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malleleothreesome · 6 months ago

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Fellow Honest Drunken Confession Feat. Playful Land Cast

(Ch.1 & Ch.2)

🌟 summary: Rewriting the end of Playful Land event where instead of Fellow Honest running away, he tries to convince you and your classmates to go out drinking with him. Cause he's super into you. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: gender neutral reader, SFW so far (undecided on the end), fluff, romance. This is a slice of life comedy. You're just gonna have to go into it blind. Take my word for it. You're gonna love it. If you don't, don't tell me. All characters assumed to be of legal drinking age besides Gidel. ༶༶༶ 🌟 inspired by: this ask from @omo-kitty thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

🌟 song: Trust Fund "Oh, where, oh, where is my trust fund? Why can't I get ahead? 'Cause I have to work My daddy's such a jerk For not givin' me all his cash" ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 4.7k

Fellow Honest lets out an exasperated sigh, perched next to you and your classmates as the massive cruise ship that housed Playfulland amusement park sinks into the ocean’s abyss. With his hands clasped behind his head, a carefree grin lights up his face.

"You know what?" He asks, turning to you.

His fox ears twitch atop his head as a salty breeze sifts through his orange hair. Night was encroaching, a half moon suspended in the starry sky, pale and glowing. You stare back into his face, noting the visible points of his fangs, and the tip of his curly orange tail swishing happily.

Fellow winks as he laughs his signature haughty cackle. "Do you want to grab a drink sometime?"

Ace Trappola perks up at the mention of alcohol and barrels forward, face beaming with naivety. "Hey, free drinks? You're talking to the right person, Man. You gonna let us drink free? I mean, it's like, the least you could do for trying to traffic us, am I right?"

Trey Clover hisses, “Ace!!!” in a desperate (and failed) attempt to shut him up.

Fellow regards the spectacle with the blankest of stares, his ear flicking as a whisper of a wince flickers across his visage.

The monster of a man tilts his head and smiles slyly to you—and only you.

His eyes sweep you up and down as he croons, "just you and me, Hot Stuff. We're talking romantic, steamy even. We’re connected… don't deny it. Whaddaya say?"

Fellow steps closer, tongue running along his canines as he looks you up and down with a cheeky grin and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "You, me, alone, drinking, talking... I'll be real good to you—I'm an honest guy! All my business is legit now!"

He throws his head back, and with a flourish of his arms, roars with a particularly raucous laughter. Upon composing himself, his piercing orange eyes turn sharp, and he flashes you another lecherous look. A smirk plays on the corner of his lips, an eyebrow rises suggestively. Fellow leans to whisper in your ear, lingering in the electricity of your aura a bit too long before speaking. You shiver.

His voice drops to a low, suggestive purr as hot breath grazes your neck, "but, if you like, a little bit naughty ain't out of the question... "

Before you can respond, Ace—unable to be subdued by Trey—makes his way back over and elbows you in the arm. As clueless as ever, his freckled cheeks flush bright pink from excitement.

"Free drinks, Bro! He's an underworld mobster, Dude—a high ranking one—we'll be VIPs anywhere we go. We’ll be sipping absolute top shelf… not that gross, warm piss from a barrel everyone else gets!"

Ace is giving the performance of his lifetime, gripping his heart and holding out his arms in utter theatrics, then leaning heavily on your shoulder.

"Free… top shelf… liquor!" Ace shouts to the rest of your classmates, waving them over.

Fellow's eyebrow elevates further, threatening to leave the confines of his forehead. His eyes remain dead, cold. His tail, for once, stays perfectly still, frozen in an upright arch. When his lips part in a rigid smile and his shoulders begin to shake, a venomous displeasure radiates from him, palpable enough for you to feel on your own skin. Out of his mouth spills a jumble of fragmented curse words and giggles. You look at him in mild alarm, unsure if he has finally reached a state of losing his goddamn mind, or if he's about to commit a violent murder—starting with Ace.

Fellow holds up both gloved palms, covering his face. Slowly shaking his head, he doubles over, wiping away tears of hysteria in an uproarious guffaw. You are stunned, staring as Fellow wheezes and struggles to get ahold of his faculties.

Catching his breath, he throws back his head and bellows with unrestrained joy, "The sheer audacity! The unmitigated gumption of this fool—oh my GOD.”

In a valiant effort to calm himself, he holds up his hands, as if praying, a wicked grin plastered across his face. Ace squints suspiciously at his antics, still totally clueless to Fellow's intent. Trey shakes his head slowly, rubbing his face in abject defeat, looking as if he's willing his brain to purge the trauma of ever coming to this place.

Fellow breathes deeply. "Sorry, sorry, it's just funny, oh my God. Wow. He has some balls on him, I'll give him that! I really admire the gall. You know what? This brat might have a career in the biz." The fox beastman reaches out and condescendingly ruffles Ace's head of red hair.

"Alright, tough guy. Yeah, let's go get boozed. And hey, little Bastard—" his fiendish grin takes a more sinister tone, fangs slightly exposed. "Just so you know, if your pathetic college didn't send that sweetheart…” He winks suggestively at you, before his eyes wander across the crowd of students, utterly unimpressed, “I'd never be letting any of you idiots go. No way! I’d have dragged each of you back to my boss by force. Don't test my generosity or my kindness."

Smirking, he shoves his finger into Ace's face, leaning towards him with intent to intimidate.

Fellow takes a sharp inhale and clasps his hands shut. "Now, just for fun, let's get liquored up on the highest rooftop bar, play some poker, do a little dancing..." His eyes flit back over to you— "...maybe some smooches, hey?" A foxy yip punctuates his sentence. His eyes return back to Ace, whose lips are pressed in a firm, disapproving line. Fellow's eyebrow twitches with delight as he takes in Ace's defiance, biting his lip for a second so as not to cackle.

"There isn't going to be any 'VIP treatment,' 'free drinks,’ or 'top shelf.' Is that clear? Who do you think I am? You think I like doing that type of shit?"

He points to the water, gesturing to the decimated remnants of the amusement park. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Kid, people don't do those types of jobs because they're loaded.”

He leans down to get eye level with Ace, using expressive jazz hands and a pompous voice. “'Oh, man, my yacht's all paid off and ready, better become a goddamn kidnapping organ trafficker—oh, the glamor! The luxury!' Do you understand what I'm saying, you dinky little shit?"

You can't help it—you burst out laughing. His grin returns full force, and he winks at you knowingly. He looks back to your classmates, and you consider his movements. The pure self-assurance in his stride, his careless and brazen attitude, his cheeky cockiness—intricate pieces of exactly what drew you to him initially. While his irreverence for any societal construct has both scared and enamored you, the sheer madness he exhibits on a regular basis is so addictive. How could you deny a guy with this level of audacity? You really, really want to give it a whirl—experiment with what might be if you throw caution to the wind.

His smile grows, noting the chagrin across your classmate's faces. Fellow gestures dramatically once more, his gloved hands clawing through the air, his gesticulations growing increasingly overzealous as he waxes poetic on the harsh realities of adult life.

"So, listen up. Listen very carefully. Picture this: I'm poor. I'm scrappy. I was homeless. I don't even own the suit you're seeing right now! My clothes are stolen off the street." His expression darkens, ears and tail drooping, shoulders slumped, and head lowered. For a fleeting, transitory instant, there's an indiscernible emotion that flickers through his eyes—something genuine that betrays his frivolity. "That boy is the only family I have, and we've got nothing to our name."

He stares forward at something only he can see, his gaze boring a hole into the horizon. It is a wistful, haunted gaze, a longing and lost memory in his eyes, a sad sigh that drifts on a gentle summer breeze, lost within its dreams. "Not a single thing. Just the two of us, struggling and barely making ends meet, scraping by in this horrible, unforgiving, greedy world that cares not for the innocent and goodhearted folk. We need to be greedy. Selfish, if we want to keep each other safe. So, excuse me for being just a tad on the offensive side, you entitled fucking brats! I had to be the strongest so I could support the both of us. You truly know nothing about suffering—this isn't a pretty life to have and it isn't fair, yet, what can you do? Adapt, or die. There is no romanticism about hunger, about living like animals, constantly scrambling for scraps of food like the world is a bottomless garbage can and you are its filthiest dog." The sardonic chuckle he gives isn't unkind, merely tinged with bittersweet longing. You reach a hand out, resting it on his shoulder, and his fingers close over it with a soft caress.

There's a touch of vulnerability in his eyes, and his words strike a cord that resonates deeply within your soul. Though it hurts and grieves you, his explanation was enough for you—a starting point of understanding, as you accept him exactly for who he is. You see beyond the facade—the sheer intensity of the desperation that underlines his words and actions, that hollowness within him that yearns for more than the world can provide.

