#it’s warm and homey and just…comfy
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peachsukii · 1 month ago
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Mr. Peach and I are cleaning up the garden today because of the nice weather (and my headache is finally full enough for me to exist again), and I can’t stop thinking about an AU of reishima (no Bakugo? Am I sick?) as farm hands on a family farm.
It’s a farm that I inherit from my family, left from my mother’s side to care for once they move out of the farm house and into a smaller home. I’m free to decorate the entire place, take care of all the animals I’ve bonded with, and live peacefully under the sun. Bakugo’s a childhood turned best friend, someone who always swings by to help me on days where it’s a little too much to take care of everything. He still lives down the road from the farm all these years later.
Kirishima comes to town sometime in our mid to late 20s. It’s a meet cute of sorts, a new local market opened downtown and he happens to help run his family vegetable stand there. Over time, we get to talking more and more until he comes to visit the farm one day. I cook him dinner, show him all the animals and reminisce over the childhood I had growing up on the farm. A little while later, I introduce him to Bakugo, who instantly hits it off with him, too.
It just sounds so nice. 🥺
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tittysuckersworld · 6 months ago
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pinning so its seen-
sorry for not being as mentally ill on here/posting as much art/finnishing the peices i promised- i sadly have gotten myself a life for the next few weeks and am dieging. please send curses and blights my way so i can stop existing-
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goldenguillotines · 2 years ago
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I just wanna say.. I gotta give a shout out to my orange and red characters.. yall really the funniest guys to stare at
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teddybeartoji · 1 year ago
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toji loves listening to you ramble. i really think he does. he finds your voice so soothing, so comforting, no matter whatever the fuck you're actually talking about. he's lazing on the coach at home while you're out running some errands and ranting about how stupid people can be over the phone. he laughs quietly to himself, very amused by your annoyed tone. but he loves it. he wants to hear what you've bought, where you've been, what you've eaten, where you're going next. he loves hearing you talk to the barista, never ending the call with him. he listens to you order a sweet little beverage and he's smiling, happy about the fact that you're having a good time.
he can't wait until you come home though. he already knows you're going to step inside and immediately hit him with another ramble as if you weren't just on the phone with him. he watches you kick off your shoes and remove your coat, he watches you place your bags onto the table before making your way over to him. you give him a big toothy grin and he doesn't even have time to respond because you're already falling flat on him. folding your hands on his chest, you rest your chin on top of them - staring at your boyfriend at an uncanny angle. his big arms curl around your middle and now you truly feel at home.
"arytiredfmyet?"
he rumbles a chuckle from beneath you and pinches your side, reveling in the little squeak you let out. "ya gotta speak louder than that, sweetheart."
with an eye-roll, you grumble back. "i asked whether you're tired of me yet..."
he looks so terribly comfy. and homey. and he smells so fucking good. you've never seen a boyfriend look so boyfriend. he's warm and he's looking at you with the softest eyes, despite the little smug grin that's creeping on his lips.
"ya got more for me?"
"i'm afraid so. awful, just awful things happened on the bus." you nod your head, eyes big - emphasizing your words like you almost died on your way back home and his insides feel extremely gooey. you're so close and you're warm, too. he can feel your heartbeat pounding directly above his own, the touch is just right. he knows you're tired; you've had a long day but you're still so set on talking his ears off and he loves you.
his scarred hands knead the skin of your waist. he looks like a big domesticated wolf. you want to scratch his ears. you surpress your desire to tell him that though. his lips stretch into a proper smile and your stomach fills with butterflies.
"can't wait to hear all about it, sweetheart."
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werecreature-addicted · 1 year ago
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Wolfie bf taking care and providing for you while you live together in a cabin in the woods while you make food for him and make the place more homey ✨ him coming home to a warm meal and kisses and being so happy that he fucks your brains out by the fireplace and then you fall asleep in his arms with the background noise of the rain 🥹
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God, literally the dream. Imagine living deep in the lush woods, in a homey cozy cabin you can spruce up however you like. Your werewolf lover likes to see your style reflected in your shared home. He's never really felt "lonely" living alone but the house feels more like a home, he can't imagine life any other way. You're pretty happy too, obviously, who wouldn't be with such a big tough monster to come home to every day?
He loves to sneak up behind you when you're cooking and pull you away from the kitchen or at least up onto the kitchen counter. shhh, dinner can wait he's not that hungry anyway- he wants his welcome home kisses.
it's hard to deny him because you want to kiss him, but you know that he's too greedy to settle for just one kiss. you know that if you give him more than a peck his big hands will slip to your waist, and push down your pants. He's had a long day and just wants to bury his wolf tongue deep inside of you, how can you complain about that?
You convince him to at least take you to the living room to eat you out and keep the counters clean. He always makes a mess when he eats you, not stopping until you're making a mess squirting on his face.
he breathes heavily, licking his lips as he looks down at your throbbing pussy. you can see his hard cock straining, begging for attention. "need to be in you," he whimpers, as he slowly glides his hard cock over your pussy.
"fuck me," you invite, and he does.
The two of you stay curled in each other's arms lying on the rug in front of the fireplace. you feel his knot go down but he doesn't pull away, you don't ask him to either. it's nice like this, wrapped in your werewolf's big arms, comfy in your perfect little home.
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pinkmirth · 1 year ago
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⸻ 𝑃ℛℰ𝒮ℰℛ𝒱ℰ!
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𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ the belmont family has endured for centuries, and it’s now up to richter to keep it going strong. there’s only one way to ensure the expansion of his bloodline, and it’s simple; knocking you up.
𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 6k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader, canon-divergent, set in the 18th century (1700s), nsfw/smut, porn with very little plot, established relationship, size difference, nipple play, handjob, panty-ripping, p-in-v, heavy breeding kink, many mentions of pregnancy, missionary, tummy bulge, lotus position, creampies, richie’s a bit cocky (when is he not!), use of pet names (e.g. darling, love, good girl, rich, richie . . .), richter calls reader a ‘ cockslut ’ once, explicit language, lowercase intended, black coded, minors shoo!
𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ after binging castlevania (nocturne), i instantly fell for that gorgeous man richter & his baby blue eyes ><  he’s got a sharp mouth, a pretty face, and nice biceps– of course i’m in love with him! i just had to whip up somethin’ for my favorite belmont (dunno why, but i heavily believe their clan is crazy about breeding hmm) this was supposed to be an itty bitty drabble, but it ended up much longer than i thought it’d be . . . and might i warn you that this is mostly just sappy, nasty filth. now, please enjoy this smutty piece of work for richie! ❤︎
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richter has made the renard household your favorite place on earth. more specifically, you’re fond of his homey bedroom. it’s got this olde charm to it, and a wide glass window with french-pinewood framing; one that offers a pleasant view of the grassy fields and neighboring stream that surround the cottage. 
over anything else, his bed is surely the best part of it all. there’s a fluffy duvet in that dusty-blue color he likes, one so large that it covers his long legs even when they tangle between yours. the quilted mattress has just the right amount of space for two lovers, and is comfy enough to keep you warm throughout the night, considering the chance you might stay over. 
though, there is a downside, as nothing can be perfect— it creaks far too much when he fucks you. 
it’s not often that the both of you can make good use of that bed of his, especially when the noise makes things terribly obvious. you wouldn’t dare attempt anything improper in richter’s room with his adoptive family just a brief set of steps away. 
there's a time for everything, but not that he cares. you try paying no mind to richter’s lingering touches along your waist, and how he mischievously dives underneath your bottoms to grab at the fat of your ass with a wicked grin; all as his aunt tera boils porridge and beans by the stovetop downstairs. you’re sure he finds joy in the risk, or more in provoking you. 
it’s only when the house is empty, apart from you and richter and nothing else, that you can have your fun. like now, for instance. it’s out of pure luck that tera decided to pay a visit to the farmer’s market, and for maria to tag along with her mother as well. they mentioned something about wanting to buy the best of what the early-autumn harvest had to offer, with the meats being juiciest and the produce fresher than it’s been all year. 
you believe that’s why richter’s got so much stamina— the plenty of food he’s been scarfing down lately. or, possibly, it could just be him . . . nothing but him, and his unexplainable belmont genes that make him fucking superhuman. he swears he’s normal, but the way he picks you up with such ease as soon as his family steps out the door can only be deemed as unnatural. 
he's quick to sweep you off your feet, in the most abrupt way he can, of course. richter grins over the way you squeal as he whisks you past the kitchen, ‘round the table, and down the corridor. his hands work at keeping you upright, palms firmly planted under your thighs. he carries your weight like that of a feather and doesn't break a sweat. but considering where he’s headed, straight to his bedroom, that’ll soon change. 
