s a new employee that’s only just started a few weeks ago, not having met YN yet.

As soon as she’s seated comfortably, Harry resumes the meeting, going over the company’s numbers for the quarter as well as discussing bonuses and answering questions for those who have them.

“This quarter’s numbers were down 7.4% compared to the last, so I’m sure you can see where my anger stems from,” he states angrily, his voice booming throughout the silent room, the air thick with tension.

Everyone looks at him silently, except for one person, his wife. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’d also like to add that, compared to last year, we are nearly double where we were, but given the time of year, it is not uncommon for our numbers to trend downward. I do believe that if we maximize all of our income for the next three weeks or so, we should be able to match last quarter, maybe even exceed,”

Harry goes on to agree with her when he hears a scoff from the other side of the room. He looks over to see Jason with an irritated look on his face, but before he can address him he’s speaking.

“Dumb bitch,” Jason mumbles, but in the silence of the room, every single person in the room whips their head to him, eyebrows raised at their oblivious new coworker. All of the employees are holding their breath, awaiting the storm that is bound to come.

“Is there something you’d like to share with all of us, Mr. Hall?” YN’s authoritative voice booms throughout the room before Harry has the chance.

“Yes, I do actually,” he states,

“You’re just a woman anyway, what do you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t even get through college on your own, wouldn’t be surprised if you used your body to get to the top,” he finishes, gasps ringing through the room.

“Jason Hall, your very new contract has now been terminated,” Harry grits out, trying to calm his anger. When Jason’s face fall and he questions why, he is quick to explain.

“I do not tolerate discrimination in my workplace, nor do I tolerate disrespect toward authority figures. You have been here a short time, Jason, but that time is up. Human Resources is located on the 12th floor, I suggest you stop there on your way out,” he hisses, watching Jason’s face crumple as he realizes what he’s done.

“Anything else you’d like to add, Mrs. Styles?” Harry questions, turning to his wife before cutting his eyes back to Jason to see his reaction. He chuckles quietly when he watches the color drain from his face and he starts stuttering out excuses.

“Mr. Hall, I advise you to learn from your mistakes, and learn from them quickly with how difficult it will be to find a job once word of this interaction gets out. Quite frankly, you do not know who you just fucked with. I have connections in every state in this country, and nearly every country in the world. I hope you have a fantastic time learning how to cook at the Burger King down the road. Meeting dismissed,” she replies, her tone firm and unforgiving.

Everyone files out of the room, laughing under their breath at the look on their ex coworker’s face. When everyone is gone, she finally turns back to Harry, a laugh of disbelief leaving her lips as she takes in his blown pupils and heavy breathing, her eyes trailing down to his crotch to see an unmistakable bulge there.

“Really, Haz? I’ve just chewed out one of your employees and you’re turned on right now?” she laughs, the sound being cut off by a desperate kiss being pressed to her lips.

“You’re just so undeniably sexy when you take control. A stark contrast to when we’re at home and I eat you out until you’re crying an-,” he’s cut off by her hand being placed over his mouth.

“Shut up and get on your knees,” she demands, and he’s quick to comply, letting her take control of him as well.

—

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #ceo harry #ceo harry x reader #ceo!harry #ceo!harry x reader #ceo au #ceo!au #ceo harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles filth #fic rec #harry styles x reader

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mirai-e-jump · 1 year ago

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Hero Vision Vol.43 (2012/Winter) ft. Kamen Rider OOO Cast Members Watanabe Shu & Miura Ryosuke Memorial Trip (translations below)

Publication: March 7, 2012

-Silent Relationship-

Miura: In the year and a half since I first met Shu, the more I got to know him, the more I liked him.

Watanabe: In what ways?

Miura: Shu's been an actor for 3 years, right? Just as anything can be mastered after 3 years, I think you're at the stage where you've established your "base."

Watanabe: During that time, I was able to work on "Kamen Rider OOO," something I had always dreamed of doing, and, I was also able to meet Ryon-kun

Miura: Shu was grateful for everything and didn't take anything for granted, so he was able to establish a proper base. It's become his strength, and now he can go anywhere and do anything. If we want to learn from our mistakes, we make them, if we want to succeed, we make it happen. He's only 20 years old, so he's got alot of potential. I've been an actor for 10 years, and I'm at the point where I'm thinking, "What should I be doing from now on?" There are many people who say that if you can't do something, you're not allowed to do it. At the 10 year turning point, I was able to be apart of OOO, a work that I could really devote myself to. I realized that because I had the opportunity to meet Shu, who had so much potential, I had the chance to reflect on myself.

Watanabe: I've noticed alot of things from Ryon-kun too. Ryon-kun must've been thinking alot about how to make Ankh a "beloved monster," and how to express "Ryosuke Miura" himself in his photobooks. Never wasting any energy or time. The clothes, makeup, facial expressions, and movements all convey the desire to create a theme or concept, and then accomplishing it. That's why I used to get so angry during the filming of OOO. Especially when the makeup artist didn't arrive at the right time or there was a delay on set.

Miura: There were many times when I'd "freeze" the scene with a single word I said…..But, that was because I thought, "This isn't the way work should be done," or "This isn't the way the workplace should be."

Watanabe: Yeah, I want to learn from Ryon-kun's professionalism. That's how I was taught to be aware in the field, with a straight forward attitude to straighten things out. Ryon-kun has his own principles, and he wants to make sure that they're properly carried out, right?

Miura: I don't like being taken advantage of like I used to. I don't want people to think, "This is good enough for a young actor." Shu and I would never suck up to someone in a higher position. That's not what we're about, we want to make ourselves recognized by growing on the set. That's why I didn't have any unnecessary conversations with Shu or anyone else before a real take. Being an actor is job where you have to keep fighting with yourself, and there are many times where you'll feel lonely. There are some sites where the cast members act casual in order to make up for it, but I don't like that.

Watanabe: When Ryon-kun was on standby, there was a sense of tension that spread through the set. I could hear him quietly saying, "No more playing around." It was then that I realized, "This isn't the place to be screwing around," and I think the rest of the cast and staff felt the same way.

Miura: Everyone in OOO was able to perform with a high level of professionalism. If someone as talkative as Shu was on the scene without thinking, I feel like he would've caused too much trouble.

Watanabe: The reason that didn't happen was because of Ryon-kun. He led us through his actions. I did many things to Ryon-kun though. Things like the "Cola Incident."

Miura: You're going to bring this up again?! (laughs)

Watanabe: While on location for filming of the second half, Ryon-kun said he, "Wanted to drink some cola", so I told him, "I'll buy some for you," but I couldn't find a vending machine. While on the location bus eating my boxed lunch and thinking, "I'll take care of it later," Ryon-kun came to me and said, "Why are you eating food instead of buying me a cola?" You were just messing around, but you were still angry, right?

Miura: I just wanted to eat together with you.

Watanabe: It didn't feel like that (laughs). It wasn't just the cola, you were frustrated by alot of other things, right? I tried to lighten the mood by saying, "Why don't you have lunch?," I was able to buy a cola on location after filming, so I left it on Ryon-kun's seat.

Miura: When Eitoku-san (Suit Actor who played Ankh) told me, "It's from Shu-kun," I remember being really happy. Doing things like that, Shu always fills the space in my heart.

-On an adventure together-

Miura: Since OOO is over, I think we should go on more adventures.

Watanabe: Adventures?

Miura: To use a styling analogy, Shu often says, "Ryon-kun, what are you going to wear today? What should I do?" But, it doesn't matter what I answer. I know that you're always looking for the answer that's inside of you. I know this because I usually have an answer in my mind, even though you ask for opinions from others.

Watanabe: That's right. I'm impatient and want to know the answer right away, so I'll ask, "What do you mean?," and sometimes I'll say, "That's what it means, right?," responding before the other person can answer.

Miura: When it comes to clothing, Shu would say, "This isn't my style, so I won't wear it." I used to think, "I can't do this," but wearing different clothes changes you, and sometimes you like them even better. I've come to believe that these things are like anything else.

Watanabe: It's easy to understand if you compare it with clothes. Ryon-kun's visual sense of adventure is incredible. Are you still exploring things? Or have you decided that this is your style?

Miura: I don't decide. It's not that I think, "I'm the one who wears leopard print," I just think, "I'm the coolest" or "I'm definitely cuter than other people." Coolness and cuteness differs depending on the person, but I want to do everything I can and can only do now, fully utilizing both my own ideals and the appeal of the Ryosuke Miura that others desire.

Watanabe: Hmmm~ (is impressed). When I saw Ryon-kun's paisley patterned setup with a blue background, I thought, "So cute!~" (From Miura-kun's blog, February 20, 2011). When I saw it, I thought, "People can do so many things!" But since it's Ryon-kun, it'll probably take some time before I can pull it off myself~.

Miura: Wanna do it? (laughs). You've got an adventurous spirit.

Watanabe: Ryon-kun is slim, so he looks good in both cool and cute styles.

Miura: I used to avoid leather jackets because they didn't fit my body type, but after I was allowed to wear a biker's jacket as part of Ankh's costume, I began to think, "They're cool." Then I started to wear them in my private life, and now I wear them alot. You should try wearing them too.

Watanabe: Isn't it boring to settle on an idea?

Miura: No matter what Shu wears or what he does, he's still Shu. But it's definitely fun to be particular. Now, let's try wearing skinny jeans in our private lives.

Watanabe: Can I really wear them~?

Miura:: It doesn't matter if the zipper doesn't close. Just think that skinny is the only thing in this world!

Watanabe: That's an interesting concept! (laughs).

-We want to be "special" to each other-

Watanabe: In contrast to his fashion, Ryon-kun keeps his own problems to himself.

Miura: I just don't tell Shu about them.

Watanabe: What?! I should be the first one you tell!

Miura: Shu doesn't listen to other people. When he speaks, he looks the other person in the eye and leans forward, but when the other person begins to speak, he lowers his tone and says, "Hmm, hmm…."

Watanabe: My goal this year will be to listen!

Miura: Shu wants to be the center of attention. It's cute how visibly flustered he gets when someone other than himself is being focused on (laughs).

Watanabe: I don't like it when Ryon-kun hangs out with someone else, talks to someone else without me, or talks about something I don't understand even though we're together. I think, "What? Is Ryon-kun that type of person?," it's similar to the jealousy of accusing someone of cheating.

Miura: !!! (he burst out laughing). It's fine when he interrupts the conversation or tries to compete with me by saying, "I'm better than you," but it's a problem when he stays quiet. Shu doesn't talk when he's angry. When I say something, I have to say it all…..

Watanabe: That anger may be because he thought of me, or it may be about something that isn't negotiable at work. While I was happy, I was also worried about Ryon-kun himself.

Miura: At times like that, he'd ask, "Ryon-kun, what's wrong?" Whenever he's in a bad mood, I always try to calm him down, and I'm lucky if I also don't get stuck in a bad mood.

Watanabe: I overdid it sometimes (laughs). However, many things happened during our time together. I had alot of happy times and alot of frustrating times. I don't want to talk about it because it might distort my position and my feelings about the show……but, I thought it was great that Ankh was loved by so many people.

Miura: I think so too. Every time I saw Shu acting brave as the main character, and seeing him being loved by the staff, I thought it was something I couldn't do. Humans are always begging for something they don't have. We have different positions and characters, so it's not like we want to change for the other person (bitter smile).

Watanabe: Thanks to that, I was able to become more attached to my role and love it even more. What may seem like a negative thing can end up improving each other. Because I'm like that, no matter how close Ryon-kun is to other actors in his private life, he always comes back to me in the end. I'm number one among Ryon-kun.

Miura: Where does that confidence come from?