Fellow seemed to awaken with greater purpose when you looked into his soul and told him he didn't have to do bad things. Something shifts in his eyes as he considers new paths. You see the stitches holding his tattered spirit together loosen slightly, revealing glimpses of his raw wounds, the aches and scars that he buries with sarcasm and callousness. His vibrant, intelligent, playful nature deserves more—his life isn't meant to be wasted, yet he feels as if that's precisely what he has done, resigning himself to this existence of bitter hatred against the world. When you meet his gaze, you feel a tenderness blooming in the chilly winter frost of his chest, like the first glimpse of spring. At last, you can sense the farce crumble, and the real Fellow taking shape underneath. You wish you could spend the rest of the evening talking to him.

Fellow's fingers remain intertwined with yours as the moment passes and his flirtation returns. There is an uncanny ease with which the man is able to keep his expression blank while swapping personalities, as if each identity is a costume he wears as long as it suits him. A fleeting look of sadness drifts over him before being replaced by his cheeky, foxy smirk. He reasserts the cocky, irreverent demeanor—his favorite cloak. His orange eyes flit towards yours before gazing into the crowd of your classmates. You squeeze his palm reassuringly, and he beams down at you with gratitude. His finger swipes across your cheek, gently brushing it.

Fellow smiles his carefree smile, but there's a warmth and gentleness behind his orange gaze now.

"All that being said,'' the beastman claps his hands together, grinning widely and putting on another showman's performance, "I bet I could do a little persuading to get us some free booze. We're going drinking, my new friends!" He throws his hands up jovially.

A chorus of voices in front of him ring out in dissonance at the thought, except for Ace—who is whooping and hollering triumphantly, and Kalim, who is cheering in earnest. Before the rest of your classmates have time to voice their objections, Fellow shouts out, pointing at everyone, a finger dramatically extending in the air.

"Ah, ah ah—none of your whining and sniveling bullshit, you snot-nosed punklings. We're all getting our rocks off tonight and it's on me. Consider this the apology tour for almost making you all... well, go into involuntary servitude, to put it lightly."

The corner of his lips twitch as his orange eyes scan the crowd for recognition, yet remain friendly despite his teasing.

"Besides, a celebration is due! What I learned tonight was so startling to me—I did not foresee myself going down an honest path, a career in helping the helpless. This is truly life-altering, and it's all thanks to you folks."

Another moment of vulnerability flickers in his eyes and his mouth is slack, letting the raw honesty and realization of change settle. A stunned silence from the crowd ensues.

Flailing his arms wildly to keep up and air of lightheartedness, Fellow huffs, the first signs of exertion finally showing. He was beaten up pretty badly while trying to detain your classmates, after all. He continues his pitch.

"Of course, no hard feelings or anything. Just a nice fun night, free drinks, music, laughter—how could any of you possibly turn down such a gift?"

With a grin and a gesture to the amusement park's busted entrance gate, he declares his final verdict.

"It is your final day off before a lifetime of school, study, stress and commitment to society—your youth is ending, friends. Embrace this wonderful last sunset of freedom—because by tomorrow, we will all be under the yoke of labor, spending our lives slaving away to pay rent while we deal with taxes and the true horror of capitalism! At least, those without trust funds, right? Hah."

Once more, your classmates all clamor with protests.

"Like Hell I’m goin’ out drinking with that guy! Don't take orders from that shady jackass," Leona roars through the crowd.

Fellow’s scowls, tail swishing vehemently back and forth.

"Ya just met him yesterday and he was about to sell us all off! Does a sociopath's Nice Guy act not make you the least bit suspicious or even nervous? Don't fall for it. No one's that forgivin' or stupid." Leona stares coldly at the conman with an indignant sniff as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Vil stands with his arms crossed as well, but his posture and expression exude boredom as he blows out an annoyed exhale, visibly judging his idiot classmates. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with Leona once again," he chimes in, ignoring the aggravated huff from the Savanaclaw dorm leader. "Our kidnapper is insistent on buying us drinks? Who does that?! Clearly, this guy has something up his sleeve." Vil clicks his tongue derisively, and flicks his purple hair over his shoulder in dismission.

Floyd, ignoring the forewarnings entirely, throws his arms up happily. He bellows, "hell yeah! What's better than a night of heavy partying to lighten up the mood, right? Bring it on. There's alcohol involved? It’s free? I’m in." He giggles maniacally, wrapping an arm around Fellow to pull him in for an enthusiastic noogie (and completely ignoring the pained squeaks coming out of the conman's mouth). Floyd’s twin brother, Jade, grins in agreement to the proposal.

Trey adjusts his glasses nervously, brows knitting and mouth stuck in a grimace. He opens mouth and closes his mouth a few times before suggesting, with trepidation, “it is... quite unusual for him to take us out drinking all of a sudden... are we sure this isn't some sort of trap, or a game, or—"

Trey is cut off by a loud groan from Ace. "Weren't you guys paying attention?!" Ace shakes his head rapidly and scoffs with derision. "He's obviously trying to get into Y/n's pants! The guy's totally thirsty! How are you not seeing this? He was checking Y/n out when he was doing all that crazy shit in the amusement park."

A tense moment of silence falls across your class as they turn their heads towards you, eyeing you with surprise. "He's been hitting on the prefect this entire time! His weird-ass obsession is for real—no joke or scam. He's interested, I know it when I see it. He knows Y/n's not gonna go unless he takes all of us. So, like... yes, of course I'm into free beer!"

Ace's red eyes gleam like he's just discovered the polio vaccine, proud of his insightfulness and intellect. The other students look back and forth between you and the notorious criminal fox beastman, noting his nonplussed smirk, calm tail wagging, and the way in which his ears prick up in excitement at the conversation about you.

Another uncomfortable moment passes. Your cheeks feel warm, knowing everyone's eyes are still on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet them.

Kalim claps his hands together and chirps, "oh yeah, come to think of it, he does seem like he's super fond of you! All his cute talk and that sparkle he gets in his eyes when he looks at you and listens to your every word—he clearly really, really likes you, Y/n! That's totally awesome you found someone special in such a dark place!"

Kalim is—almost comically—unaffected by Fellow's unsavory reputation. "And isn't it great if he's truly starting down a righteous path instead of being a bad criminal who hurts and steals from people? We've got to support him, this could be his fresh start! We're his friends, and that's what friends are for—they help each other out. We'll save him from evil!"

Kalim is positively beaming now, his energy infectiously reassuring and radiant. "I’m looking forward to a fun night, count me in!"

Leona scrunches up his face and screws his eyes shut before looking into the distance. It’s as if his consciousness has departed, from the sheer idiocy of this conversation.

“How much has that fuckin' clown got you brainwashed already to make you spout such delusions of grandeur?!" He gapes at Kalim's relentless positivity. "C'mon Jack, we're goin' back. They can handle themselves." Without a backward glance, he walks away, trusting that the freshman will follow suit.

With a short sigh of resignation and a brief incline of his head, Jack follows along in his dorm leader's wake. "Sorry, guys," he murmurs. "I gotta agree with my Housewarden. Something doesn't feel right. Hope to see you all later." The wolf man turns his back and trots to catch up with Leona.

Fellow wears an indecipherable expression as he watches them leave. The muscles around his eye twitch slightly and an ear has flattened against his hair in annoyance. Though Fellow is doing his level best to remain unaffected by the sour reactions, a tiny tendril of disappointment wavers briefly over his features. His resolve steels, yet he keeps his smile, resolutely ignoring their mutterings as his fox tail sweeps side to side. His body language remains relatively casual and open, save for a subtle defensive set in his posture and shoulders. He stands a little taller in an attempt to maintain his cool.

Vil scoffs and walks over to the gate, holding up his perfectly manicured hands in mock surrender. "There's no amount of liquor on the planet worth suffering his disgusting presence or getting tangled in whatever diabolic schemes he's attempting. He's a repugnant vagabond with nothing but deceit and manipulation oozing from his vile, malicious tongue. Y/n, you can do far better—really, anyone with a proper background and education instead of someone from the fringes of society who can't even feed himself."

With a flip of his hair, Vil sniffs dismissively. He gives you one last look of disapproval before strolling away in search of a less irritating place to be.

Ace begins to panic, feeling his chance at free drinks slipping through his fingers. "Wai- Wait- wait, WAIT—everybody STOP," Ace frantically exclaims in desperation. "Come back, you can't just leave! Come on! There’s free alcohol at stake here! Please?! Dammit. UGH!"