“don’t go getting all surprised on me,” richter voices a lighthearted whisper. he kisses the part of your neck that he can manage to reach from above the collar of your blouse, “you know what we do once we have the place to ourselves.” 
“you snatched me off the ground without notice, i’ve all the right to be surprised— ohmygod, richter!” you sputter out a laugh, with his mouth on your flesh being so ticklish. you can feel his lips curving upwards, taking the shape of a smile. your arms fling around the back of his neck like second nature, fingers carding through his fluffy brunette hair. with zero patience, as always, richter kicks the door in with the shallow heel of his leather thigh-boot, slips into the room with you still in his arms, and shuts it closed by pressing you up against it. 
he was right about one thing— once tera and maria leave, this is exactly how it goes. clothes are torn off with haste (mostly on richter’s end, as you could imagine), heated kisses are exchanged, and he spits the nastiest words with that sharp mouth of his in order  to get you all worked up. the night sky and moonshine from the window gives his room this subtle tone of blue, but he makes you feel red-hot. 
richter keeps you right where he wants you; held up by his unfiltered strength, with your back to the door. one moment, he’s drawing closer to you, raking over every detail of your face with nothing but admiration swirling in his eyes. by the next, his lips are moving languidly against yours, slightly unruly yet undeniably passionate. you wouldn’t dare admit how much of a damn good kisser he is. the man’s ego would fucking skyrocket.
though, you really don’t have to tell him anything. the way you reciprocate his affection says it all. he breaks away for a sparing moment, but not before bringing his tongue across your bottom lip in one playful swipe. it’s light, teasing, and completely of his nature.
“i can see it in your eyes, y’know.” richter chuckles at how you lean forward to chase after the warmth of his lips again. he brings you to your feet so he can slip off his fingerless gloves and undo any harnesses. he then crouches a bit to unzip his boots. 
“see what?” you airily huff, haphazardly undoing button by button on your blouse until it’s completely open. similarly, he begins to make quick work of his top. you enjoy the flexure of his biceps as he pulls them out from the sleeves of his cerulean blue blazer-vest that he drops once free of, allowing it to scatter to the ground. you catch onto its emblem; the belmont crest, neatly embroidered upon the breast-pocket. 
“how much you want this,” richter peers down at you, eyes gleaming the prettiest tint of blue. “it’s cute, how obvious you are.” his upper half is bare, and the smooth canvas of his chest is all can focus on while he closes in on you. you’re trapped between the sturdy door and his heated body, and you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 
“you’re practically salivating over the thought of getting fucked, yeah? bet you wouldn’t mind if i took you right here.” he grins as he says it, staring unashamedly at how cleavage pools from your brassiere. richter creeps a finger underneath the strap, tugs it down and does the same with the other, dipping his head low to pepper your bare shoulder with feather-light pecks. before long, the bra’s at your feet. 
“hm, but you’re no different,” you manage out, reveling in the warm lashing of his tongue against your nipple. it buds up the more he suckles at it.
“really, now?” he eventually parts from your breasts and rises back up to his full imposing height, carrying that faint smirk he forever wears. he looks so adorable this way— cheeks pink, lips spit-streaked. richter takes hold of your bottoms from either side of you, and swiftly brings them down with what you could only call pure impatience. 
“yes, really. you’re just as desperate,” you counter him, reaching low to prove it. your palm grazes his bulge, and you give a few thorough squeezes; the kind that makes his mouth drop open. 
“look at you, almost bursting out of your pants,” you quietly giggle, gazing up at him through the wisps of your lashes. richter wonders how you make such light fun while using your touch to undo him all at once. his breathing quickens, and it gets just a little heavier with your every attempt to caress his throbbing cock through his trousers. “seems like you need it more than i do, doesn’t it?” 
“oh, fuck me . . .” richter whines, settling his head into the slope of your shoulder. your touch leaves him, just for a moment, to rid him of those restrictive pants. his cock springs free from its confines and bobs under its own weight. he’s got more length than girth; a good six or seven in size, with two thick veins running along the underside of him. the faint-pink tip prods at your thigh, staining your skin with precum. 
he bucks against you hungrily, fingertips digging into the seams of your panties. you think you can hear them splintering apart. in the heat of things, he always winds up tearing your good underwear. 
richter could ease into this moment and let your hand work him senseless, but there comes a time where he decides to end the charade. there’s also no knowing when his aunt and sister will return. he wants to make the most out of the unpromised time you have. 
and so, he cuts your fun short with a mere rasp, “i’m through messing around with you. get on the fucking bed.” 
no malice is found in his words; it’s just the height of his lust. you’d do as told, but richter’s already taking action into his own hands. with two, three— no, four steps, he’s standing at the bedside and splaying you across it. he snags off the remaining of your torn panties, left to suggestively decorate his floor. now, in all your naked glory, you’re bare and ready for him. 
richter crawls over to you and kneels from above where you lay, situated closely between your legs. your thighs cushion either side of his lean hips. he leans down occasionally whenever you plead for a kiss, or wish to thread your fingers through his brown tousled hair. it now looks just a bit wilder than usual. 
“c’mon— open, darling.” he hints at your legs, smoothing his warm palms down from your calves to your thighs. ever the compliant girlfriend, you part them nice and wide for his viewing pleasure. your cunt’s glossy and wet, clenching around nothing but the intangible air around. 
‘oh, how pretty,’ he breathlessly murmurs, dragging two fingers across the expanse of your body. down, down, down, until they’re tracing along your slit. your dripping hole puckers against the pads of his index and middle, and you whimper when he threatens to push two inside. 
“this wet, yet i’ve hardly done a thing,” his voice is ever boastful, “are you sure i’m the desperate one?” both fingers are suddenly replaced with his stiff erection, and he uses the precum-stained tip to catch onto your clit, resting warm and heavy against it. to that, you release a little ‘mm,’ and he taps against your puffy bud with the head of his cock— stopping once your hips start bucking for more. 
“god, you just love to torment me . . . ” you huff out, vexation getting the best of you. “torment you? oh, never.” richter taunts, slotting himself between your puffy folds. he steers the way he glides against you by keeping a thumb at the base. “i just like to watch you squirm, is all.” 
you know how to pry what you want out of him; a little bit of begging here, a small ounce of praise there. you lift your hips to grind against the underside of him, emitting soft moans whenever he rubs against your swollen clit just right, “richter, please. i really need your cock . . .”  
“oh, baby,” he bites at his lower lip, giving in just as you expected of him. “i love it when you ask nicely.” in one fluid motion, he fits himself past the fleshy ring of your entrance and slips right inside. noise falls from you both; you’re gasping at the steady push, doing your best to accommodate every given inch, and richter’s letting small groans escape him, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hips. 
“always so fucking . . . tight,” he emits a shuddered breath, dropping his head to watch himself bottom out deep enough for his balls to nestle snugly against your ass-cheeks. you’re well connected now, to the point where his own pelvis has become sticky with your arousal. chestnut fringes drop into his view, and he sweeps his hair back with one hand threading through it. 