Watanabe: It's my desire for it to be that way.

Miura: (laughs). It's true that Shu is special to me. I've been surrounded by older people since I was little. There are people who pampered me and people who took good care of me, but somehow I couldn't trust them enough, and I always thought, "I have to get my act together." Especially on set, there's no place to relax….

Watanabe: That's true….

Miura: But, Shu's special. Only Shu can be spoiled. Shu's the first one where I think I can do anything with this person. Whether it's a photo shoot or an event, when Shu says, "Ryon-kun, it's okay," I can trust him with everything. Shu changed me from my very core.

Watanabe: Ehhh? Am I spoiled?

Miura: Shu was given special treatment during the photo shoot, right? When we all went to a donut shop to celebrate the makeup artist's birthday, I only bought grape juice for Shu (laughs).

Watanabe: That's right! I was the only one! (is happy).

Miura: I remember things like that every now and then. "We were together every day when we co starred together, so now it's fine if we don't see each other for a few months," I don't know why I ever said that……

Watanabe: Did you realize how much I meant to you after you left? Perhaps you got stuck in the "Watanabe Spiral?"

Miura: What does that mean?! (laughs).

Watanabe: It's the same for me. When I entered the set of OOO, I realized how blessed I was to be there. I felt like everyone loved me so much. At such times, I want to meet Ryon-kun and to confirm that, "I'm not alone."

Miura: Ahahaha!! (he bursts out laughing).

Watanabe: Well, after all, it's lonely, and we have to say "bye bye" now that we've finished filming.

Miura: I thought it was fine up until now, but I want to continue working with Shu and the others…..But, Shu doesn't think I'm special. To Shu, everyone is special.

Watanabe: What are you talking about?! Ryon-kun is the only one who keeps in touch with me this much.

Miura: I don't contact you as much as you say.

Watanabe: Is this because of the "email incident?"

Miura: When we first met, I said, "I don't feel comfortable messaging men."

Watanabe: I don't even message my friends to say, "See you tomorrow." The only emails I send are things like reminding my parents to send me contact lenses, or business matters like saying "I understand" to my manager (laughs). And yet, even though I send them to Ryon-kun myself, I can't?

Miura: You attach heart marks too.

Watanabe: That's right. Because you're really special to me.

Miura: I see (is satisfied). I'm a person who wants "Love" to exist in everything, including people, things, and work. I expect the same from others, can be jealous, and am abit troublesome.

Watanabe: Really? What if I want love too?

Miura: Then we're the same (is satisfied again).

Watanabe: I also rely on Ryon-kun. If I'm at a loss for materials at an event, if I'm talking too much, or if I feel like I'm going to make things worse, I'll say, "Hey, Ryon-kun?" and wave at him. When Ryon-kun replies, "Yeah?" or "What is it~," I respond with, "Miura-san, can I ask you something?," and then we end it with a joke.

Miura: Ah, that interaction, it really saved you (laughs). I'm glad~.

-The complete opposite path-

Miura: I feel at ease knowing that I'll be able to meet Shu again in the future, whether it's for interviews or at someone's birthday party. But, I'd like to keep in touch with Shu more easily. Even if it's, "I'm hungry, let's get something to eat even though we only have an hour."

Watanabe: Let's do it, let's do it!

Miura: And yet, for some reason, Shu can't do that……

Watanabe: Me being underage was probably a big part of it, huh? I also found myself wanting to meet Ryon-kun. Well, I already told you today, I'll change our relationship.

Miura: Please, by all means.

Watanabe: But, I'm short of money, and lately I've been eating alot of foods with a combination of bean sprouts (laughs). I don't like it when Ryon-kun takes care of me.

Miura: It'd be fun to have a "tasty bean sprout eating contest" at Shu's house.

Watanabe: Sounds good! I'm the best when it comes to bean sprouts, right?

Miura: Save some for me (laughs). Even if you say, "I can't do it because I don't have enough money," I'll say, "Okay, let's do it next time," or "It's okay, let's go together." Shu is serious about things like this. He seems to live freely, but he always tightens up where he needs to. It was the same with OOO.

Watanabe: That's because, as much as I was happy to be able to appear in a production that I admired, I also felt anxious and pressured. When it came to my acting, my responsibilities as the lead role, and communicating with Ryon-kun and the others…..I had alot of worries. When I saw Ryon-kun worrying, I had an optimistic attitude and said, "That's not something to worry about, right?," and it was because I didn't want to show everyone that I myself was worried and depressed.

Miura: Ah…I see…..

Watanabe: For me, I wanted to be everyone's "sunshine" on set. I felt that it was required of me, and I really wanted to make my dreams come true in a better way by being that way. That's why I wanted to challenge myself to do things that were beyond my capacity.

Miura: You overdid things.

Watanabe: I feel so too. There were times when I held in what I wanted to say because I didn't want to get into a fight with Ryon-kun. I instinctively avoided him because I was afraid that if my relationship with Ryon-kun deteriorated, it would become even more difficult to stand firm.

Miura: Why can we talk like this now?

Watanabe: I guess it's because I started seeing things from a different perspective. Just because I talked to someone about my troubles doesn't mean that the tension on set goes down. I don't think I needed to hold myself back so much, and I probably should have talked to Ryon-kun about it. I had too many assumptions about how things should be.

Miura: But, everyone was at ease saying, "Shu-kun doesn't change every day," and they respected Shu for that. This work was possible only because Shu was able to suppress his "insecurity" and "impossibility" and stand firm. By letting me out, the both of us survived together.

Watanabe: I see……We were complete opposites, but we faced the same direction as well.

Miura: That's why my feelings for Shu are actually very simple. At first I was surprised and thought, "Such a person exists!," then I thought, "He's amazing," "He's wonderful," and "I love him." I'm so grateful for him.

Watanabe: It feel the same. For me, this year and a half was because of Ryon-kun.

Miura: Now that our environments are changing, I think it's okay to feel down and talk to others when things get tough. You may run into conflicts when you ask for someone's opinion, and they may not tell you how to solve them, but it is much better than worrying about them alone. I don't want to run into the same problems again, so I think about them until the very last moment, and if it still doesn't work, I vent about it to someone else.

Watanabe: I see…..that sounds fine. Ryon-kun will listen to me now, right?

Miura: Of course, go ahead.

Watanabe: Thank you. Hah~……Today was the first time I've heard or talked about many things. I didn't have as much time as I thought I did while we were performing together (bitter smile). I think there are still alot of things I haven't talked about with Ryon-kun.

Miura: Let's talk whenever you want. It's sad to see the show end, but it was a year and a half of many encounters. I'm very happy that the people who came to know us through these encounters are supporting both of us together. I hope everyone will continue to watch over and support us as husband and wife for many years to come.

Watanabe: (laughs). It's been over a year and a half since me and Ryon-kun became a pair….I believe that together we were able to bring dreams and smiles to many people. We want you to support us forever, and let's grow even more so that we can live up to that.

Miura: Right!

Japanese Alphabet with Shu and Ryosuke (+ other page details)

Go to Hakone (page 65)

A: "The moment I'm in love" (Ai o kanjiru toki)

Shu: It's constant……Like the other day, when Ryon-kun gave me the bracelet that he'd been wearing for such a long time. Why'd you do that?

Ryosuke: I've been wearing it for many years now, and I wanted someone I cherish to have something that I cared about. I wonder if Shu writes about me on his blog or talks about me at events.

Shu: I wrote about Ryon-kun in my first blog of the year!

E: "The important part" (Erai tokoro)

Shu: It's strange for me to say this, but he's extremely professional. However, when he messes up, he really messes up.

Ryosuke: The organizers do a better job (laughs).

Shu: I was the organizer of my 20th birthday party and the New Year's party during OOO (laughs). Because it was a party with Ryon-kun and the others, I took the initiative.

Ryosuke: Everyone gets together because it's Shu, and even if they can't make it, they'll definitely let him know.

I: "Want to hold an event?" (Ibento o yarunara)

Ryosuke: A comedy act. At the request of one of my fans at a live event, they said I should be the funny man and Shu should be the straight man (laughs).

Shu: I like singing with Ryon-kun, so it'd be a concert.

O: "What happens when you're mad?" (Okoruto dounaru)

Shu: Ryon-kun stops talking to me and drags me through the day. He's never honest, even if he's sorry during the middle of the day, he won't talk to me until the next day.

Ryosuke: Shu is more flustered than mad. He always wants to be the center of attention, so when I'm talking to someone else, he wants to get between us (laughs).

U: "The jealous part" (Urayamashii tokoro)

Shu: Your visuals and the way you present yourself to the media. The way that you know what's expected of you and can express it.

Ryosuke: That you're full of potential. _

Arrives in Hakone Yumoto (page 66)

(top right) "Although the Romancecar (express train) had some trouble and had to stop at Odawara, it arrived safely at Hakone Yumoto without incident! "We have to take a picture that we've arrived!," and Watanabe-kun and Miura-kun went together to stand in front of the signboard."

KU: "A frustrated heart" (Kuyashii kokoro)

Ryosuke: There are alot of things. He bought an iPhone before I did, he built the cool and stylish house he lives in now, and he's a really strong drinker (laughs).

Shu: His fashion sense. Even if it's a single bag, it's an expensive high brand item!

KE: "Your ideal marriage partner" (Kekkon aite ni osusume ha)

Ryosuke: Definitely Shu. I think he'd be a good dad. He'd take us to various places to have fun, find amazing things for us to do during Summer vacation, and make delicious food to eat.

Shu: Definitely Ryon-kun. He can cook and do housework like a wife. Just being together with him is healing.

KO: "Love" (Koi)

Shu: When it comes to love, I want an answer immediately, so all I want to know is, "I like you or I don't like you." I don't think I could play around.

Ryosuke: I can't do it either. And I'm pretty jealous, so I'm sure I'll weigh them down.

Shu: There are some people who feel more loved the more they're bound!

Ryosuke: I guess so…..I wonder if it has to do with compatibility….

KA: "The cute parts" (Kawaii tokoro)

Ryosuke: His smile and dimples!

Shu: He's surprisingly innocent. I'm the same way, but when he's moved by something, he becomes all, "Uwa~ah!! (with sparkling eyes)"

KI: "Areas of concern" (Ki ni naru tokoro)

Shu: Sometimes, at our events, we'd speak using a fake Kansai dialect (laughs). Saying things like, "Why's that?" and "Is that so?"

Ryosuke: Even though neither of us are from the Kansai region (laughs).

Shu: It did make me feel closer to the guests though. _

Hatsuhana (page 67)

(top center) "When walking in front of Hakone Yumoto Station,"

Shu: Is that the soba shop? Right over there?

Ryosuke: It says "Inn" (laughs).

"Within a 5 minute walk, Watanabe-kun discovers multiple phantom soba shops."

SA: "The surprising thing" (Sapuraizu na koto)

Shu: I'll say it here. I got a Bluray recorder from Ryon-kun as a present for my 20th birthday!

Ryosuke: It's too late to say it! People think I didn't give it to you (laughs).

Shu: I missed the opportunity. So here it is now.

Ryosuke: In a good way, my impression of Shu hasn't changed since I met him. Also, I was really surprised at how well he eats (laughs).

SHI: "Horror story" (Shippaidan)

Shu: I don't mean to offend, but I often end up hurting people with my words…..

Ryosuke: If it were me who had done it, I wouldn't think, "That's terrible"….(laughs).

SU: "My favorite part" (Sukina tokoro)

Shu: There are alot of things, but if I had to pick one, I'd be that he's devoted to me.

Ryosuke: The part where he's always pulling me along, whether it's out of excitement or just to talk.