Vil's words seemed to hit home. Fellow's unbreakable poker face crumbles as his ears pull down flat against his scalp. His tail stiffens, lowering between his legs in utter humiliation. The fox beastman swallows thickly as the tides of his happiness drain. Gidel scurries up to Fellow and places a hand gently on his back to console his guardian. Fellow tries to plaster a makeshift grin back on, but his pain bleeds through, brow furrowed and eyes darting, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

Ace blinks and smiles awkwardly before muttering, "Well, now I actually feel pretty bad." His freckled face reddens slightly, cheeks taking on a darker tinge of rose as the color creeps out to his ears. A soft, self-conscious laugh tumbles from his mouth. He runs a hand through his copper-red hair, clearly caught somewhere between guilt and shame—internal conflict is evident.

Despite all the flippant, disrespectful comments, teasing and general disregard Ace has shown Fellow, this complete and public emotional breakdown appears to hit Ace harder than he'd care to admit, and perhaps—just maybe—a faint sense of kinship forms at the connection he sees between himself and the conman. Two jovial and clownish individuals—born entertainers. Suddenly, this moment strikes Ace more so than anything else Fellow has said or done thus far, leaving the redhead oddly touched. It’s as if his own heart was personally struck by the kind, selfless soul Fellow seems to be deep down, no matter how hard the foxman tries to keep it buried.

"Listen, man," Ace smiles shyly, shifting from foot to foot with his thumbs stuck in his belt loops. "You know, even if nobody else says it, I, uh... Well... If you're going straight," Ace chuckles, clearing his throat, "like you say, then you're pretty cool. Besides, all your antics are pretty funny. And... The way you really care for him..." Ace stares with admiration, nodding his head towards Gidel, voice low with reverence. His cheeks are completely red now, unable to formulate words, just awkwardly shuffling around trying to escape his own embarrassment.

"You're a... a really good big brother. You know," He sputters, blinking and glancing to the side before slowly looking back at Fellow, and then you. "So... Just forget about Vil's stupid bullshit and move on. Because..." He pauses for a second before nodding assuredly, his confidence growing. "Because you've got plenty to give! It might not feel like it, and sometimes there will be a moment where all seems lost..."

You shake your head in disbelief. Had Ace just openly spoken words of wisdom? Such kind words, too—from him of all people! That, surely, is the sign of an actual miracle happening, since Ace, your dearest friend, is not typically one for… sincerity. ‘Shocking’ would be an understatement. Ace's friendly gaze causes Fellow's orange eyes to grow glassy. Your classmates, equally as stunned, stare at Ace in open astonishment.

Ace presses on with his impromptu speech, conveying the utmost sincerity, "You've got to be strong and push past your misfortune, and not allow yourself to think you're not worthy of love or care." His smile grows warmer and he turns his face to you, making brief eye contact before casting his gaze back towards Fellow. "I just know that somewhere out there, a happy life awaits you... and maybe... there's someone wonderful to share it with."

Now why would Ace allude to you when you haven't even decided your feelings yet? You quickly turn around to conceal the rising flush in your cheeks. You’re somewhere between mortified and thrilled for Ace to publicly express his support of your romance. Nerves flood your stomach—the anticipation, the prospect of falling in love has made you equal parts anxious and giddy. A mixture of euphoria and despair hits you all at once—how beautiful to acknowledge your affections for the fox man—yet, can you commit?

You look over at Cater and mouth with abject horror: 'What the fuck is going on?'

Cater looks thoroughly entertained by the entire event, flashing you a thumbs up. He bites his lower lip, silently giggling to himself. He snaps a picture of you on his phone—the audacity.

Cater mouths back, “looks like someone has a cru-ush.”

Your face displays all of your confusion. “Stop—shh—be serious, this is real,” you whisper, stifling a tiny, strained giggle and putting an end to the banter by sternly holding out your index finger.

This is too much—too fast—you feel helpless, swept up in the stormy waves of fate and romance. One single day has dragged on and on, as if stretched forever by the overwhelming events of your trip. Even Fellow's unexpected change of heart is but a fleeting part of some fever dream—it couldn’t have all been real. An insane whirlwind romance, a kidnapping, a deadly amusement park, and a desperate con artist—who you’ve become increasingly drawn to. This has been one of the strangest experiences of your entire life.

Glancing quickly over your shoulder, you catch Gidel grinning and bouncing happily, his eyes bright with energy, seemingly thrilled at the idea of you and Fellow becoming partners. His excitement is contagious, and it only adds fuel to the fire in your heart. To know the little boy holds high hopes for the two of you—maybe something is already blooming? Blood pounds in your veins and a tightness builds in your chest, causing your heartbeat to drum ever faster as Fellow takes a step toward you.

He gently turns you to face him. His grip is strong, yet soft. A twinge of hope tugs at the corners of his lips, though his posture betrays his vulnerability and fear of rejection. His interest in you is palpable, and the seriousness of the impending moment makes you want to run away. As hesitant as you are to admit it, you definitely feel a connection to this man—one beyond lust. A deeper bond transcends physical attraction, as if your hearts are bound, stitched with a million red puppet strings of fate. With each pump of blood, another thread pulls taut, drawing the two of you closer together.

You're nervous, embarrassed, and entirely unsure of what you want. In an attempt to stall, you address your remaining classmates. "Well, I sure could use a drink right now! How about it?" Slight panic italicizes your statement.

Ace raises his hands in the air with triumph. "Fuck yeah," he laughs, looking around eagerly. Cater looks relieved to have the perfect excuse to drink a ridiculous amount of booze without getting nagged by Riddle for acting inappropriate. Trey sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in a strained manner, as if resisting another stress-related aneurysm. He nods with resignation that he won't be back at Heartslabyul any time soon, committing himself to making sure none of the trouble-making underclassmen get up to their usual antics of havoc, mayhem and chaos. You catch Trey mutter, "I will definitely regret this," to himself, but you still allow a surge of gratitude wash over your anxious heart at his kind gesture.

Lilia's laughter rings out, the night breeze sweeping back his hair to reveal a playful grin. "The Pop Music Club is always down for a fun time. This will be the perfect opportunity for me to show Kalim and Cater how to really party! Oh, what a splendid evening this will be," he gleams, patting his clubmates heartily on the shoulders. They both gulp, nervous about his declaration.

The gentle moonlight reflecting off the ocean catches Lilia's irises in a breathtaking display of shimmering crimson. In a flash, he materializes in front of Fellow, nearly scaring the poor fox out of his skin. Lilia's lips are curled in a wide, sly smile and he stares deep into his soul.

After a moment of silence, he narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue, stepping forward and speaking conspiratorially. "But tell me the truth. What really is the score on this entire set-up?" The sinister, terrifying nature Lilia exhibits makes Fellow's ears tremble and tail swish madly in defense, eyes large and alert. Fellow lets out a nervous yelp, frozen as the staring contest commences. After what appears to be some type of mental standoff, the vampire's demeanor eases.

Lilia puts a comforting arm around Fellow and hugs him to his side, eyes glowing brighter. "Ah, young love! So fun to watch! You two have my blessing," Lilia beams at the stupefied Fellow, whose ears still lay flat against his scalp in terror. His tail is tucked tightly between his legs in an act of submission, a concession of defeat.

With that, your classmates trail out of the boardwalk, away from the ruins of the defunct Amusement Park. Their loud banter fills the night air, a jovial cacophony of nonsense and delirium. Fellow places one hand between Gidel's shoulder blades to gently guide him along, and he extends his other to you, silently inviting you to interlace your fingers with his. His expression is relaxed and expectant—but his eyes show his nerves. His smooth, gloved palm envelops your hand and together, the three of you follow your classmates.

🌟 song: Violence (Club Mix) - Grimes ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 1.8k

The dark streets of the city are lit in an amber glow from the many shops that stay open late, with neon signs boasting special deals and hot food creating a gorgeous rainbow of flashing colors in the night. Bustling crowds move briskly, pouring in from all directions. They mill around, eager to engage in the nightlife of the entertainment district, excited to partake in their desired sins. You follow a group of partygoers through an arching entranceway that has the phrase 'Hell's Den' lit above the metalwork in garish crimson lights. Passing underneath the grand entrance and entering the gaudy exterior is another world of sound, color and light—a vibrancy not meant for the meek. The entirety of the complex is covered with glowing tiles, casting a radiant aura in such a dazzling fashion it reminds you of a place in your home world: Las Vegas.