“you’re taking it all so well this time,” he lifts his gaze to meet yours, a subtle grin playing on his lips. “such a good girl for me.” the connection between you two pulsates. he starts to build a delicious rhythm— drawing out for just a second, and pushing back in by the next. he watches you melt beneath him, your eyes sealed shut and mouth agape. a tangly string of moans tumble from your plush lips. richter’s no composer by any means, but the sounds he pulled from you is nothing short of beautiful music. 
he’s without resignation tonight, and you notice his intensity when handling you. those naughty hands of his cup and squeeze and rub, his thrusts are fast, and you're sure that the resounding ‘smack!’ of skin-upon-skin can be heard from outside the window with how loud it’s become.  
richter’s got your wrists bound above your head using the grip of only one firm hand, while he uses the other to keep your leg perched over his broad shoulder. his cock pushes deeper inside whenever he rolls his hips into your own, and your toes curl against the sheets with every stroke. when ramming in, his breath goes shaky at the sight of your body lurching, and pulling out makes his eyes roll back with how hard you’re clamping down on him, practically begging him to stay. 
you’re soon to unravel, and you can tell he is too. his thighs begin to tremble, and his pace is less timely. nearing ecstasy, you already know what richter’s bound to ask you: 
“where do you want me?” 
without fail, he poses the same question by the near end of every session. and each time, you opt for the safe route, even though you secretly wish for more. your answer mostly varies on whatever position he’s got you manhandled in. bashfully, you’ll instruct him to cum over your ass if he has you bent over, or your tits if he’s been ogling them the whole night. sometimes, you’ll even let him decorate your pretty face with his seed— now that drives him mad, so much so that you always go another round or two afterwards. 
but your true desire is, by far, much filthier than the rest. you’re nowhere near daring enough to plainly admit that you want his cum inside of you. as in, womb-filling placement. pregnancy-inducing, even. 
though, something’s come over you tonight. you think richter’s finally ‘fucked you stupid’ the way he always cockily threatens to. or, maybe having him settled within you just feels too good to give up so soon. you don’t want him pulling out this time, you determine. what you need is for him to stay right where he is, to keep you stuffed whole with his warm love. all you want is for him to do it— 
“inside,” is your breathless cry; a risky plea of the very thing he spends lone nights getting himself off to the thought of. richter isn't sure he heard you right— no, it must be a cruel figment of his perverse imagination. a bead of sweat's caught along his raised brow, those blue eyes of his carry a hooded glow, and his face, bearing a cutely furrowed look, grows pinker than before. 
“what?” 
“oh, god,” you whine, face gone hot. “richter, i . . .” the words melt off your tongue and fizzle into nothing. 
“you . . ?” he plays around your hesitance, drawing out the word with some light goading. you sigh rather than responding, and it’s a dramatic one, because does he really have to make you repeat yourself? richter gazes down at you expectantly as he slows his movements, finding purchase on your waist to come to an unsteady pause. his fingers drum along your sides, awaiting more clarity. 
your voice is small when you manage to confess, “ . . . i want you to cum inside of me.”
you think you can see the very moment that he fucking breaks. it’s like his resolve’s a porcelain vase, oh so delicate, and you’ve just pushed it to the floor and cracked it into a million tiny pieces. he releases this low groan, one that makes your pussy flutter at the sound of it. you can feel how rapidly his cock throbs from within you. you’re sure he’s about to paint them white. 
“shit . . . you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, rich. i want this.” 
you blink up at him, pleading with glassy eyes and the very pout that makes his heart throb. god, he wants to kiss you so messily right now. and that he does— closing in to slot his lips against yours, working his tongue down your mouth, and separating with a distinct pop! you moan against richter’s lips as his clutch on your waist intensifies. 
“you’ve gone ahead and finally drove me fucking crazy,” he thickly swallows, “you don’t know what you’ve just done to me, do you?” richter takes hold on both sides of your face, painless but firm. you mumble aloud what sounds like his name. he can’t be sure, as you’re muffled from the way his grasp is making your cheeks puff out. 
“oh, darling, you don’t.” richter seethes, knowing how you like it when he gets a little mean, “because if you did, you’d know that spewing that kind of shit will make me fuck you like a senseless animal,” his toned body is hunched over yours, eliminating any space there once was between you, “that i’d fill up this greedy little cunt until you’re overflowing with my cum,” his octave drops, tone dangerous, “that i wouldn’t be able to stop until we’ve both passed out on this goddamn bed.” 
“mmph, rich . . .” you weakly attempt, whining through your lips that he keeps pursed between his thumb and index that press into the fat of your cheeks. 
“what was that, love? you wanna be stuffed with my cum?” his tone is a mocking one, but you dumbly nod anyway. he mirrors the rocking motion of your head, amused with your desperation, “fuck yeah, you do. can feel you getting wetter at the thought of it.” 
you haven’t got it in you to feed into that typical banter with your boyfriend. you only want him to do just as he said and ‘fill you up.’ you're pawing at his bicep with one hand, and the other one clasps over the wrist of the hand he’s using to squish at your face. ‘want it,’ you start, fingers skimming across his arm, ‘so badly, rich!’ 
“fine, then. you’re such a needy thing,” he gives in, figuring you’ve endured just about enough of his teasing. richter holds himself by the base, and pulls back to trace your gaping hole with his cockhead. 
“you asked for this,” he pants out, “to be fucking bred.” 
just as before, his entrance is a smooth one; even if your grip on him is so taut that he can barely manage to move. you’re moaning again, aimlessly circling your hips in an attempt to match his movement. 
patterns repeat themselves— like richter’s desperation that always manifests itself through harsh rutting. his mind goes blank every time he’s encompassed by your sweet, warm pussy. he aches for it, for you, as though he wasn’t just indulging. he was this close to release just minutes ago. the sensitivity is still there, you notice from how his tip pulses from within you. he’s been holding out on himself, trying to make this count. 
richter dedicates the next several minutes to flipping and folding you into at least two different positions, bodies merging with a zealous haste. as always, the bed creaks and whines with every pivoted motion made upon it. nobody else is here to complain about it, so the noise is ignored rather than worried over. after all, there’s something gratifying about the sex being hard and thorough. 
there’s more fervor behind his loving this time, and it’s because he’s got the end in mind. yes, the finishing is what he anticipates; once he can finally, finally pump you full of all the cum he has to offer. and maybe— no, definitely, he’ll have you knocked up after it’s done.  
the prospect excites him more than it should; giving you a little bright-eyed belmont. richter’s always seen replenishing the sacred bloodline as a responsibility that only he alone holds. the very last one, he is. who else apart from him could return their clan to its original glory? 
a good amount of years ago, as richter can’t bring himself to remember a particular number, his mother would present him with countless tales of their infamous family. how they’d slay monsters of the night with the utmost ease, gifted with holy tools and magic of old passed down throughout the centuries. he wouldn’t like to admit how much it’s gotten to his head; or moreso, how important he sees it to expand the family tree. 
god willing, the pair of you will have babies, lots of babies, and mark the start of a new generation of vampyre slayers. it already helps that he loves to fuck you at any given chance. breeding you had always been lingering at the back of his mind, even back when the pair of you first coupled over ten months back . . . but he never really thought so deeply about it until you confessed your deep desire, and forced him to come to terms with his own. 
“thinkin’ of you pregnant,” he reveals, voice honest and vulnerable, “god, what a beautiful sight. my woman, all round and full with my love . . . ” 
“mm, that sounds— possessive,” you breathe out, body steadily rocking at the pace that richter’s set. you’re cracking your eyes open and sparing him a glance, just to see that he’s already staring back down at you. like you’re his everything, it seems. that twinkle in his eye is reserved for you only, and it makes you throb with want. 
“oh, i’m sure it does.” he doesn’t bring himself to deny it. he wants you marked by him in every possible way. for anyone to take a glance at your rounding belly months from now and just know that he touched you thoroughly and fucked you right. 