SE: "World view" (Sekaikan)

Shu: Recently, when we're together, we sometimes spend quiet time together.

Ryosuke: During the stage greeting for the film, "Kamen Rider x Kamen Rider Fourze & OOO: Movie War Mega Max," when I saw Shu sitting at the very back of the location bus, silently admiring the scenery outside the window, I thought to myself, "He's become more sexy since turning 20" (laughs).

Shu: I was probably just trying to appear cool (laughs).

SO: "When you need me by your side" (Soba ni ite hoshii toki)

Ryosuke: Now that Kamen Rider OOO is over, I hate that I'm not next to you.

Shu: I currently feel the same way. I've never been loved so much on a set, so I want to meet up with him once in awhile and spoil him, and I want to confirm that, "Ah, I have friends, and I can do my best going towards tomorrow."

TO: "Times where I make him feel special" (Tokubetsuda to omou toki)

Ryosuke: Always. In front of the other OOO members, I've always shown that, "Shu is the best."

Shu: I rarely send emails outside of business, but I only send emails with hearts attached to Ryon-kun.

TE: "The appropriate part" (Tekitona tokoro)

Shu: When I'm messing around. Sometimes I respond with, "I'm too busy to bother you" (laughs).

Ryosuke: Shu basically relaxes when he doesn't have to do something for himself or others (laughs).

TSU: "The cold (hearted) part" (Tsumetai tokoro)

Ryosuke: It wasn't towards me, but Shu's face was cold during a pre event meeting with the MC. I immediately asked, "What's this all about?," as it was a face you don't want to show to the visitors.

Shu: When I talked to Ryon-kun after the "Cola Incident", usually he'd laugh and say, "I see~," but he instead responded with, "No, I don't understand" in a cold way……It was scary.

CHI: "The part that's different" (Chigau tokoro)

Shu: Our personalities are the exact opposite. We're like the S and N on a magnet, so we fit together perfectly and can't be separated.

Ryosuke: Yeah, I'm interested because we're different, and I like seeing how things play out.

Shu: We look completely different too! A Japanese face and a Western face!

TA: "Fun memories" (Tanoshi katta omoide)

Ryosuke: During filming for OOO, we had our first date in Ueno! (May 22, 2011)

Shu: After filming, we went to Fuji Q Highland (interview done by Tokyo News Mook: Good Come, November 16 issue). But, you know, I always enjoyed those moments when we had off time, whether it was having a meal during a break or just sitting on the location bus. _

In the Corridor (page 68-69)

NA: "What would you name it?" (Namae wo tsukerunara?)

Shu: E&A, since it's Eiji & Ankh….."EA!" (pronounced ia = ear)

Ryosuke: Hey, are you sure that's okay? (giving a dirty look).

Shu: Eh~? (unhappy). Then, what about Miura-san?

Ryosuke: I want to be on "Team (blank)"

Shu: Since it's the year of the Dragon, how about "Ryuseikai?"

Ryosuke: Sounds good! Our goal is also to get more male fans, so it doesn't matter how grand it is!

NU: "The part I want to leave out" (Nukitai tokoro)

Shu: Dance! And also, professionalism!

Ryosuke: I have none. In the first place, I can't beat Shu, so I have no desire to lose to Shu, or to destroy Shu.

NI: "Similar parts" (Ni teru tokoro)

Ryosuke: That we value our family. Shu loves his family too, doesn't he?

Shu: Yeah, I love them. The similarity with Ryon-kun is……(thinking hard)……I can't think of any! I always see him as my complete opposite.

NE: "Sleeping face" (Negao)

Shu: Ryon-kun's sleeping face is beautiful.

Ryosuke: Shu's is cute. He's like a baby. He must feel comfortable, because he drools down to his collarbone (laughs).

Shu: That's how "Lake Watanabe" will be created.

Ryosuke: That's so gross! (he bursts out laughing).

NO: "Drinking" (Nomi)

Ryosuke: I want to drink at a kushikatsu (skewer) restaurant or some place with a counter.

Shu: I'd rather go to a dirty restaurant than a fancy one and share my true feelings with him. _

Hakone Glass Forest Art Museum (page 70)

HA: "Embarrassing things" (Hazukashii koto)

Ryosuke: I didn't want anyone to see the moments where I went into water, stood on high places, or anything I don't like, but I showed them all to Shu during the filming of OOO. I have nothing left to hide from Shu.

Shu: I'm lazy at home. I watch TV with just a towel wrapped around me after a bath, and my laundry is sometimes left in the washing machine, where it becomes stiff and crumpled…..

HI: "Secrets" (Himitsu)

Ryosuke: There's none. We're generally talkative, and when Shu acts stranger than usual, I get curious and ask what's up. Shu will often ask me, "Ryon-kun, did anything happen today?," so there are no secrets (laughs).

Shu: I have none either!

FU: "Dissatisfaction" (Fuman)

Ryosuke: When I'm having trouble with something I don't want to talk about, he asks me in front of everyone, "Ryon-kun, did something happen yesterday?" I'd like it to be just between the two of us.

Shu: Sometimes he says things that are impossible. Like, "Come to my concert in Osaka."

Ryosuke: Why's that? I'm requesting for Shu to show off his cute performance.

Shu: But, I also have plans…..

Ryosuke: I'll be in a bad mood if you don't come, okay?

Shu: Yeah, I'm not dissatisfied. This isn't dissatisfaction (laughs).

HE: "Disguise" (Hensou)

Ryosuke: I want to act cool like you always do.

Shu: Me too. I'm going to be cool like you always are.

Ryosuke: Can I pull it off?

Shu: Ryon-kun's coolness might be too difficult for me right now (laughs).

HO: "A serious moment" (Honki no shunkan)

Shu: The look in your eyes the moment you start your performance. It's completely different from usual.

Ryosuke: As expected, it's times during the performance.

(middle right) Fusing Experience "While wearing matching friendship bracelets, Miura-kun gave Watanabe-kun the handmade bracelet as a gift, and the two have a close relationship when it comes to accessories. They both made accessories by melting glass and presented them to each other."

Shu: Since it's the year of the Dragon, I think I'll choose something with a dragon motif for Ryon-kun~.

Ryosuke: Eh~? (unhappy).

Shu: No good? Well then, let's do something cute then.

Ryosuke: Hmmm, as I thought, Shu should get a "mask."

"And with that, they start with a complete showdown!"

(middle left) "They also created a gift for the readers."

Ryosuke: Don't move everything I just put down~ (laughs).

Shu: Ah, sorry.

"Watanabe-kun said, shifting the glass beads while curling, so we couldn't see the finished product."

Shu: The one I placed (a glass bead in the bottom center) doesn't make too much of an impression, huh? (laughs). Ryon-kun, please do something about it~

"In the end, Miura-kun arranged and completed it by hand."

(bottom left) Their collaborative "Heart Spoon" will be given away to 1 person!

(bottom middle) From Ryosuke to Shu: A mask necklace

From Shu to Ryosuke: A sparkling key holder _

Onsen (page 71)

MU: "Defenseless moments" (Mubobi na shunkan)

Ryosuke: The times when Shu is sleeping, right? (laughs). I personally think I'm flawless.

Shu: That's a lie~. He already said he's revealed alot of things to me.

Ryosuke: Hmmm, the truth is, the more I like someone, the more conscious I am about how I'm perceived. I just don't do it well with Shu (laughs).

Shu: Ah, I see!

MA: "Things I'm serious about" (Majimeda to omou tokoro)

Shu & Ryosuke: Things relatings to work.

MI: Miura Ryosuke

Shu: The kanji that make up bewitching, "Mysterious" and "Gorgeous," and even "Beautiful" suits him. His appearance, expressions, and everything about him is erotic and cool. Anyway, he's very sexy.

Ryosuke: Are you serious? That makes me happy! I think the eternal theme for me is to have "Love" in everything.

ME: "Meal" (Meshi)

Ryosuke: I'd like to pound real mochi using a mortar and pestle. I'll do the pounding and Shu will do the kneading. And, I want to try different flavors, like chocolate.

Shu: I want to have dinner at a fancy French restaurant in Ginza that costs 30,000 yen per person. I wonder what'll happen to us there.

Ryosuke: We'd probably panic? (laughs)

MO: "The popular parts" (Moteru tokoro)

Ryosuke: You have vitality, and the confidence to do so for whatever reason (laughs).

Shu: I think it's because I want to lead. I'm recommend by younger people (?). But, I'm not looked up to by people my age or those older than me……Ryon-kun is devoted. I can feel that he thinks of me as the center of his life.

Ryosuke: I still think that's heavy to say.

Shu: That's because there are some people in this world that want to be bound. _

Kiritani Hakoneso (page 72-73)

RU: "The parts of his looks that I like" (Rukkusu de sukina yo koro)

Shu: His small, well defined face and slim legs (he slaps Miura-kun's thighs). And, he has a flexible body.

Ryosuke: Actually I'm pretty stiff (his fingers can't reach the floor when he bends forward). I'm like Shu, I've got a firm face.

Shu: We both want things the other has.

RI: Request (Rikuesuto)

Shu: I want Ryon-kun to hurry up and invite me to his house!

Ryosuke: I don't want to because it's a mess right now. I'm planning to move, so wait until I'm in my new home.

Shu: Of course!

Ryosuke: My request would be to go out to eat a meal casually, not just for birthdays or New Year's parties, but also on days when there's nothing going on.

RA: "The lucky things" (Rakki na koto)

Ryosuke: After I met Shu, we started eating alot more food, and we started talking alot. I'm a much more positive person than before.

Shu: I learned alot about the rules of how things should be in the field and how things should be in this industry.

YO: "Weakness" (Yowami)

Ryosuke: It's no good to ignore Shu.

Shu: Loneliness and indifference are the worst. Ryon-kun is lonely too, isn't he?

Ryosuke: It's because I'm a Rabbit, as I was born in the year of the Rabbit.

Shu: I see, you're a Rabbit-chan~ (Does he even understand?)

YU: "How did you come up with your unit name?" (Yunitto mei o tsukerunara)

Shu: Ryosuke's R and Shu's S are taken to make "R&S." By the way, the "&" is taken away from "Earth." Earth also has it's meaning!

Ryosuke: I think it's nice to be big (laughs).

YA: "Being kind to me" (Yasashiku sa reta koto)

Ryosuke: Shu often asks, "Ryon-kun, are you eating your food properly? Are you hungry?" and "Ryon-kun, if there's any leftover, please give it to me."

Shu: In the end, it's my desires (laughs). When I call someone and they don't notice, Ryon-kun joins me and we call together.

Ryosuke: That?! (laughs)

Shu: It's too much that no one moves!

RE: "Means of contact" (Renraku shudan)

Shu: It's mainly emails. We send each other about the same amount. Ryon-kun often sends me messages when he's drunk, saying, "Shu-chan" or "To my beloved Shu."

Ryosuke: When I'm drunk and lonely, I want to meet Shu. It varies whether we respond to each other or not (laughs).

RO: "Lost (what they don't want to lose)" (Rosuto)

Shu: Our friendly relationship. The rest is my personality. As people often say, "I hope you don't change," and if there is a part of me that can support Ryon-kun now, I want to continue to do so.

Ryosuke: My job. I met Shu through work, and if it wasn't for this job, we might have never met.

WA: Watanabe Shu

Ryosuke: He's free…..the way I see it, he's not pretending about it.

Shu: I'm bright and positive. But, I may not be able to show my true self easily.