Welcoming aromas of cigarettes, alcohol, and cheap cologne, and the buzzing, neon atmosphere draws a content sigh from Fellow. The wide array of faces passing by—all of them new and shining with happiness, seeking to escape their own respective realities. There is something inspiring about this bustling den of iniquity. The electricity that percolates within the underground is like a shot of adrenalin. It's pure magic. It is no wonder all of this serves as an irresistible lure for those craving freedom. In this night-city, any sinner can find solace.

As you pass the main foyer of Hell's Den, an enormous set of double doors lies ahead. Three large, burly bouncers loiter at the entrance and peer closely at you all.

"Now what do we have here?" the bouncer booms, zeroing in on Gidel. The bouncer points towards the kid, accusatory. "Ain't he a little young for this joint?"

All heads turn towards Gidel, who stands proud and fearless in the face of these mountainous men. While most everyone else shifts nervously, Gidel plants his little hands on his hips and looks up at the bouncers unabashed, pursing his lips in an indignant pout and giving an extra little sassy bob of his head. He stands his ground with the cold, fierce and commanding presence of someone much older. The way his stance radiates authority, even in the face of danger, is both admirable and comical. The usual slouching and youthfulness of his mannerisms and body language are totally eradicated as the imperious stare he fixes on the bouncers bears down. Gidel is a fearless soldier—a fiercely determined, stalwart pillar in the face of adversity, daring the guards to deny him passage.

"You wound me, good sir," Fellow puts a gloved hand to his heart in a mock sign of hurt. "Of course, he is of drinking age. How insulting!" He levels them with his withering orange gaze. The muscle men shift uneasily at his silent challenge—the cocky facade is his customary tactic for warding off hostilities before they could grow and take root. "This here," he grabs the glowering Gidel, patting the child proudly on the head, "is the eldest of our party." The bouncers look at each other, then at the boy, then back to Fellow. The sheer absurdity of Fellow's statement is undeniable—no reasonable person would buy it.

Fellow goes on. "Cater, are you seeing this shit? Discrimination, in this day and age? Put these nitwits on blast," Fellow gestures to Cater's phone, and Cater begins filming. Gidel points aggressively at the bouncer, shaking his little index finger with the might of his wrath, as Fellow declares loudly, "I want everyone to know—this place is not welcome to those of different social stations, based on age or appearance. This is preposterous!" He turns his attention back to the bouncers, widening his arms to the gathering crowd.

"Bigotry, ageism, it's so awful! No wonder Gidel hides the fact that he's over 2,000 years old. Now I see why the man refuses to share the wisdom he's collected, the amazing anecdotes and experiences, and the undeniable brilliance he could impart upon the world—instead, he hides, ashamed, all due to the abuse he receives on a daily basis from these types of buffoons!"

The surrounding individuals stare in stunned silence. "It's not Gidel who is the child here, but all of you. People should not be judged so harshly due to their appearance. Everyone should be accepted—their ideas, actions, and experiences embraced with respect, despite physical differences that set them apart. Everyone must be loved and appreciated, for there are precious gems everywhere we look in this beautiful world. The rich, diverse community of people who inhabit this planet should be able to share with all, learn from one another and work together in unity, free to be who they are without harassment!"

The neon light catches fresh tears running down various faces in the crowd. To add further insult to the bouncers’ injuries, Royal Sword Academy's Seven Dwarves—who happened to be waiting to get into the same bar—stare daggers at the gatekeepers and gather near Gidel in solidarity. Their angry, diminutive stature radiates powerful force when unified against a common enemy—it is truly a frightening sight to behold.

In one single swoop, Fellow swings public opinion in Gidel’s favor, inciting rage to right the wrong. The fervor of the crowd continues to rise. "Please, show our precious elder the respect he deserves. Do not look at him and see a mere child—look into his eyes to the aged visage beneath." His orange gaze bores into the guards. "Can you not sense his inner radiance, the power and splendor of his soul, and the treasures locked away within? Don't allow your prejudices and expectations to hold him back. Or you, for that matter. The sheer fact of his youthful appearance is no obstacle to greatness! And as long as you carry this narrow-minded sentiment, you will forever be barred from ever knowing the greatest secrets of the universe. Remember, folks! In the end, it isn't your status, money, or popularity that ultimately leads to a better future! It's our kindness, compassion, and tolerance." The conman punctuates his powerful speech with a satisfied swish of his fluffy tail, and the crowd cheers wildly in approval.

Cater is eating this up. His thumbs frantically type out a lengthy post that ends with his signature sparkling diamond hashtags, creating the most glorious online discourse.

Trey is lost in thought, muttering to himself, "he does have the right idea, maybe he'd make a good Headmage after all."

Kalim stares intently, with a faraway gleam in his eye, utterly entranced by Fellow. He’s just about ready to sign up for a personal tutoring session on the topic of the Universal Principles.

The rest of your classmates have the most deadpan expression on their faces, looking at each other and silently communicating how deeply uninterested they all are at witnessing this bizarre, disturbing spectacle for the umpteenth time.

The guards can’t hide their bewilderment, and they reluctantly backpedal to let your group inside. You and Cater share a mischievous smile, impressed at Fellow's antics.

Your devious fox pulls you flush to his body, ushering you into the club with a sly wink. "Shall we, dearest Y/n? Let’s make our debut, hmm?" He smirks in the direction of his brother as he spins you around, all while moving backwards into the bar. He bows deeply and gestures elegantly, indicating you should head inside first. You can't help giggling, covering your mouth to conceal the toothy grin that betrays your giddiness as you make your way inside. His eyes travel up and down your frame, marveling at your swaying hips, devouring every curve. His suggestive tongue wets his bottom lip before he bites it, fangs now visible. You're almost ashamed of how attracted you are to him.

Your classmates follow like ducklings trailing a parent, curious to see where the night will take them and if any of it will be blackmail-worthy. How amusing. They muffle laughter at Fellow's narcissistic flamboyance and over-exaggerated antics, taking note of every ridiculous attempt to woo you. A few pretend to gag, exchanging distressed, strained expressions—a theatrical attempt to shove down the raw, unbridled horror they feel at the thought of having to live through another performance of the clown show.

You're not even sure if he wears a persona—a true entertainer, for the thrill of it all—or if he's trying on sincerity for once. You suspect he's a walking caricature of his own making. Even so, the raw energy and manicured showmanship are alluring. His penchant for high-pitched laughter and dramatized emotion adds levity to an otherwise dark situation—something about it really tickles you. His potentially-feigned amusement lights up his impossibly expressive face in a manner that is genuinely contagious.

Slowly taking in your surroundings, your mouth falls slightly open. This was no ordinary dive bar—this was a full on club. A disco ball hangs from the ceiling, dispersing kaleidoscopic beams of color and light throughout the space. The rhythm throbs, perfectly synced with the strobe—each flash of luminescence reveals a slightly new scene. Sweaty bodies bend and sway to the thumping, seductive beat—you’re so ready to join them. Every face around you morphs into carefree bliss. From behind you, Fellow's presence is electrifying, playfully tracing his fingertips across the curve of your lower back as he leads you to the bar. His hand lightly smacks your ass, as if in approval, and your face warms. The effervescent air and residual excitement of escaping death creates an aphrodisiac unlike anything you’ve experienced. The pulsing bass, Fellow's slightly-territorial hand on your hip, and his sensual gaze makes your heart thump erratically. An aching want—no, need—simmers beneath your skin.

"May I get you a drink?"

Fellow's soft words pull you from your daze, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes appraises your dilated pupils. His toothy grin widens.

"You prefer sweet, don’t you? I know just the thing."

He studies you lasciviously.

"Freshly-squeezed juices and top shelf liqueurs always do the trick. I just love the taste of cherries."

He brings his hand up to your cheek, the pads of his fingers hovering over the shell of your ear before landing around a stray tendril of hair. He twirls the silky strand between his gloved fingers and tucks it gently behind your ear. Tantalizing.

"Yes, please. That sounds delicious."

You giggle nervously, unable to break eye contact. You hadn’t noticed how full his lips were—the bottom pout most inviting. You hope he doesn't notice you gulp.

Somehow, the man's smile grows even bigger. He takes your hand in his, clasping it tightly and bringing it up to his mouth to plant a soft, chaste kiss.

"Wait right here for me, won't you, my dear? I'll be back in a heartbeat."

With a spin, he dances his way through the crowd towards the bartender, expertly navigating the chaos. You stand there dumbfounded, unable to keep the affection from blossoming in your chest; full, red, and so tight that you're afraid it might burst.