“but you should understand just how fortunate you are, baby,” he coos, “do you know how many bitches would kill for this seed you’re getting tonight? hm?” richter drones on, “you even sure you deserve it?” 
he knows full well that you do. if there’s any woman on god’s green earth that he wants to give all his love to, it’s indisputably you. he’s simply rousing you up, making you ‘earn’ it. the man likes to tease, and you can’t help but enjoy being on the receiving end. 
“well . . . you’re planning to give it to me, aren’t you?” even with him wrecking you, body sore and hair disarray, you're still able to check him. “i am,” he sighs, “and you’re gonna feel it all the way in here,” a large palm of his splays across your abdomen. from over your tummy, he feels the outline of his own cock, pressing in and sliding out before ramming it’s way back in again, courtesy of his rolling hips. 
it spurs him on to see that he doubles you in size, so much so that his dick leaves a bulge. richter bets that he’s stretching out your cunt in the nicest way— just look at how you’re taking it with hazy eyes and quivering legs. no wonder you want his cum so badly; because who else throughout all of goddamn machecoul could give you such good orgasms? which other man could possibly fill you up with such valuable seed? 
“i swear, m’gonna give you a baby,” is richter’s shaky promise, moaning throughout, and his cock throbs twice in a row. he’ll make you a carrier of the next generation of belmonts, he swears it. and oh, is he sure you’ll be an amazing mother. the thought makes his head buzz. he vividly pictures you, tender and swollen in the tummy and breasts, waddling around cutely due to carrying his very own child. he could cum just by thinking about it too hard . . . 
and he does.
“oh, god, i’m gonna— oh, fuck!” his balls constrict, his pelvis becomes tightly-strung, and before he knows it, he’s emptying his thick load inside of you. 
“yes, rich . . . give it to me,” you softly purr, allowing him to ease his weight onto you as he shudders from the high and his limbs go weak. from where he has his face smushed against your cushiony chest, he bites at your left breast while cumming some more. it spurts out in hot streams, accompanied by the twitching of his sensitive dick. he lazily humps against you, and a bit of semen seeps past your cunt, trickles down the length of him, and pours out onto the sheets beneath. you knew it’d be satiating to be filled to the brim. 
he feels like he could fall asleep right here atop of you. even with his head’s swimming in a thick cloud of lust, and though the aftermath of his climax lingers, he’s still able to deliver slow rubs to your little bud.
“hope you’re ready for another,” he reaches down between you and swiping his graceful fingers across it, “because we aren’t fucking done yet.”
you hardly get a chance to bask in how nicely he’s loaded your womb, or the delightful tingle he brings when playing with your clit. richter, always a step ahead, uses his small bit of remaining energy to sit upwards with his back to the bedpost, and hauls you onto him so that you’re straddled over him just the way he likes. he gets the best view of your jiggling boobs this way.
“of course you still have it in you,” you lightly laugh. given his endurance, richter’s usually able to maximize his stamina through plenty of rounds. “i also wouldn’t mind being filled a second time . . .” you set your forehead to rest against his, bringing up a hand to swipe hair away from his gorgeous eyes, “i liked it.”
“and i loved it,” he’s quick to admit, “should’ve been finishing inside you long before now.”
you smile over his comment and wiggle your ass over his semi hard-on, growing stiffer with every sway of your breasts in his face. his hands are busy holding you from either side, so you go out of your way to stroke along his cum-dirtied cock, white dripping alongside it. he groans at your touch as you help him in finding your entrance. your mouth falls open when sinking down on him, and he rushes to lick and suck at your lips. for the third time tonight, he makes himself at home in your inviting cunt. 
and so, it begins again; his ceaseless tempo. your partner's grasp is hot and strong, pulling you off and slamming you back down onto him however he pleases. you cry out for more, and he’s capable of giving it to you, so he does. richter pistons up into you— out, in, out, in, molding you to shape the very curve of his veined cock. blush colored a fiery pink scatters his face from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 
“again, richter,” you gasp out, “cum inside me again . . !” oh, just look at that. now he’s built you a rotten little addiction. from here on out, you’ll probably always be left craving the fulfillment gained from him dumping his load into your pussy. personally, he doesn’t mind sating you. if it eases your mind and satisfies your heart, of course. after all, he’s surely developed a new kink of his own after tonight.  
“oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you, cockslut?” his fingers dip between your bodies to slide against your clit once more, “to let me impregnate you again, and again, and again . . .” he punctuates his sharp words with the lurch of his sturdy hips, knocking up into you until you’re jolting in his lap, breasts bouncing against his solid chest. 
he doesn’t mean to come across in an offish way, or sound so mean. it’s just that when he gets like this, with your warm body so pliant at his fingertips, his mouth just tends to . . . run. more than usual, he supposes. the belmont just says whatever comes to mind, no matter how vulgar. 
richter’s bright blue eyes follow the motion of your tits with every thrust. he slams in, hips pressed to you as close as it can get. he’s burrowed into you so deeply that his curly patch of dark pubes friction against your bundle of nerves. he’s twitching at the underside for every time your velvety walls suck him in further. you’re trying to milk him fucking dry, he believes. 
there’s only so much stimulation that the pair of you can take in one night alone. 
‘goddammit’ he grits out. before long, richter’s fucking you full of another stream of cum. his orgasm, hot and blinding, triggers your own; you’re creaming all over him, wetting his cock with the juices you squirt out. you’re sobbing out his name and shaking in his lap, so he holds you. a secure hand of his comes up and cradles your head to his chest, stroking your hair and calming your spent body, even as the orgasmic waves rush through you. 
a silence comes over his quaint little room, where the ambience was once intense with the steamy air of sex. a chill autumn breeze blows its way through the cracked-open window, cooling your sweat-sheen skin. his dusty-blue sheets are stained with all kinds of suggestive white fluids, and the bed has stopped making all that noise. 
you’re still placed over his thighs in the same straddling stance, one you both feel much too tired to get out of. he tries at maneuvering so he can lie on his back, with you motionlessly laid over him. your breathing is soft and winded, but your heart’s beating fast. he can feel it, with the way your chest is pressed to his own in this position. 
richter eventually slips out, and you whine once he leaves you. he peers down and groans at the spillage of his potent cum, pearly and warm, dripping from your messy little cunt in thick globs. ‘christ,’ he thinks, ‘it’s so fucking much.’  
he presses a kiss to your forehead, and it stirs you from the sleep you were just about to fall into. “what do you say to me, darling?” 
“hmm . . what?” after all those rounds, you’re not here mentally, and he knows it— he’s why. but with the light smirk his lips hold, you’re finally able to get it. he’s waiting for a: 
“t—thank you,” you murmur out, and he tsks.
“oh, c’mon, be specific. thank you for what?” 
he's simply insufferable. oh, but you love the man, so you'll let him have his way, just for tonight.
“thank you for . . giving me your cum, richter . . .”
he hums in what appears to be satisfaction. it sounds like the prettiest set of words when falling from your lips. he’d fuck you again if the both of you weren’t completely spent. 
richter brings a hand to support the back of his head, propping it up a little higher than the pillows can. you snuggle into him, face nuzzling against the firm comfort of his chest, and he throws his arm over your waist, feeling at the plush skin there with a wandering touch. 
his palm slides a bit further down, now planted gently against your stomach. it’ll start to grow in a little while, and get real big and plump with your baby fostering inside. maybe they’ll have your nose and complexion, with his eyes and attitude . . . he lets a grin overtake his lips, feeling more than accomplished. 
“you’re a lucky fucking woman,” richter coos, hand lovingly rubbing over your tummy, “you’re gonna be carryin’ belmont blood now.”
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tags go out to . . . ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ @blushfwul @springmarcheson @missmagicalprincess @kaennih-skitlles @divin3bloodlines! hope y’all enjoyed, mwuah! ❤︎
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©𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! — all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ
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justporo · 2 years ago
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Do you have any headcanons on what Astarion and Tav's home would look like? :)
You bet, I do! But I put some more thought into it over the day so may I present you with:
Domestic headcanons about what Tav's and Astarion's home in Baldur's Gate would look like
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After your adventures and some looting of certain castles you go to buy a small but luxurious townhouse in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate - probably criminally under its actual worth but you two are just so convincing, aren't you?