(bottom right) Since the Hero Vision release date was close to Miura-kun's 25th birthday (February 16th), Watanabe-kun gave him a surprise after dinner. Watanabe-kun was enthusiastically singing "Happy Birthday dear Ryon-kun~" (with a hint of euphoria), and Miura-kun was surprised and said, "Eh? Eh? You're kidding, right?" Miura-kun, with some tears in his eyes, said "Thank you," and Watanabe-kun gave him the biggest smile in return. _

Return to Tokyo (page 74)

(W)O: "The end" (Owari)

Shu: I heard that Hakone got the most snow this winter today. The snow must've been waiting for us to come. Maybe the snow said, "Ryon-kun, Shu-kun, why don't you come quickly? The scenery will be beautiful when it's all piled up."

Ryosuke: What's wrong with you? Saying such cute things (laughs).

Shu: It was alot of fun. The hot springs and the food were great, but I really enjoyed being with Ryon-kun! What about you Ryon-kun?

Ryosuke: It was fun. Since I was with Shu, I ate alot more food than usual (laughs). _

See You! (page 75)

N: "From now on" (Kore kara)

Shu: Next time, we'll climb Mt. Fuji, and at the top we'll shout, "Waaah~!"

Ryosuke: I want to climb it. But, it's said that you're risking your life.

Shu: Is that so? Well then, let's go fishing instead.

Ryosuke: Let's go to a river. I want to eat river fish.

Shu: Then let's go camping! Decide on sweets up to 300 yen.

Ryosuke: Then it's a field trip (laughs). I don't mind if we go to Korea and enjoy fancy gourmet food, or if I pick up some bamboo and go to Shu's house to have Nagashi Somen.

Shu: That's a wide range. Also, are you planning on leaving my house drenched? (laughs)

Ryosuke: Anywhere is fine if I'm with Shu.

Shu: Eh? (is happy)

Ryosuke: It'd be interesting to have an interview where we're just eating (laughs).

Shu: Then you can visit anytime! (laughs)

(*no Japanese word starts with the singular "N" character)

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lesinquietes · 1 year ago

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I once wrote this longfic about Yandere!Professor!Levi who works out of a university and agrees to take you on as his teaching assistant in the first year of your grad degree…… and guys, the brainrot is back 🥺

Tw; coercion, degradation, dominant levi, dubcon (just a sprinkle), oral sex (levi receiving), slut-shaming, spanking

He remembers how much completing a master’s degree sucks. Rewarding? A little. But mostly just a waste of time keeping to the institution’s expectations of excellence. Originally, he only applied to see if he would get one of the scholarships they offered to the poor folk. He didn’t anticipate gaining entry to the program.

Fast forward to eight years later, and he’s cozy in his teaching position. The headmaster is his best friend, Erwin Smith. Life is good. He doesn’t have to teach much with the team of graduate assistants he has each semester. He lets them conduct seminars on course material to get “teaching experience”. As if that’ll help them find a job afterwards.

Although everything seems to have fallen into place for him, there’s still something missing. A void. A yearning. For what, he doesn’t know; that is, until you came along. You make him realize that life isn’t meant to be easy.

For every class he teaches, he receives at least one teaching assistant. Oftentimes, the flock he gets are new graduate students who don’t know their hand from their foot. They’re so nervous in their new role, that they cause more havoc than they’re worth. As such, he’s learned to be a hard ass. It turns out tough love works better than coddling.

But you.

You don’t respond well to either.

And it pisses him off how you’re not predictable. Growing up in the slums made his ability to read situations damn near immaculately. To some degree, he should be able to predict most common behaviours. He’s utterly confused when you don’t respond to reward or punishment. What kind of person are you? The fascination takes him faster than the alcohol did after Farlan and Isabel died in that car accident. Unlike the liquor, he lets his attraction for you bloom.

He treats you like an academic study. He writes down his hypotheses and then conducts an experiment to record data. He documents every method he tries, hoping to make a breakthrough, all while skirting under your radar; the subject can’t know her role in his field research.

Initially, he’s hard on you. He discovered a marking error on one of his students’ returned papers. Usually he doesn’t bother to check his teaching assistant’s work. With you, he’s been putting in overtime.

“The fuck is this?” He growled, tossing the paper onto your desk.

“What?”

You took the sheet onto your hands and scanned the lines with careful orbs. When you reached the bottom, you locked eyes with him. He doesn’t utter a word. You’re bright enough to understand the implicit message.

“I made a mistake,” you state. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

You always act so diplomatic with him. He wishes you would let your guard down. You speak to your colleagues with less of an edge to your tone.

“I thought a master’s student would be able to handle bachelor’s level shit.” He antagonized you. “If you fuck up again I’ll scrap your contract for next semester.”

It’s a bluff. He won’t do that. He doesn’t want anyone else getting you as a teaching assistant, least of all that creep Miche. You’re too alluringly odd. Levi wants to lay claim to you.

“It won’t happen again,” you called after him. “Sorry.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head. His vivid memory of your nonchalance gave him a bright idea. You don’t mean your apologies because you don’t care. Truly.

Of course you haven’t been responsive to his rearing techniques; you aren’t interested in what he’s offering. He hasn’t been using the correct rewards and punishments. You’re in this teaching assistant position against your will; you needed to take it on so you could afford to pay your tuition. He bets you’re dying for stimulation.

With this in mind, he sends you an email, requesting your presence in his office tomorrow morning. If you want something to captivate your picky mind, he’s going to give it to you.

He can’t believe his eyes when you actually obey his request to bend over his desk. Your skirt hikes up, revealing your cute panties. They’re white. The way they don’t fit around the cheeks of your ass makes his cock twitch in his pants. The notion that you planned this crosses his mind. He dismisses it in favour of indulging.

Levi smacks his ruler against your ass, revelling in how your holes twitch each time he strikes. You respond well to this punishment. You moan and gasp when he goes harder, panting breathily like a desperate whore. He’s never seen so much life in your face. He only stops hitting your plump globes when the skin feels tender and worn beneath his palm; even then, he gives them one more clap before standing up to tug down his trousers.

You suck his cock next. Who knew you were such a champ at giving head? He helps you along with a firm hand glued to the back of your skull. You choke and slobber when his rip slams into the back of your throat. He doesn’t let up. Tears are streaming down your face until he decides it’s time you worship his balls. He shoves your nose and mouth into his sack, shuddering when he feels your tongue lavish each sphere with your love. It’s almost enough to make him cum.

He can’t take much more of your teasing. He forces himself down your throat a second time and shoots his load. You cough and sputter, but he doesn’t let you off. You’ll only have the privilege of air when you swallow. Once you do, he’s happy to permit you to breathe.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and tilts your head up. His steely orbs are filled with wanton lust. Your makeup is smeared and your eyes are glossy. You’re in a daze. This is what you wanted all along; to be used by your professor.

Well, if that’s what it’ll take for you to maintain an interest in grading for his class, he’s happy to do it; the next time you need some proctoring, he’ll be sure to claim that wet pussy of yours.

#minors dni #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi ackerman #yandere aot #professor levi #levi x reader #levi smut #aot smut #afab reader

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kelliealtogether · 1 day ago

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The new barista at Fox Way Cafe was hot as shit.

Or Ronan Lynch hoped he was new. That was the only reasonable excuse why the barista sucked at barista-ing and seemed to provide the fucking worst customer service known to man. The way the guy’s thin smile faltered when he asked someone how he could help them said he’d rather throw himself into an active volcano — or possibly a tiny metal pitcher of freshly steamed milk, given the setting — than take another order for a nonfat pumpkin spice peppermint patty latte with almond milk or whatever, but damn, Ronan would stand in line all day if it meant watching the new guy epically fail at providing a good customer experience.

Ronan Lynch doesn't mean to become a regular at Fox Way Cafe, but when he sees the cafe's newest employee for the first time, he decides to keep going back again, and again, and again.

At least until the new barista learns how to spell his name...

Just Coffee is a 4.3k G-rated coffee shop meet-cute with all the trappings of a meet-ugly. Adam is horrible at customer service and Ronan can't get enough of it. Read it all below the cut or here on ao3.

The new barista at Fox Way Cafe was hot as shit.

Ronan didn’t personally need a good customer experience though. He didn’t need any kind of experience at all. He just needed the plainest cup of black coffee Fox Way had ever served because he happened to be an idiot who forgot to add cheap, plain coffee to his last Instacart order. There had been coffee back at his brother Declan’s townhouse — expensive whole bean crap that tasted like battery acid had a baby with nail polish remover — but Ronan appreciated his fully-functioning stomach too much to drink it. That left him suffering the consequences of his mistake, waiting in line behind a bunch of blonde, Northern Virginia housewives decked out in their Lululemon and Patagonia.

At least he got nice scenery as he suffered. Not the cafe itself and the hand lettered chalkboard menu posted behind the counter or the mismatched overstuffed armchairs gathered around whitewashed antique tables, but dusty hair that fell unevenly across a forehead. Mirthless blue eyes that narrowed at the corners with every overly complex coffee order. Long, lean, knobby-knuckled hands that scrawled names on the sides of white paper cups in permanent marker.

It was a sight Ronan could look at all day. And nothing stopped him from setting up residence at one of the cafe’s tables to watch the hopefully new guy suck at his job. The rest of the morning — and afternoon, and evening — stretched in front of Ronan, impossibly empty. Not much filled the schedule of a high school dropout who had ideas about being a farmer until he abandoned that plan after realizing it meant he’d be stuck alone in western Virginia until retirement or the apocalypse, whichever came first. Now, with the luxury of money and time, he’d ditched his would-be farm for Alexandria and was reassessing his life goals while running out the clock on his brother’s hospitality and patience.

But until Declan sent him packing?

Ronan could keep forgetting to add coffee to his grocery order so he could become a regular at Fox Way Cafe, and he’d start that journey with a single cup of black coffee.

“Can I help you?” the barista — he had to be new because he didn’t even have a name tag pinned to the apron he wore over a red t-shirt — asked, pulling Ronan out his head, where he’d started daydreaming about getting to know the hot as shit barista through a series of snarky conversations while cash and cups changed hands.

At the front of the line and now up close and personal with the new guy, proximity rendered Ronan speechless for a long, awkward second before he said, “Just coffee.” After another awkward pause, Ronan — because while he was an asshole, he wasn’t about to be a dick to a customer service person — added, “Please.”

“Just coffee,” the barista replied, like he couldn’t believe someone would enter a cafe and only order a plain cup of coffee. And — fair. The orders Ronan overhead while waiting had all sounded like fantastic sugar-filled monstrosities that left plain coffee cowering in their shadows.

“Yeah. Just coffee, man,” Ronan said. “Not trying to make your life difficult.”

The guy should have appreciated the simple order, but if a sigh could be an expression, that was precisely how the barista looked at Ronan. And, honestly, unimpressed wasn’t a bad look on him. Yeah, it pressed his thin lips thinner and drew his almost invisible eyebrows together so the skin between them pinched, but it made him look even more done with his mundane counter position and Ronan appreciated the desire to opt out of the farce of capitalism.

“Name?” barista boy asked. Ronan didn’t know how he translated the unimpressed look on his face into the single-worded question, but he managed.

“Uh. Ronan,” Ronan replied. Because, apparently, this guy rendered him not just speechless, but stupid.

Some kind of magic put a cup in one of the barista’s hands and a marker in the other, and he scrawled on the side of the cup before capping the marker and using it to tap the register’s touch screen. “Three seventy,” he told Ronan apathetically. The he turned around to fill the cup from a giant stainless steel pot behind the register.