Hi, it's me again. Erica. The girl who said "my goal for 2024 is to spend the whole year writing!" Yeah. Sorry about that. Turns out that life sucks and writing is hard. I'm doing my best out here, though. I hope y'all enjoy this one! This shit really makes me laugh, so I hope you laughed too. If you want to create any art based on a scene from this, PLEASE do. I've already started working on chapter 3. I hope it won't take me forever to finish this story but, I'm really just taking my time with it. By "it" I mean, you know, getting to the whole point of this request, which is where Fellow Honest drunkenly confesses to you. But as you can see, we are going on a whole journey, here. I hope you love it! That's why I'm calling it a slice of life. I hope I get to talk to you all again really soon, in my next writing, which I hope... will be... soon. Love you all dearly, ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome. P.S. I'll be at Anime Expo at the beginning of July. Come say hi!

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muenbear · 1 year ago

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Magnet Crush - Kid x Reader

This is a Kid x Reader one shot of him having a crush on the cook of the crew (you :3) Enjoy!! _____________________

The Kid Pirates sailed through the Grand Line under the scorching sun.

You, the cook on this ship for the past two months, worked tirelessly every day to cook hearty meals for the crew. Kid, known for his gruff demeanor and unyielding toughness, often made your job more challenging with his rough demands and brusque orders.

One day, as you navigated the tumultuous kitchen, Kid stormed in, his usual scowl etched across his face. "Oi, cook! How long does it take to make a damn meal? We're not on a luxury cruise here!"

Kid grunted, but he leaned against the doorframe and watched you work for a few minutes. "Be faster, we are starving here! Don't make me find another cookie to replace you!", he stormed off without hearing you silently cursing at him.

"Captain, maybe you should cut her some slack, it's hard to cook such huge portions every day...does take quite a while." Heat says as Kid groans. "Whatever...".

Despite Kid always being annoyed with how slow you are, Kid found himself seeking your company more often, though he'd never admit it and continue to pick on you.

Late at night, when the rest of the crew was asleep, he'd linger in the kitchen, pretending to find some snack but in reality, watching you prep the next day's ingredients in silence. His rough exterior clashed with the unspoken admiration he felt for you.

"Go sleep brat, it's late. You have to wake up tomorrow to be able to cook everything on time" He storms up to you and helps grab the knife and cutting board to start chopping the vegetables you finished washing.

"I need to prep at night to be able to cook the meals on time!" You shout back at him but smile watching him literally help you.

"I'll finish the rest, you're even slow at chopping," he says without looking at you, loudly pounding at the cutting board as he chops.

"Captain...I can be slow but your chopping is...extremely uneven and messy!!" You laughed and Kid turned to you with a slight blush and a glare. "Shut it! Go sleep! Captain's order!"

"Fine, fine, fine! Goodnight captain" You folded up your apron to set aside on the table as you left. You swear you could still hear Kid chopping those poor vegetables for the next 30 minutes.

One evening, as the ship sailed through a sea of stars, Kid found himself standing in the doorway of the kitchen, the metallic arm rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Oi, cook..."

You glanced up, surprised by the rare uncertainty in his tone. "What is it, Captain?"

He shifted uncomfortably, his words stumbling out in a way that was entirely uncharacteristic for him. "Look, I ain't good with this kinda stuff, but... I've been thinking about you... And I... I think..."

He paused, and for a moment, the mighty Captain Kid looked almost vulnerable. The air crackled with tension as he searched for the right words.

"I think I might... have a thing for you. Yeah, that's it. A thing. So, don't get all mushy about it. It's not like I care or anything. But, you know, if you're okay with it or whatever, we can... do something about it."

You couldn't help but smile at the unexpected vulnerability. "Captain, do you mean you like me?" His confession might not have been the most poetic, but for a man of action like him, it was a step out of his comfort zone.

He scowled, trying to regain his composure. "I didn't say that. I think you're cute but I mean....I just have a thing."

You chuckled, closing the gap between you. "Maybe you should stop being so mean to me for a start then!".

He backed up a bit, eyebrows crinkled. "I...I just want your attention is all, I'm not exactly good at being nice you know." He scratched his head. "I just wanted to say I have a thing for you! Ok get back to work now, because the food you make is yummy okay" He stepped toward you to give you a small pat on the head.

You laugh and boldly wrap your arms around him for a quick hug. "Well ok, but later, Captain, if you're up for it, maybe we can figure out this 'thing' together."

Kid huffed, but a rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It seemed that, despite his hard-headed nature, even Captain Kid couldn't resist the magnetic pull of unexpected emotions.

______ Hope you like!^^

#fanfic #anime and manga #manga #anime #one piece #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #kid pirates #kid x reader #oneshot

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still-not-over-transformers · 1 year ago

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@kitgirl91 Request

I lost the original request message but I had a screeenshot :3

Ain’t I Good to You?

(TFA Blitzwing x Female Human Reader)

Warnings: None other than intense simping :3

Word Count: ... 2400+ (I got a tad carried away)

Lingo: “Cher” (pronounced ‘sha’) = Cajun term of affection/endearment

To those unfamiliar, Blitzwing’s 3 personalities are known as Icy, Hothead, & Random

Art courtesy of my beloved requester: @kitgirl91 BEHOLD THE TALENT

Inspiration for this request: The Mask Soundtrack - Susan Boyd - Gee Baby, Ain't I Good To You

The Decepticons had been promptly defeated at the hands of the Autobots, and brought back to Cybertron. Blitzwing was one of said Decepticons to be humiliated by being paraded through the streets of Cybertron as prisoners. But the Triple-changer would shortly make his escape and give the guard the slip, stealing a small ship and setting course for the only planet he knew had no Autobot activity anymore: Earth.

After entering stasis, a few months later Blitzwing would awaken after crash landing on Earth. This time however, Blitzwing would find himself not in New Detroit, but in good old New Orleans, Louisiana. The Decepticon didn’t want to attract too much attention to himself, and immediately searched for a place to hide, and or blend in with. As he still retained his Earth-based alt-modes as a jet or tank, he chose to sneak into a nearby river-side Air Force base. He transformed into his jet-mode as he tried to brainstorm a plan. He would remain there for a few months, having little idea on how to proceed further, and he went into a deep stasis nap. Blitzwing would be slowly awakened one Saturday night to music and an upbeat yet hauntingly beautiful voice. Blitzwing transformed to see a riverboat slowly cruising down the bayou, warm lights illuminating the water as upbeat music echoed across the river, and a sensual and hypnotic voice filled the night. It was a new experience for the Decepticon, and for the first time Blitzwing was silent and listened until the music and that voice faded into the distance.

The following week was uneventful as usual, Blitzwing growing evermore displeased that he lacked a plan. As the afternoon sun sailed across the sky, Blitzwing took note of a female human making their way through the airbase. This human caught his eye, as she was not dressed in the usual military uniforms of the soldiers or mechanics. Being in the back area of the base, and being utterly bored out of his mind, Blitzwing decided to have a bit of fun.

You made your way through an array of various military vehicles and aircrafts, all stunning and huge, dwarfing you easily. The air was growing cooler as an Autumn breeze blew through, making you clutch tighter at your coat. A loud clang rang out to the side and you struggled to see anyone through a lineup of various fighter jets and helicopters. Curiosity got the better of you and you stepped to the side to investigate, “Hello?” A rather large fighter jet was before you, but something was off about it as its coloring did not match any of the other similar models.

Suddenly the jet moved swiftly, lifting upright before transforming completely into a massive winged tan robot. Its face spun around rapidly, settling on a cool bluish face with a red optic and one monocle-like optic, staring down at you expectantly. Despite the shock, you just stood there calmly looking at him.

Blitzwing’s gaze was fixed upon you, raising an optic ridge in curiosity, “You are not afraid, human? How curious you’ve no concern for your own life.” Again, his faceplate spins violently, revealing the black faceplate and scarlet red crazed jack-o-lantern optics and mouth of Random. He cackles in an excited and mildly psychotic tone, “This human is crazy! I like crazy…” Round and round Blitzwing’s faceplate spins, now revealing Hothead, his bright red faceplate and optics glaring down at you. He aggressively moves towards you, his optics obscured by a visor, but the angry expression on his face was easily readable, “Are you working with ze Autobots, human?! That’s why you aren’t cowering in fear, isn’t it!?”

You raise your hands up in a gesture of innocence, hoping to convince the massive robot before you you weren’t any threat, “I have no idea what an ‘Autobot’ is. I’m not really sure what you are to be honest.”

“Why then are you not frightened of me? Do I look like I’d want to be friends with ze likes of you?” Icy said calmly, although in his mind he was genuinely intrigued by the fearless organic before him. Blitzwing’s face spun again, “OOOOOH Maybe we can make friendship bracelets!” Hothead took over and again, he spoke aggressively towards you, “What is a puny human like you even doing walking around in a military airbase?!”