Dark wooden floors, high windows (with thick brocade curtains of course), wrought-iron balcony and fence - it's giving gothic and dark academia but in a homey and warm way
Soft lighting everywhere, lots of candles and candelabra, a fire place of course and oil lanterns that make every room feel warm and cozy
Astarion has impeccable taste and enjoys a bit of decadence (of course) and really finds joy in picking out furniture and decorations - he's going for noble, rich, palace-y, posh vibes, but tasteful
Also Tav would stop him from going overboard - she's not used to all the pompous stuff and cares more about the pracitcality of it all; also she's definitely the one who brings in some plants and greenery; also some nice stuff for Scratch because I'm sure Tav would insist on being the one to keep him
When Tav says she'd rather likes it simple tho... "Simple, love? Everyone can have simple, but not just anyone can have beautiful!" "So... you are not denying that beautiful means more complicated?" "No, but isn't that also why you chose me after all? Because I'm intricately complicated and incredibly beautiful?" Can't argue with that logic
Tav's also focused on making it cozy though and especially creating comfy little corners where they can just lounge together: like a little alcove to sit and read or look out the window or some pillows on the wood floor so you can sit in front of the fire place
There's a chaise-longue somewhere in the house - maybe in the incredibly over-sized dressing room, so Astarion can lay on it and watch Tav dress
DEFINITELY NO MIRRORS - no need to remind Astarion of that particular part of his condition; also why would he need it if you can tell him how beautiful he is everyday?
There's also a piano (as we have learnt before *wink*) and lots of books and trinkets and artworks - Astarion likes all stuff having to do with arts
It might be messy, at least at the beginning, you're both not used to having and holding onto stuff, also Astarion's desperately trying to find himself - that comes with creative chaos
Is there even a need to mention the bed is huge? And also has very much cliché dark red silk sheets? But it's probably the piece of furniture where you spend the most of your nights, not only for mingeling but just sitting and laying there, reading, drawing, talking, teasing each other
Also at some point you'd probably get a joint portrait but you don't want it to be too stiff and regal rather wanting it to show how much joy you give each other
The kitchen is to spoil Tav: when Astarion finds out you enjoy cooking and are pretty skilled at it he gets you all the best equipment he can find - even though you don't know how to use half of it - yet
Oof, I could maybe keep going some more... Thanks for the message, it was fun to think about this. (Also I know I might be swinging between medieval and more victorian vibes but hush, it's a fictional world where everything is possible) Also I knew I wouldn't yet do requests - but really that was just me putting something out there I already thought about. And I'll do some requests soon!
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gawkingatyourface · 1 year ago
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Sweetest Tail | Preview
summary: A new recruit, Sas joined the Hazbin Hotel after the extermination which made Charlie so happy that she was jumping with joy. This new recruit took the whole crew to their only family that was outside of Pentagram City. Not realizing what they were getting into or more like whom they'll meet.
pairing: Lucifer x reader , Alastor x reader , Azrael x reader
warnings: angst, swearing, violence
notes: hi guys! this is my side blog for Hazbin Hotel stories hehe I've been so obsessed with the show as well as the songs. Just everything about it, pulled me in lol anyway, this is just a little preview of a story I'm working on. Hope you guys like it! Let me know if it's good or not hehe
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"Are we almost there toots? We've been walking for who knows how long?!" Angel complained as Husk chuckled beside them.
"We are. Just a few more." The new recruit named Sas said back as he looked around to see a familiar building.
Well the only building in the middle of no where.
Everyone looked at the building before looking at Sas with curious and judgmental looks.
He turned back at them and rolled his eyes.
"It might look bad from the outside but inside it's way better. Haven't you guys ever heard of not judging a book from its cover."
"Don't read books."
"Nope."
"What's a book?"
Sas raised an eyebrow at them and shook his head.
"Come on. She's waiting for us."
That caught Charlie's attention.
"She? Are we here for another recruit?"
Sas shook his head.
"I don't think she wants to redeem herself to heaven. She hates heaven for a reason that I can't tell you."
"Oh..."
That made Charlier sad as Vaggie comforted her.
"She's also my big sister so flirting is off limits." He said towards Angel whom just laughed and stick their tongue out at him.
"Well, he's got a point." Husk commented which Angel glared at him.
Alastor was quiet as he had never heard of this place. He eyed the place with suspicious as he kept silent. He even glanced to see Lucifer even curious about this place. He figured that he didn't know this place as well.
The King of Hell didn't know of this place, how odd.
Sas stood in front of the door and glanced at everyone for a second before he opened the door to reveal a well, styled place.
A café.
Multiple types of demons were chatting away their lives, not caring whom had came in.
Everyone was astonished at how well designed this place was. It was old fashioned. With paintings and sculptures all around the area. There was a small bar on the right side of the place. On the far left corner, there was a small stage that someone was performing with a piano which gave the whole place the old times vibes.
Alastor really liked it. It reminded him back when he was a human.
Charlie was amazed at how everyone was so chill and collected.
No bloodshed. No violence.
Just calm and enjoyment.
Vaggie also liked at how calm the environment was. She could breathe in peace and not worry about protecting Charlie and the rest.
Angel thought the place was cool and stuff but their eyes were definitely on the bar and the variety of drinks they had.
Even Husk was astonished at the bar choices.
Niffty was on Alastor' shoulder before dropping to the ground. Her expressions about the place was hilarious. She eyed the whole place like a little girl in a field trip. So excited to explore the whole place for roaches.
"This place is amazing! Where are the roaches?!"
Sas managed to grab her before she ran all over the place and caused a rukus.
"Calm down Niffty. I'll let my sister know first for you to find the roaches."
"Yay! Where is she?! I need to kill them roaches!"
Sas shook his head before he handed Niffty to Angel and made his way to the bar.
Lucifer stood beside Charlie as he was amazed at the place interior design. It felt homey. So comfy and relaxing. It somewhat warmed his heart.
Sas nodded at the bartender and went back to the group.
"She'll be here in a bit. While we wait, let's go sit and get some drinks."
"Whoo! Finally!" Angel said as they all went to a table on the far end of the place.
"So what's this sister of yours like Sas?" Charlie asked as she sat beside Vaggie.
"Yeah, you make her sound so mysterious."
"As long as she doesn't kill us."
Before Sas could say anything, a angelic voice was heard.
"I don't think killing my little brother's friends would do me any good."
Everyone turned around to see a rather exquisite creature in front of them. Aside from Sas that looked at her with a big smile and teary eyes.
Standing in front of them was [Y/N], a nine tailed fox that was wearing a rather comfy dress with rested above her knees. Her eyes staring at each face with curiosity and interest.
Just like they were all looking at her with interest especially two of them.
Lucifer and Alastor.
They couldn't keep their eyes off of her. It was like she was hypnotizing them with just her eyes.
"[Y/N]!"
Sas yelled out as he got up and ran towards her; hugging her so tight.
She giggled at his excitement as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. She surely did miss him.
"Well, is it just me or you've gotten handsomer since the last time I saw you? Was it a year ago or so?"
Sas nodded as he hugged her tighter. He had missed her so much.
She smiled down at him as she stroked his hair with care and loving.
Charlie looked at her with big, sparkling eyes especially at the sigh of her nine tails. She had never seen anyone with so many tails. They looked so amazing.
"Her tails are gorgeous." She whispered to Vaggie whom nodded at her in agreement.
"You must be Charlie."
Charlie froze as she noticed that she had been staring too long at her tails that she didn't realize that she just spoke to her. She quickly got up and bowed at her.
"Yes I am!"
[Y/N]'s eyes widen before giggled at how adorable Charlie was acting.
"There's no need to bow Charlie. After all, you are the Princess of Hell. It's an honor for you to visit my place." [Y/N] said with grace as she slightly bowed since Sas was still hugging her.