Ignoring the fact a plain cup of coffee cost almost four bucks, and also ignoring the fact this guy had a minimalist approach to talking, Ronan pulled out his wallet and thumbed out a credit card. As he tapped it to the card reader attached to the register, he watched the barista’s pleasantly muscled bicep and how it moved beneath his t-shirt as he pumped the lever on the pot’s black lid. Bewitched, Ronan’s eyes were still focused on where the guy’s upper arm had been when he turned back toward Ronan, which left Ronan staring at the hollow at the base of a very nice throat when the barista held out his full cup of coffee. And there was one of those gorgeous hands again, this time curled around the cup so fingertips bookended Ronan’s name written on white cardboard.

Ronan’s name, spelled Ronin.

“It’s with an a,” he said. Dumbly. Obstinately.

The barista held the cup in his hand so stilly that the coffee inside it went flat and dark and mirror-like as he asked, “Pardon?”

It sounded way cuter than Ronan wanted to admit. A little southern and lilting but sanded down, close to the way people had talked out in western Virginia before Ronan temporarily uprooted himself to Alexandria. It was also a lot more polite than a what or a huh, responses he'd heard a million times before. How Ronan himself would have responded in the same kind of situation.

“My name,” he replied. “It’s with an a.”

The guy blinked once, slowly, like Ronan was an idiot. And — fair. He was standing there being pedantic about how a barista had spelled his name on a cup that hadn't required Ronan’s name at all. With the coffee right behind the register, the cup didn't need to be put in the line waiting for the other barista — a short chick whose hair clips probably violated a dozen health codes — to fill it with a fancy ass drink. So it made absolute sense for the guy to set Ronan’s cup on the granite countertop far away from the register — a clear sign for Ronan to move out of line — before he said dryly, “Thank you for the feedback.”

“No problem,” Ronan told him. Dumbly. Sarcastically. But he got the hint. He picked up his cup and raised it in a toast to the hot barista as he added, “Have a good one.”

And he legitimately wanted the guy to have a good day. No one that hot should be subjected to a bad day, especially when they were stuck serving assholes like Ronan, even if they were kind of a dick themselves. Thank you for the feedback though? If someone in customer service cared about keeping their job, they didn’t say shit like that. And maybe the hot barista didn’t care about keeping his job. On looks alone, Ronan had a pretty high opinion of him. Add his absolute disdain for his current career? That skyrocketed Ronan’s opinion through the roof.

Ronan stopped at the milk, sugar, and compostable stirrer station to shove a lid on his cup before leaving the twee little cafe, but not before glancing back at the barista, who had moved on to serving the next person in line and looked no less disinterested in his work than when he’d taken Ronan’s order. Jesus shit, Ronan hadn’t seen someone look so joyless since he’d told Declan he was dropping out of high school. At least that had made Ronan happy. The barista’s misery please absolutely no one.

Yet the prospect of causing the guy more misery didn’t stop Ronan from returning to the cafe the next day. Sometimes he bent truths and avoided honesty, but he wasn’t a liar. He’d told himself he’d become a regular at Fox Way Cafe and he would. Later in the morning — a time most people would call midday, not morning — he sauntered into the coffee shop. During his drive from Declan’s townhouse, Ronan had mentally prepared for the possibility the barista from yesterday wouldn’t be working, but preparation had been unnecessary. Hot barista stood behind the counter looking as bored as ever as he took a woman’s order.

Ronan sidled into line behind her — the two pump sugar-free vanilla, two pump hazelnut, double-shot, extra hot oat milk latte she ordered made Ronan’s stomach hurt — and after she paid and the barista passed her cup off to the same midget working the espresso machine, the barista looked at Ronan, paused a beat, and then asked, “Just coffee?”

“Yeah,” Ronan replied, blinking his mild shock away. The guy had remembered his — albeit really fucking basic — order from the day before. “Just coffee.”

Again, the guy practiced some kind of magic and procured a cup and marker from thin air, and after he told Ronan his total, he turned to fill the cup from the pot behind him. Again, Ronan watched the barista’s arm while he fumbled through tapping his credit card for payment, and when the barista handed him his coffee, Ronan said, “That’s not where the a goes.”

Because the barista had scrawled Aronin on the cup.

“You said your name was uh Ronan,” the barista replied. “With an a.”

Probably, Ronan should have been flattered that a hot guy had remembered his name when dozens, if not hundreds, of customers streamed into the cafe every morning. And he would have been, if the barista hadn’t completely bastardized Ronan’s name. Okay, sure, Ronan hadn’t said the a went where the guy had put an i because it was common damn sense, but who was named Aronin? The barista had to be fucking with him. Or maybe he was too functionally illiterate to be working the register at a coffee shop.

God, Ronan hoped not.

For a long moment, he stared at the barista, then — because no one had gotten in line behind him — he set the coffee down on the counter without spilling any. “It’s Ronan,” he said flatly. None of this mattered. The barista didn’t care whether he spelled anyone’s name right or not, but Ronan would be damned if he didn’t at least try to correct it. His name wasn’t Ronin or — what the fuck — Aronin. It was Ronan, a damn good name, and he wasn’t going to let someone get it wrong if he could help it. “Like — row, like a boat.” He mimicked holding an oar and stroked his hands through the air like he was sitting in a canoe and paddling down a river, not standing in Fox Way Cafe. “And nan. Like what you’d call your grandma or whatever.” He picked his coffee back up before he finished, “Ronan.”

The barista simply looked back at him for a long moment, his fair eyebrows and his lips both flat lines. Jesus, he was good looking, even through thinly veiled annoyance. Finally, just like he had the day before, the barista said dryly, “Thank you for the feedback and demonstration.”

Barely — barely — Ronan stopped himself from throwing his hands in the air and splattering the whole cafe with coffee. This guy had to be fucking with him, and if he was, Ronan gave him credit. He hadn’t so much as smiled. At all. Not once. No one could be that stoic for so long in such a ridiculous situation unless they were doing it on purpose. Which — made the guy about a hundred times more attractive to Ronan.

“You’re welcome,” he drawled, narrowing his eyes at the barista. Then, just like he had the day before, he said, “Have a good one.”

If Ronan’s mom had been alive, she would have called the guy difficult or a pill, and that would have only been under duress. Despite her raising him, Ronan had never been that nice. That benevolent. So he mentally called the guy an asshole as he walked out of Fox Way, and he smirked to himself his entire walk to his parked BMW.

He smirked to himself his entire drive back to Declan’s townhouse.

The next day, Ronan should have expected similar shenanigans. Or not shenanigans. Misunderstandings. Because maybe this barista was the type to dick around with every one of his customers, but Ronan didn’t think so. Except as soon as he stepped into the cafe — oddly empty for almost lunchtime — the hot barista grabbed a cup, scrawled something on its side in marker, and turned toward the coffee pot behind him.

“What if I wanted something else?” Ronan asked as he stopped in front of the register.

“Once is an anomaly,” the barista replied, putting the full cup down on the counter, strategically turned so Ronan couldn’t see what he’d written on it. “Twice is a pattern.”

“Okay, Einstein.” Ronan rolled his eyes before reaching for the cup and slowly spinning it until he could read his name. “Oh, come on, man.”

Because, this time, the barista had written Row Nan.

Nonchalant, the barista said, “It’s how you told me it was spelled.”

“I was being phonetical. Not literal.”

Then, the flat line of the guy’s lips twitched — just barely — into something that had ideas of being a smirk before the guy pressed his lips thin again and said, “I’ll take Hooked On Phonics into consideration next time.”

And there would be a next time, because the barista’s snark had become more than mildly appealing to Ronan. He’d come back again and again and again, even if the guy never spelled his name right. Frankly, he was running out of options, or at least normal ones. Not that that seemed like it would stop him if he wanted to get creative.

Ronan welcomed creativity.

Without much fanfare, Ronan paid, muttered have a good one through his teeth, and stalked out of the coffee shop.

Fucking Row Nan.

Mary, mother of God, he couldn’t get enough of the barista. He was awful at his job. Completely unapologetic. Borderline rude.

Ronan hoped he worked at that goddamned cafe until the end of the world. Or at least until Ronan — maybe, probably — moved back home.

Neither had happened by the next morning, but the guy still remained behind the register when Ronan walked into Fox Way. A miracle really, considering the universe had rarely worked in his favor so continuously. But that morning, as soon as Ronan made it to the front of the line, he stopped the barista before he had the chance to grab a cup and wield his marker.

“No,” Ronan said, continuing so quickly he didn’t leave space for debate or contradiction. “Today, I’m gonna spell it out. Since phonetics doesn’t seem to work for you.”

The barista stared at Ronan for a moment, and after his lean chest and wiry shoulders rose and fell with a long inhale and a long exhale, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Spell it.”

For the first time since he’d probably learned how to spell it when he was a kid, Ronan spelled his name. He enunciated every single letter so plainly and clearly they couldn’t be misinterpreted. He tried to make it so foolproof that there was no way the barista could possibly get it wrong, and God save him if he couldn’t get it right with Ronan spelling it letter by letter.

In hindsight, Ronan should have been watching the barista’s pretty hands, not the concentration on his face — the knit of his eyebrows, the slight tuck to one corner of his lips. Because after he’d filled Ronan’s cup with coffee and set it on the counter, Ronan got a look at this attempt at his name and said, “That is the worst way anyone has ever spelled my name.”

In a single column down the side of the cup, the first letter of each line one atop another, the barista had written:

Ahr.

Oh.

En.

Ay.

En.

“It’s phonetic,” the barista replied, and as Ronan slowly shook his head, the barista finally fucking smiled at him, so elastic and amiable Ronan almost swayed into the person waiting in line behind him. “Can I get you anything else?”

Utterly speechless, Ronan shook his head again — quicker this time — before he floundered through tapping his credit card for payment and then muttering an unintelligible string of words that may have contained thanks, have a good one, I’m in love with you, or some amalgamation of the three before he wandered out of the cafe without putting a lid on his cup. He didn’t need a lid anyway. As soon as he made it to his car, he dumped the coffee in the gutter and used his black t-shirt to dry the inside of the cup because he was never throwing it away. He’d keep it as a memento of the day the still-nameless barista smiled at him for the first time. Hopefully genuinely. Ronan didn’t even care that the move left him smelling freshly brewed for the rest of the day either. That had the opportunity to irritate Declan or give him another ulcer, and Ronan couldn’t pass those chances up.

He still smelled freshly brewed the following morning because he rolled out of bed and grabbed a shirt from the towering pile of laundry on the chair in the corner of Declan’s guest room, not realizing it was the same shirt he’d worn the day before. Once Ronan had realized it, he’d been too lazy to change, and seeing as he’d blend right in with the aromas of the only place he planned on going, it didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like the hot barista could tell the difference between one plain black t-shirt and another. Ronan barely could, which was how he’d found himself smelling like a coffee shop again in the first place.

And that didn’t matter either anyway, because the hot barista wasn’t behind the counter when Ronan walked into Fox Way Cafe. In his usual place stood the short chick who’d been working the espresso machine — twice her size, so Ronan didn’t know how she’d operated it — the past few mornings, and a ghost-like guy worked the machine in her place. Ronan could have turned around and walked right back out the door — he didn’t need coffee the way all the caffeine addicts that kept the cafe in business did — but he stopped himself from retreating to his car when the chick barista called out, “Welcome to Fox Way.”

Caught before he could leave, Ronan gritted his teeth and approached the register. Stunted, he said, “Hi.”

“What can I get you?” this barista — BLUE according to the all caps name printed on the shiny label of the name tag pinned to her apron, and what the hell kind of name was Blue? — asked him when he stopped in front of her.

The completely different approach to serving customers nearly gave Ronan whiplash.

“Just coffee,” he told her.

She grabbed a cup from the stack beside the register and turned to fill it from the pot behind her, glancing at Ronan over her shoulder. “Room for cream and sugar?”