You paused before explaining yourself, “Oh, well I was finishing up details regarding an upcoming job. Going to perform next month here to boost morale for the troops. Had to sign a bit of paperwork regarding my pay.”

The calm Icy took over and raised an optic ridge curiously, “Vat kind of performance?”

“I’m a Jazz singer. Not sure if you’d know what Jazz is, or music… but it’s my profession and most importantly my passion. I’m finally booking more gigs, last weekend was my first time performing on a riverboat. It was magical if I’m honest,” you spoke candidly, finding Blitzwing’s accent to be slightly adorable.

“Vait…” Icy glances over at the nearby river on the other side of the river-side airbase, “Zat was your voice I heard?”

You were taken aback, “You heard me? How long have you been hiding in this airbase?”

“...Long enough. Ze music was… acceptable. And your voice… wasn’t displeasing” Icy said slowly, perhaps giving you a hesitant compliment.

You smiled slightly, finding this strange giant robot to be rather endearing. “You know I will be performing this evening at “The Cat’s Meow” Jazz Club. It’s an outdoor venue, so you’re welcome to come if you’d like.” You extend your hand towards Blitzwing, a silver ticket stub in your grasp.

Icy took a pause, considering whether or not to accept the ticket, before Random took over and eagerly snatched the ticket from your hands. “How could ve refuse such an offer!” he chuckled excitedly.

You stepped back briefly as the ticket was taken from your hands, but you couldn’t help but smile, “I can see you aren’t one to pass a good time up. I should probably be on my way and get ready for the show. You know, I didn’t catch your name, cher?”

The Decepticon was shocked at how calm and comfortable you were around him, after all he was a battle-hardened warrior, killer and a giant robot, yet you showed him such courtesy as if he were just another human. “Oh… Blitzwing…” he replied hesitantly, feeling almost compelled to tell you.

“Well Blitzwing, if anyone gives you trouble at the door, cher, just tell them you’re a guest of (Y/N)” you flashed a sincere but slightly coy smile at the Decepticon before giving him a friendly wave of your hand and making your way off of the military base.

Blitzwing stood there in silent shock as you left, leaving him burning with multiple questions. “Cher? This word is strange” Icy pondered, a servo on his chin. His faceplate spun and Random took over, “Perhaps it’s a human word for cute!” Icy presented himself once more, staring at the ticket in his servo, your invitation still standing. He could just crush the ticket and be done withy it, but there was something about you…

Night fell on New Orleans, and the city came alive with lights, and hundreds of people flocking to the streets to enjoy various events and libations. High in the sky, Blitzwing hovered in jet-mode above the outdoor venue of “The Cat’s Meow.” After a bit of convincing himself, Blitzwing found the courage to land and enter the Jazz club. The bouncer at the door was definitely not expecting a Decepticon to attempt entry to the club, but he stood his ground and sweatily asked to see a ticket.

Usually, it would be Blitzwing’s instinct to blast the human into smithereens, but that would undoubtedly sour the mood for the evening. Instead he presented his silver ticket and spoke, “I am here upon ze request of (Y/N).” The doorman accepted the ticket hesitantly, before allowing the Decepticon entry into the club, but directing him to enter around to the outdoor section to spare the roof.

After making his way around, Blitzwing entered the outdoor space, which was an array of various tables covered in rich red linens. The area was illuminated by various lights wrapped around trellises and trees, a wooden stage centered at the back, the musicians settling into their positions. Blitzwing looked down at the table below him, awkwardly lowering himself into a sitting position behind the table, his massive frame still towering above it. Blitzwing couldn’t help but feel foolish being here to see a human perform, and it took hours of self-convincing earlier in order to get his aft here.

“I have no idea how I talked myself into this…” Icy grumbled, his arms crossed. “PLEASE! This is not ze craziest thing we’ve done by far!” Random cackled before going silent as the lights dimmed, leaving one blinding spotlight on center stage.

There you were, standing in the blinding glow of the spotlight. Your hair was down, but a delicate headpiece of beaded pearls adorned your forehead. Your dress was an ebony color, with a sensual sweetheart neckline and a short hem lined with glittering beads that cascaded from the hem. The ebony color was accentuated by the sparkle of thousands of tiny sequins, which reflected the spotlight and made you shimmer. You turned towards the band members behind you and gave them a nod, cueing them to begin playing a smooth yet upbeat Jazz number, the mood set by the sound of trumpets and a piano. You slowly took hold of the microphone and began singing, your voice sultry and alluring.

Blitzwing’s optics widened to a point where they nearly burst out of his skull, and his jaw unhinged and was wide open as he struggled to process how stunning you were. This was the same human he met at the airbase? Your voice, your lips, your legs, that dress were all enough to nearly fry his processor circuitry and drive him wild. His faceplate was spinning between all three personalities, each one absolutely shaken by everything about you.

“She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen…” Icy gawked, short of words.

“IT IS LIKE BEING GRACED WITH ZE PRESENCE OF AN ANGEL!” Hothead exclaimed, looking like he wanted to break something.

Random’s glossa was hanging out of his mouth, completely drunk off of your beautiful body and hypnotic voice.

The song continued, and you began to move around the stage, your hips moving in time with the beat. You dipped down to the ground, before slowly standing up, swishing your hips and waist as you ascended.

This sent Blitzwing over the edge, and Random loudly whistled at you, having quickly become a complete simp. Hearing the cat call, you turned your attention to see the Decepticon at his table. Continuing your set, you smiled in his direction before pointing to him and blowing a kiss.

Random took over and stood up, whistling even louder in adoration and worship of you, “Keep it UP BABY!”

The song slowly came to its final portion, albeit to Blitzwing’s dismay as he wanted this to go on forever. With a final breath, the last lyrics left your painted lips and the song concluded. The resounding sound of applause filled the club, the loudest clapping being from Blitzwing’s massive metal servos. As the rest of the club patrons applauded your performance, Blitzwing’s sharp optics spotted one human patron who wasn’t participating.

Hothead’s face spun around, steam visibly leaving his nostrils as he stomped over to the unsuspecting patron, startling the man, “YOU’D BETTER START CLAPPING BEFORE I MAKE YOUR INSIDES YOUR OUTSIDES!” The unsuspecting critic nearly jumped out of his skin and began clapping for his life.

As the cheers continued, audience members began tossing flowers onto the stage. Icy took note of this and began formulating a plan.

After you had made your way back to your dressing room, there was a firm knock at the door. Out of curiosity, you opened it to see who it was, only to be pleasantly surprised to see a certain Decepticon gazing back at you.

Blitzwing was blushing madly, especially being so close to you when you looked so beautiful. He cleared his throat, his faceplate spinning to Icy, trying to get the courage to speak to you. “Your show was… more than words than express. You are ze most talented and beautiful thing I have laid optics on. I got something for you” his voice was oddly shaky. He knelt down and revealed a massive bundle of roses and vines from behind his back, the flowers taking up a quarter of your dressing room. “I saw flowers are a sign of worship, so I brought you all ze flowers from the garden.”

You were stunned by the gift, it being obvious that Blitzwing had removed the roses from the nearby trellises. You tried to stifle a laugh and flashed the biggest grin, “That is mighty sweet of you, cher. To think you actually came to see me and shower me with so much praise.”

“You are a GORGEOUS LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. I WILL BREAK DOWN MOUNTAINS FOR YOU!” Hothead expressed passionately.

“Oh my…” you giggled, “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” You stepped closer to the massive Decepticon before you, closing the distance. “For being so sweet, I think you deserve a little something as well,” your voice was charismatic and smooth. You leaned in closer to his faceplate, and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

His faceplate spun around and around and around… for what seemed like an eternity. An excited and loud laugh escaped from Blitzwing’s mouth, Random’s optics wide and his spark beating rapidly. So many thoughts and feelings flashed through his processor that he felt he might explode, “I FEEL LIKE I’VE FLOWN TO ZE MOON AND BACK!” His optics turn back towards you and he suddenly calms himself, maybe a little worried he might frighten you. His faceplate reverts back to Icy and he clears his throat, “...ahem.. My apologies, sometimes I get carried away.”

Your smile widened, finding his antics to be endearing. “Don’t sweat it, cher. You’re more than welcome to come to any of my shows in the future,” you spoke softly. “Now why don’t you and I get out of here. Maybe let me show you around town?”

Blitzwing was in absolute awe. You, this tiny human female stealing every one of Blitzwing’s sparks.

Of course he took you up on your offer.

*END*

I had WAY too much fun with this request. :3 I pray it was worth the wait!