"Well, Sas wanted us to meet you. He said that he really missed you and I wanted to have a conversation with you as well."
That caught [Y/N]'s attention.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all as well and what would you like to discuss with me?"
She patted Sas head for him to let her go as they both went to sit down. She sat on the empty chair between Lucifer and Alastor which Sas didn't like at all. He pouted as he sat beside Angel.
Lucifer gasped a bit as he glanced to see [Y/N] up close which made her even more beautiful in his eyes. The way she carried herself was something that attracted him to her but his face turned to a glare as he noticed the Radio Demon looking at her as well.
Alastor kept his eyes on her with a big smile on his face. Yet, this smile was different from his usual one. It was softer, like he had fallen in love at first sight yet he denied it. He had a plan and goal to get his soul back. That was all he needed. He didn't have time to fall for someone like her. There's no way.
But he couldn't help but keep his eyes on her, watching her every move especially her tails.
They looked so soft. He had the urge to touch them. He even had the idea that if she lets him touch her, he'd gladly let her touch his. His eyes widen at the realization at what he was thinking as he glanced away from her, not wanting anyone to notice his infatuation with her.
But one did.
And they weren't happy at all.
The King of Hell had been glaring at the Radio Demon. Alastor couldn't help but smirk back at him as if it was a competition which they both decided that it was.
"Well, it's mostly about my dream to help my people. I'm sure Sas has told you about the Hazbin Hotel."
[Y/N] nodded.
"Well, it's a hotel for sinners to redeem themselves so they can have a better life and possibly go to Heaven."
As Charlie went on about her dream and the improvement that everyone has been doing; [Y/N] was lost in thought about her idea. It did seem like a good idea but knowing how Heaven is especially Adam and Sera; it wasn't gonna happen.
Everyone wanted to go up to Heaven because of the paradise yet for some it wasn't worth it.
It was quiet for a bit until [Y/N] felt a spark from someone touching her hand-well more like both her hands which got her out of her mind and blinked several times to bring her back.
"[Y/N], you alright?"
Before she could say anything, she glanced to see that Lucifer and Alastor were the ones that awoken her. She gave them a small smile but that quickly disappeared as she felt a presence that she hadn't felt in a while.
A long time.
She knew that Lucifer was sitting next to her whom couldn't take his eyes off her along with the wide smiled guy that was sitting next to him.
No this was someone else.
Someone that she's been trying to hide from.
Her eyes widen at the realization as she quickly got up which got everyone's attention.
"You all need to-"
A loud crash was heard at the front door which made everyone gasp as they all stood up.
[Y/N] looked at the bartender and gave him a signal which he returned as he took several of the customers to the back door for safety. Just from the explosion, she automatically knew who it was.
It was him. For sure.
"Sis, what's going on?" Sas said as he gripped onto her hand tightly, not knowing what was going on.
"I need you to take your friends out of here. Someone is here and they don't take lightly-"
"Oh sweet [Y/N]...are you here darling?" A mocking, sweet voice was heard.
One that she knew so well that she got chills all over her body.
Lucifer stood up as well, knowing that voice as well. He didn't believe that he'd be here. He couldn't be.
"There's no way that.."
"It is him."
She answered him, not even looking at him.
Lucifer's eyes widen as he looked at [Y/N] whom was looking straight ahead in a glare.
"How is that...why is he even here?"
[Y/N] kept silent as the cloud of dust started to disappear to reveal the person that they were talking about.
"My sweet [Y/N], oh how I've missed you."
The voice got deeper as the view got clearer.
"Dad, what is going on? Who is that?"
Lucifer stood beside [Y/N] as he couldn't answer Charlie, he was too shocked at whom was in front of him.
"Oh my, we have some company. How fun. Guess this will make my work even easier." The figure revealed to be Azrael, the Angel of Death.
"Azrael."
Hearing her say his name made his smile wider as he took steps closer to her.
"How lovely your voice sounds when you say my name, wifey."
Everyone was shocked.
WIFEY?!
...
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algerian-lady · 5 months ago
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Listen, his clothing style is completely random and tacky, but he makes it work somehow, maybe because he's excessively handsome? Jk, I think his style reflects who he is as a character, he can dress formally too ofc, when the occasion is offered, but otherwise he's just not interested in that, and his huge coats and oversized clothes as well as his large built and height, make him appear as this huge friendly bear, intimidating as a mafia should be, but also super warm and cozy when you get to see his smile and super soft personality.
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I really love Dio's character in Khr, I love so many characters so it's difficult to pick favorites, but I'd have wanted to see him more (like not as a side character, but see his work, life, powers etc as an individual and the Cavallone family in general) that's why I wanna write smth for me abt him (prob gonna share it with my sis). And while I was looking back on his appearance and fashion choice, did I really start analyzing it, like ofc all khr is like this, it reminds me in a sense of bleach with how random the fits were, it's nostalgic to the 2000's style and I love it ofc, I love homey comfy clothes, they just put you in a different mood.
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But since Dino is from the few characters who aren't attending school, and he doesn't give a shit abt official wear, that's why we get to see some of that clothing style ppl were wearing at the time. I'm saying it's the fashion sense of that period yes, but the author still gives their character their individuality, like Gokudera has a very edgy punk fashion statement, despite being in school he's always popping up with a new killer outfit and it's so interesting to see. (like I'm acknowledging here that they don't only wear their school uniforms, it's just what they wear the most, but he's still outstanding outside of that contrary to the others who made made forget they wore other stuff)
This is just a rumble and if I start talking about everyone and comparing, it'll be a mess, so let's just focus on Dino. The guy is at the head of one of the biggest mafia families of his time and at such a young age, all of his men are in uniforms to give their family a decent representation as a serious gangsta mafia unite, but their leader doesn't, he just dresses up like a hipster. The thing is he can clearly afford to dress up more richly, but he doesn't.
In manga and animes, I usually make a wild guess that authors may not know if what the person is wearing is considered fashionable,( like I'm an artist and have absolutely no idea how my characters will be perceived, I could think 'this character needs to appear fashionable' but ppl online will call them tacky and messy, especially generations later, across continents ) I have also a feeling that bcz it was so old the perception of fashion was different (as I have pointed many times) and lastly, bcz the Mangaka (s) is/are prob Japanese, they could have a certain image (right or wrong) over foreign fashion, esp from a country as fashionable as Italy, so that'd explain why they wanna give an impression with characters that came from there, like Gokudera his sister Bianchi and Dino, saying like look these ppl are youngsters from Italy, they wear like 2000's magazines. All of these are speculations, to say that those could be some reasons those characters wear this specific way.
If we put these aside, and consider that the Manga artist know exactly what they are doing and it's 100% what you think it is, in this case, Dio's décontracté objectively messy style compared to his men, has a clear message, he's saying" I'm your homie clumsy big bro, fuck étiquette, i'm the boss hanging out with my fam, let me live my age, I'm tired of this mafia stuff so I don't have time to dress up so I put on this mop I found on the trash bin." or whatever. But that appearance could also be 100% intentional, maybe he wanna look approachable to Tsuna sensing he'll become the head of the Vangolla and wanting to maintain a good alliance with them so he needs tsuna to like him, he also us aware he's staying around kids and don't wanna intimidate them with formal wear again because those kids are future mafia allies and he's counting a lot on their family in general. Or he just genuinely want to give a good impression because of he's a genuine guy and his family despite being mafia, have a pretty good reputation.
In conclusion. Dino can wear suits, we saw him in them, yet his appearance is mostly casual( but still gangsta, more like street gangsta, your local drug dealer not huge corporation like) , he still looks intimidating from a first glance until you get on his good side and discover he's a good guy. He could prefer this style over the other because it's cozier and more like him or because he wanna appear cozier and thinks that's the way to do it (altho he'd have made his men dress up to if that was the case). Whatever is the case, I just think it represents his personality a lot and his character in the series (as underrated as I feel it was) as well as the time era.