He shook his head as he watched her until he recognized a verbal response was probably warranted. Snapping himself out of his mystification from the one-eighty between how this barista and the hot barista operated, Ronan said, “No. No thanks.”

Pivoting back to Ronan, a little coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup as Blue set it down on the counter. “Lids are behind you,” she told him. “Can I get you anything else?”

And then it wasn’t only the superior customer service throwing Ronan for a loop, but also something Blue had neglected when she’d been taking his order. Something Ronan hadn’t been subjected to in days, though it had colored every single one of his visits to the cafe.

In what probably sounded like it came out of left field, he said, “You didn’t ask for my name.”

Blue blinked, so at least Ronan wasn’t the only one being thrown for a loop during this transaction. “Excuse me?”

“When you took my order,” he explained. “You didn’t ask for my name.”

Slowly, like Ronan had regressed to kindergarten and needed an everyday occurrence spelled out to him very simply, Blue told him, “We usually don’t when someone just gets coffee.”

“But the guy yesterday…” Ronan trailed off as he started putting two and two together. The hot barista had definitely been messing around with him. He had to have been. Which could have been the most fucked up way anyone had ever flirted with Ronan.

He found he kind of loved it.

“Oh,” Blue replied, dragging the word out as she narrowed her eyes at Ronan. “You.”

“Me what?”

“Adam mentioned you.”

“Adam,” Ronan said. He could not have thought of a more fortuitous name for the hot barista if he’d tried. “Mentioned me.”

“Yeah,” Blue replied. Her mouth twisted a little as she swept her gaze over Ronan, and when she met his eye again, she added, “You know what? That —” she jerked her chin at Ronan’s coffee “— is on the house.”

“Why?”

“Because Adam’s a shithead and you’re the only person who hasn’t complained about him.”

Ronan’s heart turned solid in his chest and started slowly sinking toward his stomach with the implication that the hot barista — Adam — wouldn’t be around Fox Way anymore. “Did he get fired or something?”

“No.” Blue shook her head and her dangling soda tab earrings rattled Ronan’s heart back into his chest where it belonged. “He has an organic chem lab. He’ll be back tomorrow. But some of our customers won’t be.”

More Adam for him, Ronan supposed. And he has an organic chem lab? Maybe Ronan hadn’t been too far off with the Einstein comment the other morning. That one sentence alone — combined with the Hooked on Phonics thing from Adam — proved he was way, way too academically overqualified to be working at Fox Way. He'd probably dicked around with Ronan, in part, to keep himself from dying of boredom. Even Ronan would pick an organic chemistry lab over working the cafe's register. Or possibly just a regular chemistry lab given he hadn't made it out of high school.

Picking up his coffee, Ronan — with absolute sincerity he didn't often display — said, “Thanks.”

Not just for the free coffee, but for finally allowing him to learn the hot barista’s name.

“No problem, man,” Blue replied, pert. “See you tomorrow.”

Needless to say, Ronan would be back. Not only because he had confirmation Adam was on the schedule, but because a lightbulb turned on in Ronan’s brain as he walked to his BMW, and instead of driving back to Declan's, he brought up the closest office supply store on his phone’s GPS.

When he walked into Fox Way Cafe the next morning, Ronan was not empty handed, and he got in line and waited his turn until he stood on the opposite side of the counter from Adam. Again, before Adam could grab a cup, Ronan stopped him. Not with an explanation or display he hoped would finally coerce Adam into spelling his name correctly, but with an offering.

“What’s this?” Adam asked, looking warily at Ronan’s hand, palm-up and extended toward him.

“A name tag,” Ronan replied. “Since it looks like this place is too cheap to make you one.”

The night before, Ronan had had too much fun teaching himself how to use a label maker, and for months after Ronan moved out, Declan would find labels around his townhouse on things that absolutely did not need labeling: the watch he wore only on special occasions, the bottle of lotion in his bedside drawer, the bad art he thought he kept well-hidden in the attic. Most importantly though, Ronan had used the label maker to print a name tag for Adam, which Ronan had smoothed onto a plastic badge he’d scoured Northern Virginia for so it was identical to the one he’d seen pinned to Blue.

Ronan had also had too much fun coming up with horrible ways of spelling Adam’s name, but he liked the one he’d settled on.

Ahdym.

Though Adam pressed his thin lips into a thin line, they twitched — more than once — as he looked at the tag in Ronan’s hand. For a second, Ronan doubted he would take it. That Adam had really just been fucking with him, not flirting with him at all. But finally — without saying thanks because, as Blue had confirmed, Adam was a shithead — Adam took the tag with his long, lean fingers and smoothly pinned it to the front of his apron before he looked at Ronan and asked, “Just coffee?”

“Yeah.” Ronan nodded, fighting valiantly to stop himself from smiling but losing. “Just coffee.”

Despite not needing to, Adam uncapped his marker as he picked up a cup, and what he wrote on the side of it was definitely longer than Ronan’s name in whatever horribly ridiculous way Adam chose to write it this time. But when Adam filled the cup and set Ronan’s coffee down on the counter, Ronan saw his name hadn’t been written on it at all.

The side of the cup read Adam with a phone number scrawled beneath it, and just under the number, Adam had written call me.

Likes, reblogs, kudos, and comments are much appreciated. 💕

#my fics #pynch #the raven cycle

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misslavenderlady · 10 months ago

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Lost Boys - TransFem AU

Part 3: Santa Carla and The Lost Boys

Truly a babe if ever there was one 💕

Mikayla Emerson

Once Mikayla gets to Santa Carla, she starts turning heads of some very special boys~

part 1 HERE, part 2 HERE

The events of the movie are pretty identical to what happens to Mikayla. She moves to Santa Carla after her parents' divorce and Lucy says it's a good change.

A difference in events is how things go with Grandpa. He's still his goofy self, but is a bit surprised to see how Mikayla looks. The last time he saw her, it was before she began HRT. However, Lucy had a long talk over the phone with him prior to their move, and he was very welcoming to his granddaughter.

As a welcome home present, Grandpa gives her a locket that belonged to her grandmother. Sam still gets taxidermy. Safe to say, Mikayla likes her gift a lot more.

Finding work has its challenges for Mikayla. She's able to use her looks to get a few job applications in to some shops, but the downside is that...80s sexism is very much a thing. It's a pain, but she's determined to help her mother in any way she can.

Mikayla and Sam still go to the concert, and she still spots Star. She's a lot more shy, as she's worried about how Star would feel about a girl having a crush on her. While Sam is at the comic book store, Mikayla decides to suck it up, and talk to Star.

She compliments her beautiful appearance, and to her delight, Star compliments her gorgeous hair and makeup. They have a bonding moment together, developing a friendship with a budding attraction to one another as well. She hopes to see Star again soon.

Little does she know she's going to meet someone else as well.

David and the boys didn't get a chance to see Mikayla the night she spoke to Star. They are, however, still instructed by Max to go after the children. Max is a very old fashioned man with outdated ideas about gender expectations. So he believes Lucy has two sons, not understanding that's not the case.

Because of this, the Lost Boys are on the lookout for a BOY. So when David spots a beautiful girl walking side by side with Star, he gets so captivated by her that he nearly crashed his bike into a lamp post.

The girls catch what happened, and Mikayla is the one to run over to David. Obviously he's not hurt, but she's still worried. Her big, blue eyes widening and her glossy lips pouting as she asks "hey, are you okay?"

David immediately turns on the charm.

"Well I must have gotten into an accident and died since I'm looking at an angel right now~"

Mikayla is FLUSTERED. He thinks her flushed cheeks are extra cute.

When the other boys get a look at her they are in full "babe alert" mode. They circle around her, not crowding her but making it clear they all think she's very beautiful. Star is annoyed that they're trying to cut in on girl time, but still introduces her new friend.

They are all so incredibly smitten, eager to get to know her better. They decide to put Max's plan on the back burner for the time being, not realizing they're inviting their very target to spend some time with them.

The first night in the cave is wildly different this time around. The boys have turned up the charm to 11, and want to make her comfortable, not play mind games with rice and noodles.

Dwayne breaks out his trusty skateboard to show off some tricks and see what she can do too. Paul pulls her onto his lap and gets his lips so close to hers that they're practically kissing before blowing smoke into her mouth (he offers it as a fun alternative to smoking the weed he has). When Marko returns with their food, he shows off his Italian skills to her, even calling her "Bella" and "Principessa".

Mikayla isn't used to such affection from such handsome boys. She enjoys their hospitality, but still holds her underlying fear of being rejected (or God forbid, attacked) if they learned more about her identity. The boys mistake her caution for shyness, and find it extra cute.

Star notices it too, and she begins to worry that Mikayla doesn't like them coming on so strong. She still tells the boys to leave her alone, just in a different context this time.

They enjoy her company all throughout the night. All of them like her, and see a great deal of potential in her as another member of their coven. Towards end of their time, David has some one-on-one time with her, and finds out she has a little brother named Sam. The gears start turning in his head and between that, her recent move from Phoenix and learning her mother works at the video store, he realizes that Mikayla is the one he's supposed to pursue.

He thinks Max is a total idiot for misgendering Mikayla.

David asks her to have some fun with them another night before toasting to her new addition into their club (with the blood, of course). She's still cautious and uncertain as to David's motives, but can't deny she's quite infatuated with him. They drink, and David helps her get home safe by following her on his own bike. He sends her on her way with a kiss on the back of her hand.

yadda yadda yadda train stuff still happens and Mikayla almost attacks Sam as the blood takes over her body.

In an interesting turn of events, David makes sure Star isn't at the cave the night Mikayla comes looking for answers. Mikayla is still very frightened by what's happening to her, but unlike Star saying she can't help, David calms her down, and explains everything.

He's open and honest and patient when she starts to pick a fight, not happy about what's happened to her. David promises her that she is safe, and that all of the boys and Star like her. He's still his manipulative self, twisting her mind to see that they can take care of her. She won't be alone. They want to be with her. The sweet nothings get to Mikayla, as she admits she doesn't want to be alone.

David kisses her, and to Mikayla's relief, he very much accepting of her being trans. This time around, David is the one to have sex with her in the cave~

Sam is worried about his sister and the Frogs are itching to hunt, but Mikayla has fallen in love, and it's about to let her fellow vampires get hurt. She hopes to patch things up with her brother and keep everyone safe. She knows that Max is dangerous, and will do whatever possible to get her happy ending.

Bonus:

Each member of the coven has a special nickname for her

David - My girl/darling

Dwayne - Beautiful

Marko - Principessa

Paul - Mama/Babe

Star - Mickey (It's what the girls on Mikayla's cheer squad called her. It's based off the Toni Basil song "Hey, Mickey")

#transfem Michael Emerson #the lost boys #tlb #lavender lady rambles #michael emerson #mikayla emerson #tlb au

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saltyowlet · 10 months ago

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BG3FicFeb Day 6

Lockpicking Lessons

Word Count: 947

No beta so mistakes will be made

Monks have high dexterity so might as well use it for unlawful things.

"If my memory serves me correctly, you were the one who asked me to teach you."

Olive groaned in frustration at the elf's belittling but kept her eyes focused on the locking mechanism. It had been a few days since she mustered up the courage, or rather, push down her pride to ask him about lockpicking. She always noticed how fast Astarion disarmed and broke into chests and wondered if she could do the same. Maybe she could put that skill on her belt. It at least be one of the few skills she would know where it came from, unlike the others from her foggy past.