#transformers #transformers animated #transformers animated blitzwing #tfa blitzwing #tfa blitzwing x reader #tfa #transformers reader insert #transformers x reader #transformers x reader insert #transformers oneshot #transformers animated insert #tfa reader insert #blitzwing #transformers blitzwing #jazz

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my-pjo-stuff · 4 months ago

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I love how this fandoms seems to call Nico our resident Emo Boy (tm) when Luke is like, RIGHT THERE. Homeboy really had a whole thing where he betrayed his home and stole a cruise ship all while having a sword named BACKBITER. He leads a monster army rebelling against the system while sceeming with some old primordial GOD. Pretty sure that it was canonically said that he wears ALL BLACK throughout the books. I hate to break it to y'all, but Nico ain't the Resident Emo (tm), Luke is.

#pjo #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan apologist #pjo fandom #pro luke castellan

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bigassbowlingballhead · 1 month ago

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can't even make it one week past the ody3some without discourse starting? it ain't that deep it's a silly little cruise ship show

#can't say i'm surprised given the number of 911 folks who've added it to the roster #which great more people watching less likely to get cancelled #but for fucks sake

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dustcrumbs · 1 month ago

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Mermaid au thoughts, I'm running out now, so probably the last one:

Killer pulls on Cross's arm when wants to go somewhere, since Cross is the easiest to travel with

Horror and Dust like to go into the kelp forest, it's not as bright, but still outside, perfect for Horror, Dust is there because, well, we all know

Cross likes to sit as close to the surface as possible

When Nightmare swims around, his right side is more stiff from an injury

- @largefoundation

awe, Cross has to be on the lookout and a guide for Killer. He'd have to avoid boats and other dolphins or whales. this was from a roleplay but Killer and Cross swam into a sunk Disney cruise ship and stole clothes to match with one another gehhhe.

And OFC Dust would be there. If Horrors there, Dusts either right beside him or not too far in the back. But that's probably a safe place for Horror. A little place for him to rest and find comfort in the dark. Sure, its nice to see other mer's but its less overwhelming. And Nightmare. Hopefully the injury ain't too detrimental.

#largefound #lovely moots 💕

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papabearbobbynash · 7 months ago

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No but, the usual ifinale meltdown ritual that this fandom has since S5 is so funny because it brings some of the most ridiculous ans hilarious stuff, where we can see its simply anger talking.

I'm legit watching some say "oh the writers should stop rushing to finish an story line" which is a really valid poiny, but then it comes from the same who will absolutely complain and be insufferable because the writers are spending more than 2 episode on characters that aren't their absolute fav or that they are least interested.

In fact we had examples of it in the latest 2 seasons. Buck in S6 being given so many storylines and people only began to complain fr around S6B because the writing was fumbling already.

Then we had people absolutely dying due the cruise ship length and then being faced with more focus on Bobby this season.

The problem ain't if the writers spend too much time or too short time on a storyline, because the fandom is diverse and their interests are diverse. An storyline can be great and still not satisfies someone solely because that is not what the person is invested or interested to watch.

The problem here is writing so poorly to a point your own audience starts to question if the people in charge of the writing even knows the characters or the audience they're writing for.

#911 spoilers #911 abc #opinion

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deanisridingapolarbear-blog · 7 months ago

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Yesterday I saw a post that had some theory about Tommy and captain Gerrard being in kahoots to bring 118 down or something like that. And wanted or not I got a bit worried that being the thing too. I first tried to calm myself down with the fact that would be quite elaborate plan and down to the chance of being part of the cruise ship rescue and now I got another reason why that defo ain't the case. Because if Tommy was part of some weird plan to bring 118 down...why on earth would he have skipped the second half of the 1st date with Buck and gotten turned off by the stuff Buck said to Eddie in the restaurant. He wouldn't have left it to a chance of Buck trying to call him back but just gone like "oh no worries at all I get you're not ready" etc.

#saying all this to calm others like myself down #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #9 1 1 on abc #9-1-1 spoilers

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cat-mermaid · 5 months ago

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Every now and then I go gee I wish they'd make another LET IT DIE game and then I fucking remember that OH YEAH-

-this fucking thing that came out, I played the beta and everything!

It was one of the fucking hundreds of battle royal "live services" games between 2022-2023 that came out and were fucking killed months after release because they weren't instantly successes

this game reeks of the directors really didn't want to make this but sony leaned on them hard stink

Its such a bizarre decision to do this with the series, LET IT DIE has this awesome punk heavy metal black humor style to it:

but then for DEATHVERSE they (Sony) wanted the L.I.D team to make a battle royal to compete with Fortnight(duh) so instead of the awesome dark flavor, they made it look like some kinda steam punk Rocketeer future world????

Look and how bright and clean and friendly this looks, would you have believed this was supposed to be set in the same game series if I ain't told you at the start?

But the biggest failure of the whole thing is the absolutely baffling decision to replace the beloved mascot of the series, Uncle Death, whom everyone fucking loves-

.... with this floating ball that speaks in a text-to-speech robot voice:

Its not even about not being able to get the Japanese/English VAs back, its like the creators were too ashamed to have Uncle Death in this shit show

did I mention I played the beta? I played that and this while it was briefly out and it controlled like SHIT. LID had tight snappy controls and this played like I was trying to steer a fucking cruise ship

I played this thing, I gave it money, because I wanted it to succeed so I could get a real LID sequel

After half a year they said fuck it because no one was playing, claimed they were taking it down to "rework it" and then killed it. Now they've announced that they're building a new game from the ground up:

this is the only concept art they've shown, still too bright for my taste but it is just an early concept.

Honestly if it has my silly skeleton man back I'll be happy with whatever

#let it die #deathverse #uncle death #battle royale #sony #ps4 #playstation 4 #fortnite #canceled games

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cr0g-0 · 2 years ago

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Yall on the topic of titanic oceangate bullshut(as usually Imm not one discussing things like this)

And before anyone reads and yells at me in the tags or reblogs-I know that they are upper class rich people but this take on this event is more so a question as to why the fuck are people hoping people die for spending money. People go on vactions for plenty of money that they could put to charity yet I haven't seen one person say I hope that family dies cause they spent 2k on a Cruise cause they wanted to spend time together.

The people their may have spent 250k to go on that trip but somepeople have the money to do things they want? I get it- they should obviosuly seen the flaws in the submersible and been smarter but saying rhey all deserve to die what will be a likely horrible death in a small, claustrophobic tube is not alright!

Most people will say they'd donate money they win in a lottery. But people are people and unless they have a very good reason to do something they probably won't do it.

Also-people spend thousands of dollars to go on vactions and cruises to enjoy themselves or spend time with family. It may not be as much money as this cluster fuck but god how would you feel if you got rescued and found people wanted you to die? Their is a teenager on that submersible that most likely uses social media a lot more than the other people-if any of them live how do you think that'll affect them?

They may be 5 rich people who spent 250k on this trip and their is an immigrant ship off the coast of Greece that sank and only 105 people as of now lived

But they're all still people? How can you shame the world for not paying attention to a tragedy off the Grecian coast and then simultaneously root for 5 people to die in a submarine simply because they spent money to go do something. The company ain't cheap and some people might be intrested from a purely historical standpoint

It's like watching a documentry about a serial killer and hoping he goes and murders 5 people because you want them to die for being stupid and spending money.

Money is dumb. I'll never not think that. Its stupid people need it to live and for those who don't have the money they need to live I'm sorry and I hope you will get the help you need to stay on your feet.

But to the people who don't have money troubles and are hoping these 5 people get the 'karma they deserve'

How would you feel if you were on this submersible? You'd probably be hoping that people were looking for you or were worried. You'd hope people would be in your corner.

People if you don't know the many ways they could or will die in that thing I implore you to research those so you can tell me your hoping they all suffocate slowly in that cramped fucking vessel. That you hope if it hasn't, that it depressurizes right now.

Loss of human life is awful. Some people deserve death, especially those who have fucked over others.

But god these people don't deserve to die thousands of feet below the water,not getting to say a final goodbye or i love you to their families.

Because if you were going to die wouldn't you want to say goodbye to your loved ones? Wouldnmt you want to tell them you loved them one last time? Probably.

Not a lot of people are afforded that much but everyone deserve that. Even if they don't get it they don't deserve to not say goodbye.

I sincerely hope these people get found and I hope the accident in Greece gets coverage world wide. I hope more people get found from that.