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lomltrentarnold · 2 years ago
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❛ pretty dimples. ❜ — trent alexander-arnold
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‣ hana’s notes : hey baes!!! this is my first trent work and i hope yall like this <33 this is just full of fluff bc he deserves the absolute world 🫶
MAIN MASTERLIST
━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━
thinking about poking trent’s dimples because you were bored . . .
you would assume that you would be busy on a saturday, but that has proven wrong when you had no plans but to stay in with your boyfriend.
it was a quiet day for you too. slow, and oddly domestic.
as your boyfriend sat across from you on the couch, a controller in hand with his sheer focus was on the game playing, you cant help but admire him.
the feeling of papers on the tips on your fingers should’ve really brought you back to reading. it really should have. but instead, you were focusing on trent.
his dimples, specifically.
he’s pretty, that part was obvious. he’s a pretty boy. sometimes you think he’s prettier than you. (he is.)
but those dimples.
just takes it to a whole new level.
with your book long forgotten, you slowly moved to sit next to trent. thighs brushing as your hand softly caressing his.
“you alright, love?”
you quietly hummed out a response, his voice filled your heart with warmth and sending your pulse into overdrive.
he turned to look at you on his side, doe eyes looking at each other full of adoration. he sent you a warm smile that enhanced the slopes of his dimples and you feel light headed starring at him.
you didn’t even think about doing it but the next thing you know, you finger was poking one of trent’s dimples.
trent eyes widened a little, confused at your sudden behaviour, “what you doin’?”
you ignored his question, “your dimples are so cute.” you sighed dreamily, “i love them so much.”
trent could feel his cheeks heat up at your words. the way you spoke with such sincerity and fondness made his heart rate pick up.
cause there’s no way this gorgeous person in front of him just said that.
“thank you, baby.” he coughed out, flustered. turning back to his game, trying to stop himself for forming the biggest grin on his lips. “yer cute as well.”
you softly laughed at his reaction, and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, “my pretty boy.” you cuddled to his side, softly wrapping your arms around his. letting his perfume invade your senses.
trent kiss the top of your head as a comfortable silence blankets over the both of you.
its always like this with trent, easy, slow, comfy, homey. he feels like home and you love it.
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reblog to support!
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martyreddie · 2 months ago
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honestly, I get buck buckley. eddie's house looks so warm and homey, and his couch is so pretty and probably soooo comfy, and if I could, I, too, would desperately cling onto whatever reminders of an unburdened past I can still find in my life, if just to convince myself that it wasn't a dream all along
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johnpriceslamb · 1 year ago
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Hiii, i love your writing so much!! I just saw your requests were open and wanted to ask for a Ghost x fem!reader. Maybe she is sick and little and Simon has to take care of her. Of course only if you want to, no pressure. All your work is so adorable i just wanted to babble about it really (ˊᗜˋ) ♡
𝓢𝓘𝓒𝓚 𝓓𝓐𝓨𝓢 ,
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˚₊‧꒰ you’re sick. And off in fairy-land. Simon takes care of you. ꒱ ‧₊˚
BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! ‧₊˚ ┊ littlespace ! reader . fem ! reader. afab ! reader. caregiver ! Simon Riley . sickiesickie reader :c . da snifliez . reader is mentioned 2 be physically smaller den simon . not proof-read . OOC !!! simon . 1.3k words
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˚₊‧꒰ 🍼 ꒱ ‧₊˚ A sniffle and a sneeze.
That is what Simon had woken up to.
There you lay, sniffly and hiccupy at the far side of the bed. You sneeze again into a tissue. A teddy bear placed on your dainty lap as you whimper meekly.
You want to be held, but you don’t want to either. Hot and icky from the fever you have just caught.
You want papa.
You turn your head around- and only then does he capture you into his strong, warm, papa-bear arms. You’re not sure if you’re grateful about the heat he radiates and produce, but you’re clearly happy to be in his arms.
He squishes you as if you were just a little teddy bear. Your cherub cheek lies on his chest as you sniffle again. “Papa..”
“I know, I know luv.” He grunts softly, murmuring soft praises of affections in your ear- so much alike of sweet serenades being hummed. He presses a firm kiss on your forehead, “You stay ‘ere, yeah? I’ll make you some-
Clearly, you did NOT want him to go. As he stood up whilst mumbling, your hand clings onto his sleeves with a soft sniffle. This elicits a soft hum. Big beady eyes stare up at him, lashes dew-dropped with tears from the discomfort you were feeling as of now.
His heart pangs. He hates seeing you like this.
“Wan’ papa.” You simply state, shaking your head stubbornly. Clingy girl.
“Luv, I have to..” He trails on when he sees that sad look on your face. Much alike of a baby puppy seeing her owner at the door, closing it in front of her face. He clears his throat, calloused fingers coming to rub off the dew-drops that stain your chubby cheeks. For your sake and his, he has to be firm.
You begin to tear up again. Argh. He can’t do it.
Then- without a word, he grabs your fluffy burberry blanket and throws it over his shoulder. And he picks you up with the utmost care in the world- as if you yourself was just a porcelain puppy. Your little legs wrap around his waist, face in his chest, with arms around his broad shoulders.
“Papa.” You babble sweetly, nuzzling your cheek on his chest.
“Mhm. That’s me, bug.” A faint smile on his cracked lips is evident.
He plops you on the sofa, before wrapping you up in the soft blanket like a bunny nestled into its burrow.
“Y’want chicken soup with yoghurt or bananas, luv?” He calls from the kitchen.
You sneeze, peaking your head from the blanket to watch papa, “Mmm.. Yoghurt.” You hear a can being easily opened, and a slow pour to the ceramic bowls. The ones with the floral print. Your favourite bowl.
“Strawberry or.. Vanilla?” He asks with a gentle grunt.
You blink the sleepiness out of your eye. “Wan’.. Strawberry.”
You hear a low hum, indicating that he heard your little voice from afar.
You feel dizzy from the fever that had come to bite you. You feel miserable without papa. You let out a weak whimper from the sofa, “Paaapaaaa..”
“I hear ya, luv. I’m comin’ soon.” With a small plastic spoon and a bowl of chicken soup warmed up from the microwave, he comes to you with a stride brooding yet loving. He beckons for you to sit up, and you do so with a bit of trouble. You weakly crawl to him.
“‘Aaah,’ baby.” He cheekily coos. A spoonful of yummy chicken soup near your mouth. It oozes with a scent so homey and comfy, you eagerly open your mouth and allow him to put the spoon in.
But.. You droop.
You can’t taste it. At all.
You try to stiffen the tears that almost drip from your waterlines. It coats your wispy lashes as you blink multiple times to get rid of the dewdrops.
He looks at you with a sad frown, “What’s wrong, bug?”
With your frustration and sadness from just taking one spoonful- he notices, “Ah.”
“Can’t taste?” He places the spoon in the bowl to rub your head affectionately.
“Nuh-uh,” You shake your head sadly.
“‘m sorry luv,” He grabs the spoon and gently places it in your mouth again- and again, again. Until the bowl was empty, “At least you know it’s warm, yeah?”
You brighten up just a bit, “..Uhuh.”
“Warm just like your blanket,” A soft squish to your cheek. This elicits a hoarse giggle from your throat- and a soft sneeze.
“Still want the yoghurt?”
You look down at your fuzzy socks, tiny tots wiggling from inside out of pure boredom. “Uhm.. mhm.”
“Good girl.” He brings the yoghurt to your mouth. You can’t taste it, but at least it makes your throat feel just a bit better.
“Tummy full now..” You babble sweetly.
“Mhm? That right, bug?” Standing up to go put the dishes in the sink to wash up quickly, he does. He throws the empty yoghurt tub in the bin with a quick step on the pedestal of the trash-can.
“Luv?” He calls out for you from the kitchen-area.
“?” You peak your head from the blanket again, staring at him with those sleepy baby eyes of yours.
“Y’know I love you..”