What Olive didn't realize was how insanely bad Astarion was at teaching. With every turn of a knob, every stab with a pick, Astarion found something to scrutinize. He always had a condescending tone, no doubt that... but couldn't he at least tone it down??? Could he at least say "good job" for once? So far, she managed to pick at anything he threw at her, so why was he so damn demeaning. If it were for her pride and some sort of respect she had for Astarion, Olive would have quit by now. Hells, anyone would have.

"Counter-clock wise, my dear," Astarion muttered softly. Olive didn't dare turn around, just to see that look he would have when he was being a tad more of a prick.

"Oh, for the love of the hells, I KNOW!!!!" She heard a quiet chuckle. The sound itself was enough to make her cheek flush. From embarrassment or something else, she didn't want to think too deeply.

"Usually, people in my tent scream with me, not at me. So please keep in mind that others are around and we wouldn't want them to have a wrong impression of us, do we?" Astarion murmured. Olive didn't know whether to throw the tool kit at the still locked chest or at Astarion's face. Though if she had thrown it at him, then she would have seen a look of someone quite impressed of her efforts.

When the tiefling had asked him to teach her locking picking, Astarion outright laughed at her face. When he saw her nervous smile turn into an insulted frown, Astarion felt a tinge of regret at the pit of his stomach. To be honest, Astarion didn't even think about the fact that anyone would have noticed his lockpicking skills. One would assumed that lockpicking was a given for someone like Astarion. He wasn't exactly used to others coming to him to learn.

Well, learn about pleasure, undoubtedly. Learn about how to break into a locked door, usually told against it.

Even more surprising, it was Olive who was asking him. The monk wasn't 100% a driving force of light like Wyll, thank gods for that, but she wasn't about to maim some gnomes for gold either. She still had that righteous air about her that Astarion could not stand. So color him surprise at fact that Olive wanted to lockpick.

Color him even more surprised that Olive was a natural. Of course, nothing compared to his own flick of the wrist, but Olive managed to break through most of the locks he threw at her, and he only had been teaching for so little time. Astarion knew he wasn't made for teaching, so all of this choked up to be Olive's own skill. She didn't have the hands of someone who had done this before, Astarion could see that easily, but her hands moved like someone who worked with finessing. Due to her amnesiac conditions, it probably be a while until the reason manifested

"Almost there.....and-!" With a soft clunk, the chest flipped out revealing small trinkets and items that Astarion had collected over time. Olive jumped up from kneeling to turn to Astarion with a please grin. Astarion felt something in his heart but couldn't make out what it was or if he wanted to know what it was.

"Hah! Suck it, Astarion!" Astarion gave Olive his signature seductive look.

"Oh, I intend to, darling~" Olive rolled her eyes, but her smile still remained on her face. She put a hand on Astarion's arm, giving him a warm look.

"Thanks, Astarion, for teaching me. I know you are going out of your way to do this, so sorry if I get riled up easy."

And there it was, the one big reason Astarion was so willing to teach Olive. Despite their differences, and frankly, their antagonism towards each other, Olive never fell short in showing appreciation for Astarion each and every time he pushed her limits. No matter how critical Astarion was or how much Astarion expected from her, Olive took it all and still made sure to let him know how grateful she was. Her tenacity and drive to learn from him, despite her misgivings about him, it was enough for Astarion to give her a chance. And, even if he didn't want to admit it, it was nice for once to have someone in his tent without having to play up the flirtation. Doesn't mean he won't flirt time to time.

"If you wanted to rile me up, all you have to do is ask, darling," Astarion grinned. Olive sighed, exasperated, and gave him a playful punch.

"For once, could you give me a normal compliment?" Olive complained. Astarion gave her a knowing look. "If I were to compliment you, I rather it be with our bodies intertwine, clothes thrown on the floor."

Olive put her face in her hands and groaned irritably. The soft look and smile Astarion gave her went unnoticed by her and Astarion himself.

#BG3FicFeb #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 durge #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #dont know how much or how long ill do this challenge but i like the prompts #def not going to have art as often #im so rusty at writing a fic its been years

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mylostlenora · 4 months ago

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more queer (mostly sapphic) books on my tbr pt. 2!🤍🤍

1. Solita, Vivien Rainn

“Sadie is her name, and she is passing through the motions of a life soaked through with the stench of death. Grief-ridden nightmares plague her every sleepless night, only to continue into the day when she awakens to the burden of running her family’s centuries-old estate:

The Hacienda Espinosa, a yawning, black-wooded beast of a mansion nestled in the jungles of the Philippines' Palawan Island, a house that offers Sadie nothing but a perpetual reminder of what once was, what can never be again. She is alone, save for the sound of her own lonely, broken heartbeat—that is until the day she hears another. And it’s coming from beneath the floorboards.

Unearthing what was left to rot beneath the house, Sadie realizes her fatal mistake; the dark secret was never buried to be forgotten. It was buried to be sealed away.

It’s no mortal, no man, but the Hacienda’s first owner—a demon.

And he’s nothing like she expects.

It’s only through facing the past and her buried fears can Sadie find salvation as she upturns the Hacienda’s twisted roots, roots born from the faith and fire of the conquistas, the Spaniards who came from distant shores, bringing with them not only their God, but also their demons.”

2. In the Roses of Pieria, Anna Burke

“When Clara Eden is offered a job as an archivist working for eccentric estate owner Agatha Montague, she thinks her prayers have been answered. Soon, she finds herself sucked into the world of her research, captivated by a romantic correspondence thousands of years old. But as her feelings for her employer’s assistant, Fiadh, deepen, so too does her suspicion that something about Agatha Montague isn’t quite right. Unfortunately for Clara, by the time her suspicions are confirmed, it is far too late to run.”

3. The Deep, Rivers Solomon

“Yetu holds the memories for her people—water-dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women thrown overboard by slave owners—who live idyllic lives in the deep. Their past, too traumatic to be remembered regularly is forgotten by everyone, save one—the historian. This demanding role has been bestowed on Yetu.

Yetu remembers for everyone, and the memories, painful and wonderful, traumatic and terrible and miraculous, are destroying her. And so, she flees to the surface escaping the memories, the expectations, and the responsibilities—and discovers a world her people left behind long ago.

Yetu will learn more than she ever expected about her own past—and about the future of her people. If they are all to survive, they’ll need to reclaim the memories, reclaim their identity—and own who they really are.”

4. Our Share of The Night, Mariana Enriquez

“A young father and son set out on a road trip, devastated by the death of the wife and mother they both loved. United in grief, the pair travel to her ancestral home, where they must confront the terrifying legacy she has bequeathed: a family called the Order that commits unspeakable acts in search of immortality.

For Gaspar, the son, this maniacal cult is his destiny. As the Order tries to pull him into their evil, he and his father take flight, attempting to outrun a powerful clan that will do anything to ensure its own survival. But how far will Gaspar’s father go to protect his child? And can anyone escape their fate?

Moving back and forth in time, from London in the swinging 1960s to the brutal years of Argentina’s military dictatorship and its turbulent aftermath, Our Share of Night is a novel like no other: a family story, a ghost story, a story of the occult and the supernatural, a book about the complexities of love and longing with queer subplots and themes. This is the masterwork of one of Latin America’s most original novelists, “a mesmerizing writer,” says Dave Eggers, “who demands to be read.”

5. The Gilda Stories, Jewelle Gomez

“This remarkable novel begins in 1850s Louisiana, where Gilda escapes slavery and learns about freedom while working in a brothel. After being initiated into eternal life as one who "shares the blood" by two women there, Gilda spends the next two hundred years searching for a place to call home. An instant lesbian classic when it was first published in 1991, The Gilda Stories has endured as an auspiciously prescient book in its explorations of blackness, radical ecology, re-definitions of family, and yes, the erotic potential of the vampire story.”

6. To Be Devoured, Sara Tantlinger

“What does carrion taste like? Andi has to know. The vultures circling outside her home taunt and invite her to come understand the secrets hiding in their banquet of decay. Fascination morphs into an obsessive need to know what the vultures know. Andi turns to Dr. Fawning, but even the therapist cannot help her comprehend the secrets she's buried beneath anger-induced blackouts.Her girlfriend, Luna, tries to help Andi battle her inner darkness and infatuation with the vultures. However, the desire to taste dead flesh, to stitch together wings of her own and become one with the flock sends Andi down a twisted, unforgivable path. Once she understands the secrets the vultures conceal, she must decide between abandoning the birds of prey or risk turning her loved ones into nothing more than meals to be devoured." Sara Tantlinger's To Be Devoured capitalizes on our macabre preoccupation with the uglier side of nature, with love that topples into obsession, and with madness that is strangely beautiful in its barbarity.”

#gothic #sapphic horror #sapphic books #sapphic fantasy #dark fantasy #classic #faye #mermaid

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redladydeath · 16 days ago

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Okay, so ever since Prototype Vox was discovered, I've been slowly putting together this backstory for him and it's gotten... uh... long. Every section of this post was written at a different time, so you can track the development of this story as it goes on. Just wanted to share it again with the new additions included.

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And then the Radio Demon came walking through the door.

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Random thoughts about Vox’s overlord

She was enamored with him from the first moment she saw him. He was just so precious! And he was willing to do anything to receive her protection!

Her industry had nothing to do with entertainment; she took Vox in purely to be her own personal jester.

Not sure if she owned his soul or just had a deal with him to give him a safe place to live in exchange for his services.

Loved treating him like a doll. Would dress him in cute, oversized outfits, carry him around in her arms, and occasionally bring him to bed and cuddle him like some sort of plushie.

Vox fucking hated her and was glad to see Alastor bash her brains in and feature her on his show.

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Thinking about Vox and Alastor’s first encounter.

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Next thing Vox knew, he was nearly blinded by pain as his boss twisted his antenna almost to its breaking point. Her voice sickeningly sweet, she told him that she knew exactly what kind of man he had been— Earth’s crawling with them. But those days are over now. Respect has to be earned in Hell; it’s not just going to be handed to him like when he was alive. The afterlife has made him a joke, and the sooner he accepts that, the happier he'll be. That’s what he signed up for when they made their little arrangement, after all. She asked if she was understood and kept twisting his antenna until she got a loud-and-clear “Yes, ma’am” out of him. With that, she snapped back to normal and either cheerfully ushered him towards [whatever she was forcing him to do] or dismissed him in her typical patronizing manner.

Vox broke half the items in his room that night in a rage. He tried to leave gouges on his skin and dents in his head, but he couldn’t manage it, what with his stupid, soft little hands.

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Well, no one except Alastor, that is.

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Personal, headcanon-specific thoughts:

Proto Vox’s outfit is very similar to a costume he wore during his childhood on Vaudeville.

Alternate option: While I hc that sinners spawn naked, if they don’t, then Vox spawned in the exact 1920s sailor suit he used to wear during most of his childhood performances.

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Made Vox's room in the Sims

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Vox was in “storage” for the next week. He didn’t try to leave again after that.

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Thinking about Proto Vox and body dysmorphia

Vox hated everything about his body.

He hated being so small, not even half the size of most other sinners.

He hated his face, cute and goofy-looking. He hated his “missing tooth,” which only added to his childish appearance.

He hated his head, oversized and heavy. He hated how clumsy it made him at first, before he became accustomed to it.

He hated not having a physical mouth and being unable to eat.

He hated his voice, higher pitched than it had been when he was alive. He hated the childish-sounding lisp he had been afflicted with.

He hated how he couldn’t swear or talk about adult topics without his voice being drowned out by an in-built censor.

He hated his body and its strange combination of wood and metal, both of which bent in ways that shouldn’t’ve been possible.

He hated his hands, soft and rounded and nailless.

He hated how he had spawned without genitals, completely smooth and sexless, like a doll.