Just please stop hoping these people die. Because all that does is show me you don't care if people never see their families again. You can hate rich people-go ahead. Just please be respectful about this. Their are plenty of rich people to hate that are not in a horrible submersible with 40 hours of oxygen left. If they get out alive? Go ahead hate them for being rich. At least then they could see their families again and tell them they love them and tell them goodbyes

#smog ramble #titanic #oceangate #serious stuff #tw death

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calkale · 5 months ago

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YOUVE HAD HANGY FAM OCS THIS WHOLE TIME AND NEVER SHARED WITH THE REST OF THE CLASS???

Or u did and I just didn’t see OOF-

Pls spill I want lore!!! Tell us about the lil guy’s family!! And his Mom!!!!

i did post about it its just no one saw or read the post 💀 (there are so many spelling mistakes btw my bad)

Theres some in there but I have a whole backstory for him and his family, idk if i wanna just write it out cause i like dropping little things in fics. i wanna draw jakes family too ik exactly what they all look like and i kinda based payton and his mom off some people i used to know. i also have this post which less people saw 💀💀 but i have a whole story about him getting is only air to air kill too

#dont worry about not seeing it its seems people rarely see my posts when theyre something i put a lot of work into thats not art 😁👍#i love fandom posting #jake hangman seresin #calkaleasks

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malleleothreesome · 1 year ago

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smirk emoji…. can we see a snippet of whichever wip is gripping you most rn 🫣🫶 IM EYEING ALL OF THEM LIKE HEY…. grabby hands

Referencing this post

Um, idk if this classifies as a "snippet" 🤪 but, I swear, this is only a small portion of what I have written...

This is the start of 'Fellow Honest Drunken Confession' (WIP, subject to change. SFW, swearing, gn reader)

To the people who voted on my poll for me to post the Leona/Malleus/Reader love triangle early, this isn't the content you voted for, but hopefully this might hold you over???

Fellow Honest let out an exasperated sigh, standing next to you and your classmates as the massive cruise ship that housed Playfulland amusement park sinks into the abyss of the ocean. His hands are clasped behind his head, and a carefree grin lights up his face. "You know what?" He asks, turning to you. His fox ears twitch atop his head as a salty breeze stirs his orange hair. The night has begun to encroach, a half moon hangs suspended in the starry sky like a pale glowing lamp above the dark waters of the ocean. You stare back into his face, noting his fangs poking out as the tip of his curly orange tail swishes happily. Fellow winks as he laughs his signature haughty cackle. He opens his mouth to speak. "Do you want to grab a drink sometime?"

Ace Trappola perks right up at the mention of alcohol and barrels forward, face beaming and completely missing Fellow's lascivious intent towards you. "Hey, free drinks? You're talking to the right person, man. Hell yeah, let's do it, you're gonna let us drink free? I mean, it's like, the least you could do for trying to human traffic us, am I right?" He does an excited fist-pumping action as Trey Clover trails in his wake, attempting to shush him to no avail, calling, "Ace!" in a desperate hiss. Fellow regards the spectacle with the most blank stare, his ear flicking as a tiny, unnoticed wince of annoyance flickers across his visage.

The monster of a man tilts his head and smiles slyly to you and only you, his eyes sweeping you with interest, "Just you and me, hotstuff. We're talking romantic and steamy. We've got a connection, don't deny it. So. Whaddaya say?" Fellow steps closer, tongue running along his canines as he looks you up and down with a cheeky grin and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "You and me, alone together, drinking, talking... I'll be real good to you—I'm an honest guy! All my business is legit now!" he throws his head back with a flourish of his arms, roaring with raucous laughter. After a second, he composes himself, his piercing orange eyes turning sharp as he flashes another lecherous look in your direction. With a slight smirk on the corner of his lips and a suggestive raise of his eyebrow, Fellow leans to whisper in your ear, lingering in the electricity of your aura a bit too long before speaking, making you shiver. His voice drops to a low, suggestive purr as his hot breath grazes your neck, "But, if you like, a little bit naughty ain't out of the question... "

Before you can respond, Ace—unable to be subdued by Trey—makes his way back over and elbows you in the arm. Just as clueless as ever, his freckled cheeks are flushed bright pink from excitement, and you swear he's bouncing with happiness on his toes as he hollers with unbridled hype for the evening ahead, "Free drinks, bro! He's an underworld mobster, dude—a high ranking one—we'll have the VIP treatment if he decides to take us out. Taste of that top shelf, not some gross, warm piss from a barrel they serve everyone else, only the best!" Ace says all this while gripping his heart and fake swooning, holding out his arms in an exaggerated gesture, leaning on your shoulder. "Free top shelf liquor!" Ace shouts to the rest of your classmates gathered around in small groups, waving them all over.

Fellow's eyebrow raises further upward until it threatens to leave the confines of his forehead, a dead look in his orange eyes. His tail doesn't twitch—it stays perfectly still, frozen in an upright arch. When his lips part in a rigid smile and his shoulders begin to shake, the absolute venomous displeasure that radiates off the poor fox is palpable enough that you can practically feel it soaking into your skin. For a minute, all that comes out of his mouth is a jumble of fragmented curse words mixed with giggles. You look over at him in mild alarm, unsure if he has finally reached a state of losing his goddamn mind or if he's about to violently lash out and murder Ace and everyone in attendance on sight.

Fellow holds up both gloved palms, almost covering his whole face as he slowly shakes his head and doubles over, guffawing uproariously and wiping away tears of hysterical mirth from his eyes, tail swishing from side to side again. You are stunned, staring as Fellow wheezes and struggles to get ahold of his faculties. Catching his breath, his eyes bulge and he bellows to the sky with unrestrained joy, throwing his head back, ears flying and pointing upwards, his hat almost tumbling off as his body quakes and his lungs struggle, "The sheer audacity! The unmitigated gumption of this fool—"

"Oh my GOD," he continues to snigger with laughter, almost out of control as his nose crinkles. Before long, he descends into violent snorts, then coughing as his breaths go askew and come short. In a valiant effort to calm himself, he holds up his hands, as if praying, a wicked grin plastered across his face. All Ace does is squint suspiciously at his antics, totally clueless to Fellow's intent. Trey shakes his head slowly, rubbing his face in abject defeat, looking as if he's willing his brain to purge the trauma of ever coming to this place. Fellow makes a poor attempt to control himself, breathing deeply, "Sorry, sorry, it's just funny, oh my God. Wow. He has some balls on him, I'll give him that! I really admire the gall. You know what? This brat might have a career in the biz, I'm serious." The fox beastman reaches out and ruffles Ace's head of red hair like he's some kid, chortling.

He is shaking his head and wearing a very impressed look as his fingers caress his chin pensively, lost in thought, unable to maintain eye contact as he's on the verge of losing his composure again. "Alright, tough guy. Yeah, let's go get boozed. And hey, little bastard," His fiendish grin takes a more sinister tone, fangs exposed as he tilts his head in a cocky way. "Just so you know, if your pathetic college didn't send that sweetheart of a cutie,” he winks suggestively at you, his tail giving a little twitch, before his eyes wander across the crowd of students, obviously unimpressed by your entire class, sneering, “I'd never be letting any of you idiots go. No way! I would have dragged each of you back to my boss by force. Don't test my generosity or my kindness." He shoves his finger into Ace's face, leaning towards him intimidatingly, but the smirk of delight stays on Fellow's face despite his posturing. He's clearly getting a huge kick out of trying to spook and intimidate Ace, who thinks he's some scary, powerful crime lord.

Fellow takes a sharp inhale and clasps his hands shut as he addresses the group, "Now, just for fun, let's get liquored up on the highest rooftop bar, play some poker, do a little dancing..." his eyes flit back over to you, "Maybe some smooches, hey?" A fox yip punctuates his sentence. His eyes return back to Ace, whose lips press in a firm, annoyed line, frowning at the con man. Fellow's eyebrow twitches with incredulous humor as he takes in Ace's defiance, biting his lip for a second as if trying not to give in to another peal of cackling. "There isn't going to be any 'VIP treatment', no 'free drinks', and definitely no 'top shelf', is that clear? Who do you think I am? You think I like doing that type of shit?" he points to the water, gesturing to the decimated remnants of the amusement park. "I'll let you in on a little secret, kid, people don't do those types of jobs because they're loaded.” He leans down to get eye level with Ace, using expressive jazz hands as he puts on a pompous voice, “'Oh, man, my yacht's all paid off and ready, better become a goddamn kidnapping organ trafficker—the glamour! The luxury!' Do you understand what I'm saying, you dinky little shit?"

#Fellow Honest #‧͙+ ̊*・༓☾ Erica Answers ☽༓・* ̊+‧͙#i can't believe im showing this many of my cards but #im proud of this one #i close my eyes and press 'post now'#😳

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