He hated how no one perceived him as anything even remotely resembling a sexual being, even though he was a fully grown man who had once had his pick of beautiful women when he was alive.

He hated how he weighed almost nothing, making him easy for others to pick up or restrain.

He hated the way nothing in Hell was built to accommodate sinners his size, forcing him to climb (or be lifted onto) things as simple as chairs.

He hated how often people mistook him for a child or deliberately talked down to him as though he was stupid, just because of his ridiculous body.

He hated how people laughed at him and how he had no choice but to make them laugh in order to keep himself alive.

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Most sinners are horrified when they see their new forms for the first time. Vox was just devastated.

He was horrified when he first woke up, of course– transported to a strange new place, surrounded by giant monsters, and barely able to keep from swaying under the weight of his oversized head. No one paid him or his panic any mind, save for a few smirks and chuckles. Vox found himself pressed up against a wall, out of the way of the flow of pedestrians, trying to process what was going on. Once he realized something was wrong with his body, he ducked into a nearby store, desperate to find a mirror (and get away from the crowds of fellow sinners). The store clerk let him in; they weren’t supposed to let newlydead into the shop since they usually just cause a scene, but Vox looked harmless, and they felt a little bad for such a tiny, fearful sinner. Vox made a beeline for the nearest mirror.

When his reflection finally came into view, Vox… he was lost for words. Seeing his childlike proportions, it finally registered that the world hadn’t gotten bigger; he’d gotten smaller. His body… there was something wrong with it. It was made of wood and metal, like a puppet, only the materials seemed to bend like rubber. Worse than that, it was completely smooth and featureless; his genitals were simply gone. His hands were soft, rounded, and nailless, more like stuffed gloves than human hands. His head was encased— no, not encased, replaced with a television set that looked like it made up the majority of his body weight. Displayed on its screen was a face like something out of a cartoon: large, shiny, googly eyes, a wide mouth, and one conspicuously absent tooth. All topped off with a pair of floppy, overly long antennas that made him resemble some kind of insect.

Vox was speechless, staring at his new body. He felt tears bubbling up as he examined each part of it. He wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew this wasn’t a dream and that this form would not be temporary. No tears fell though, trapped behind the glass of the— his screen. He couldn’t recall the moment of his death, but the realization of where he must be began to dawn on him. A soft, despairing sound escaped him, and Vox realized his voice, too, had been changed. He was not himself anymore, just this tiny, adorable thing, right out of one of the cartoons he’d been trying to repair the TV so his children could watch. A joke.

Suddenly, Vox felt someone grab him by the arm, dragging him away from the mirror, his feet barely brushing the floor. The owner had noticed a newlydead had snuck in and was having the prerequisite “What have I become?” freakout in their store. Carelessly, they shoved/threw Vox back onto the street and slammed the door behind them. Reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Vox stumbled and collapsed on the sidewalk, surrounded by sinners who either stepped around him like he was nothing or paused for a moment to chuckle at the clumsy newlydead struggling to regain his balance under the weight of his massive head.

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Vox's own shitty beliefs ended up being used against him during his early years in Hell.

In life, he'd treated his wife and son poorly because they complained about being unhappy with the way things were. Vox believed that if all your physical needs were met and you were able to live comfortably, you had no right to complain. He provided them with everything, and all he asked for in return was for them to be the happy, perfect wife and son he expected them to be. What was so hard about that?!

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Words were Vox's boss' preferred weapon when it came to surreptitiously tormenting him, but she wasn't above using physical violence as a means of "discipline" either. Aside from the antenna and "storage" incidents, she'd occasionally employ "percussive maintenance" at the beginning of his time with her in response to breaks in character or sullen comments. Once or twice, she burnt him with cigarettes in response to particularly "bad" offenses.

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Vox's boss would give him gifts sometimes. Little presents wrapped up all pretty with a bow. Sometimes, they were for special occasions, like the anniversary of his "coming to live with her"; sometimes, they were "rewards for good behavior." Vox would accept the presents graciously and then never open them, leaving them to collect dust in his room. There were a few occasions when she made him open them in front of her, though. Usually, they were just quaint little trinkets or clothes, but once, she gifted him a goldfish (or the Hellish equivalent) in a tiny bowl. It was the closest she'd gotten to something he'd actually want, yet it still felt like a veiled taunt. It didn't take long for the fish to die; its bowl was simply too small.

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Vox does his absolute best to keep his past a secret from everyone, particularly Valentino. He knows on some level that it wouldn’t really change anything, other than give Val and Vel something else to tease him about, but Vox’s ego is so fragile that he feels like he’d die if they found out. Unfortunately for him, Valentino is incredibly observant when he wants to be. He doesn’t know the specifics, but based on various little things from throughout the years and the pointed insults he’s heard Alastor throw at Vox, he can guess that Vox’s early days in Hell were... less than auspicious. However, he assumes Vox was just some corporate toady, and he would be just as shocked as anyone else to learn how Vox actually began his afterlife.

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Playing with the idea that Vox’s boss hired him with no ulterior motives; she simply thought he was cute and would be an easy source of entertainment. However, as time went on and she got a better sense of what kind of person Vox was, she began deliberately tormenting him. The abuse and humiliation started off under the pretext that she was only doing it to “correct an attitude problem,” but it soon became clear that her real issue with Vox had nothing to his abilities as a performer.

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It doesn’t really fit with the “lore” I’ve been putting together for this AU, but the idea of Vox trying to go in for various media/performance auditions and either being laughed out of them or told to look into less dignified roles is compelling to me. He looks and sounds so much like a goofy little child, why on Earth would anyone even consider him, especially when there are countless other sinners looking for work whose forms aren’t so distractingly cutesy?

I’ll be honest, Babydoll from Batman TAS is a significant influence on how I conceptualize Proto Vox.

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Reminds me of @fakeannafromthebox's Caterpillar Val AU. Vox is so miserable. He wants to be back in his modified body NOW, but it's going to take a while for them to rebuild it. Val and Vel tease him about it at first... until they realize that Vox is genuinely really hurt by it. He never wanted them to see him like this.

The denizens of Hell are confused why Vox is suddenly on a month-long hiatus when he's literally never taken a break from the media before.

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Been considering whether it should just be happenstance that brings Vox and Alastor together, or if Vox should hit his breaking point, go behind his boss' back, and send Alastor a false message in her name, hoping that it will provoke him into killing her.

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Had a mental image today of Vox sitting in on one of his boss’ conversations with a colleague, as per usual. He’s bored and miserable until the two overlords start discussing the Radio Demon. Vox has heard stories— might’ve even caught one or two of Alastor’s broadcasts— but he’s never heard him discussed like an actual person rather than an urban legend. Vox’s boss starts shittalking Alastor, and Vox suddenly gets an idea. He begins secretly recording her, capturing all her private complaints about him on tape. Vox is terrified what she might do to him if she found out what he was doing, but at this point, he was so good at masking his true emotions that she doesn’t even notice anything is off. Vox held onto that recording until he gained access to a communications device. He hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the ways this plan could go wrong and result in his permanent death, but… he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He couldn’t bear to stay here any longer.

Alastor figured out it was Vox who sent him that message a couple years into their friendship, but he didn’t hold it against him. In fact, he was impressed with Vox’s determination, taking his fate back into his hands regardless of the risks. He eventually told Vox so himself when the topic came up years later.

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Vox once made the mistake of snapping that he was not a child at one of his boss’ colleagues who had been talking about him like he was too stupid to understand what they were saying. Honestly, the momentary shock on the colleague’s face was not worth the ensuing, agonizing conversation where his boss muted him, apologized to the other overlord, then prompted them to try to guess his real age, and took far too much pleasure in explaining to them that despite Vox’s appearance, he was actually 41.

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Thinking about Proto Vox sitting in on his boss' overlord meetings like the Egg Bois in episode 3. Most of the time, his boss would hold him in her lap like a doll, but sometimes she'd leave him sitting on the ground until the meeting ended. He wished he had a way to put the information he was “eavesdropping” on to good use, but he wasn't allowed to leave the stupid compound without being accompanied by his boss.

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One particularly dehumanizing experience Vox remembers far more vividly than he would like was the first time his overlord stripped him naked without his consent so she could redress him in a new outfit she’d picked out. This became a semi-frequent occurrence, but it never stopped making his skin crawl. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to someone like him, and yet here he was, robbed not only of the freedom to choose his own clothes, but even to dress himself if his boss so willed it.

Even over half a century later, Vox still needs to be coaxed and convinced by Valentino to surrender control during sex. He has no intention of ever telling Val why having someone else undress him puts him on edge.

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cw sexual assault

The first time Vox’s overlord stripped him naked was also when she discovered that he had no genitals. Of course, she couldn’t let that fact go uncommented on and groped between his legs to confirm, cooing all the while about how perfect Vox was. Vox didn’t even have time to dissociate during the experience; it all happened so fast. Before he had time to process what happened, he was already being redressed in whatever stupid outfit she’d picked out for him that time. The dissociation came later.

In hindsight, Vox thinks it’s sort of darkly funny how he felt as though he’d been sexually assaulted despite not having any sex organs at the time. It’s really not.

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Oh, I'm glad you liked the post!

Yeah, I can see Alastor giving that roach speech to Vox when he's trying to convince him to stop modifying himself. Vox is just like "You think I'm a bug???" He never noticed; he was too focused on the cartoon/TV thing. Message not received.

Alastor probably has weird feelings about the way Vox's old boss treated him. On one hand, it's kind of funny, and Alastor's clearly not opposed to treating people like pets given his later relationship with Husk. On the other... he feels a weird sort of kinship with Vox in so many regards, and his relationship with his overlord... [leak discussion] it's uncomfortably similar to Alastor's with his contract holder– tricked into a bad deal, treated with condescension, and forced to pretend to adore them in public [end leak discussion]. Alastor likes the idea of helping Vox gain power and rise above his station, but not him changing himself in order to accomplish that goal– he sees too much of himself in Vox to stand that.

Vox doing ad reads/voice overs for Alastor's show is a great idea. Perfect way to get back into the industry without opening himself up to mockery, plus he's got a wonderful voice. Would also give him another reason to hate radio once he and Al split: audio-only work will always be a reminder of a time when he couldn't bear to be seen.

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Might incorporate how long it’s taking me to come up with a name for Vox’s boss by making it so he’s only allowed to call her “Ma’am”/“Madam”/“Miss” instead of her actual sinner name.

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Thoughts on Proto Vox in the RAM verse

Proto Vox thoughts that heavily feature my OCs

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Once he finally gained the ability to project a functioning mouth onto his screen, Vox got himself into some… interesting situations trying to keep up with Alastor whenever they went out for drinks. He didn’t care that he was half Alastor’s size; he’s drinking just as much as he is! Maybe even more!!

Those were some of the funniest nights Alastor had (and still has) ever experienced.

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Thinking about Vox, dead for a week or so, with cracks in his screen and dressed only in a button up shirt he stripped off a corpse double his size, attempting to pitch himself to his soon-to-be overlord and trying not to come across as desperate as he truly was. The streets of Hell aren't kind to anyone, but especially not to defenseless-looking, newly arrived sinners with body parts that could potentially be resold. In his short time in Hell, Vox had already had multiple people try to strip him for parts, and had only escaped them by the skin of his teeth. He'd barely been able to sleep since he arrived, constantly on-guard for more attackers. He looked a fucking wreck, but that only added to his charm in his boss' opinion. He looked like a starving Victorian orphan trying to give a serious business pitch– so cute!

#redlady speaks #hazbin posting #proto vox au #vox #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox the tv demon #2013 vox #cockroach vox #alastor #radiostatic #radiosilence #and a couple mentions of #valentino

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