Suspicious arises in your tummy. “..Uhuh.”
You squint your beady eyes, a tiny cough escaping your throat.
“And I want what’s best f’ you..”
“…Oki.”
“And.. you want what’s best f’ yourself, don’t you?”
Smart little girl you were. “Nuh-uh.” You don’t want to drink pills.
“Bug..” He frowns, “Just one.”
“It’ll make you feel much better baby, I promise you.” He grunts, filling up a cup of water. He feels bad for doing this- but for your sake.
You can’t help the whine escaping your lips. It’s hard enough to swallow things whilst sick!!!
“No no noooo,” You shake your head as he strides closer with the medicine. You try to back away, even holding the blanket closer to you, but you could not get out of this. Not one bit.
“..Yes, yes, yes,” He plops the medicine in your mouth and- dunks the water as soon as he could.
You sniffle and force yourself to drink it up. You shake your head vigorously, low pigtails bobbling about.
“Bad papa, bad bad..” You rub the sleep in your eye yet again.
He squints his eyes at you, “Oi.”
You meekly look at him, “Sorry..”
He softens up a bit, before pulling your burrito-wrapped self near his frame.
“You’ll be okay soon, luv.” And he presses a soft kiss on your forehead. A squeeze from his arms made you feel much better, as you rest your little head on him yet again.
“My good girl, so strong.” He grumbles out. The praise makes your cheeks bloom like a flower. Your papa-bear. With his warmth, you can’t help but shyly cuddle into his toned-self. You feel just a bit better since you were in his arms, and you were fed a yummy meal. But alas, the everlasting feeling of sickness always comes at you from behind, and catches you off-guard. It makes you broody and crabby.
“Daddy?”
“Mmhm?” He hums gently, watching you play with his much larger fingers.
“My tummy feels dizzy,” You hiccup.
“Dizzy?” He questions, amused.
“Uhuh..” A tiny ‘achu’ escapes your lips. A chuckle rumbles out of his chest at your little sneeze, which causes a glare sent his way.
“Not funny, papa.”
“Mm.. Just a bit, bug.”
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greensagephase · 1 month ago
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Hiii, Alondra! 👋 🥰 I finally got some time due to a break from work to make some fanart for NC! This is inspired by Ch 22 (tbh, there are so many art-worthy moments in that chapter, but I only have so much time) 🥹!
Note: I know they don't actually have both trees up in the same room, but I found a little stamp on IbisPaintX that looked holographic to me, so I included it to show you how I pictured the futuristic holographic tree with the little ornaments.
Also: I loved how Miguel's white cable knit sweater turned out. Still learning to paint and render, but our muses Dulzura and Miguel are helping me! 💞😍
Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed reading your work, as always ❤️💙❤️💙
Love, Hibi 🫂
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Hibi! What if I cry?!?!
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THIS IS SO LOVELY, HIBI!!! 🥹🥹💖 The way the living room looks so COZY and WARM! I seriously love the way you decorated the space; from the couch to the coffee table to the curtains and art on the wall. The trees! I adore both so much and I love how you imagine the holographic tree! It looks so cute! I actually really love the little hearts effect, which I hadn’t thought about before, but would make so much sense for people to be able to add effects to their tree like raining hearts or stars, or something of the sort. That detail and the tree overall are so cute and cozy, Hibi! I appreciate you sharing your vision of it! 💕💕
Also, is this lovely girl your spidersona, or you? I know you said in a comment you've been struggling with your spidersona, too, so I'm curious if this is her, or it's you! Either way, she's so pretty and looks so sweet!🥹 I also love the expression on her face; she’s so immersed with the clear ornament and totally oblivious to the flustered Miguel at her side after calling him cute, haha!!🥹
Which by the way, FLUSTERED MIGUEL!!! AAAAAAAAA, I LOVE HIM SCRATCHING THE BACK OF HIS HEAD, HIS WIDE EYES, AND THE BLUSH ON HIS CHEEKS — SCREAMING FROM THE ROOFTOP!! And the freaking WHITE CABLE KNIT SWEATER — HIBI, YOU’VE BLESSED US!! 🥹🙏🏼 He looks so, so, so cute, handsome, toasty, and cuddly. 🥺😩 I just want to snuggle on the coach with him, head pressed to his chest and letting our warmth become one while I smell his comforting scent, augh! It turned out amazing, friend, you should 100% be happy (more than happy!!) with how the sweater turned out! It truly looks so cozy. I also want to talk about Miguel in his socks… WHY IS HE SO CUTE ?? 😭😭😭 It's such a small detail, but I feel like it further shows how comfy and open he is with Dulzura in their home (as best friends🙂). He just looks so freaking homey!🥺🥺
Also, the two coffee mugs! This is literally me when you guys include them in your art:
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS PRECIOUS FANART, HIBI!!! I swear it makes me want to go and read part 22 and pretend it's December and not March because the vibes in your art are pure peace, coziness, tenderness, and warmth!! ✨️🎄🎁🥹 It means so much to me that you drew this on your free time, too, seriously, thank you!! 😭🥺 I most definitely enjoy and LOVE this fanart, pookie! There's no way I don't!
I want to ask :)) Is it okay if I link this post to the NC fanart post and tag you on it? Please let me know if you're OK with that! I would love to add this beautiful fanart and you to the post! 🥰🥹
Thank you so much, Hibi! As always, I'm so grateful and honored that my fic inspires you guys to draw and that you feel comfortable to share it with me! 🥹 I swear, just thinking about it makes me want to cry each time. 😭I'm sending you a big and warm virtual hug right now!! Please take care and rest my dear, Hibi! 🫂💖
Alondra❤️
p.s. the penthouse is such a vibe, Hibi. Wishing I was there right now with our favorite Spider-Man 🥹💕
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songbirdseung · 1 year ago
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boy is mine / choi soobin
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Y/N and Choi Soobin, a couple whose love was as strong as the Han River's current and as captivating as the neon signs that adorned the cityscape. But amidst the whirlwind of their passionate romance, an unexpected challenge began to unravel.
As Y/N and Soobin navigated their way through the maze of love, they soon found themselves on a path filled with flirty admirers, mostly girls, who were irresistibly drawn to Soobin's charismatic charm. Everywhere they went, from cafes to concerts, Soobin's magnetic allure seemed to attract these would-be suitors like moths to a flame. Now, Y/N must learn to balance the overwhelming presence of these flirty interlopers while guarding the flame of her own love, in a story where jealousy, trust, and the enduring power of love take center stage.
Tall, standing at 187 cm, and possessing the innocent charm of a bunny, Choi Soobin was a shy, incredibly talented, and undeniably good-looking human being. He was, without a doubt, the love of your life. Unfortunately, he was also the love of everyone else's.
You tightened your grip on his arm as you felt the multiple pairs of female eyes following your boyfriend as you strolled through the streets of Seoul. This was not an unfamiliar experience; it happened every time the two of you went out.
Not to say that you didn't have your own fair share of admirers that Soobin had to politely shoo away. After all, Soobin was the "apple of my eye" for everyone.
"Babe, you okay?" Soobin asked as he attempted to loosen your grip on his arm."
You offered Soobin a faint smile, trying to push aside your insecurities. "I'm fine," you replied, releasing your grip on his arm. "Just adjusting to the usual fan club."
Soobin chuckled, his warm, reassuring laugh putting you at ease. "You know, you're the only one who truly matters to me," he said, his gaze filled with affection as he looked into your eyes. "All those other admirers don't hold a candle to you."
His words melted your worries away, and you leaned in to steal a quick kiss, a sweet reminder of your connection amidst the crowd of onlookers.
Later in the same day, you and Soobin reached the new cafe that had piqued both of your interests. Being the gentleman that he is, Soobin opens the door and holds it for you. As you enter, you bask in the warm and homey feeling of the cafe. Your own eyes scan and admire the pretty atmosphere of the place. Soobin then catches on to what you're doing and takes out his phone, a playful glint in his eyes, and begins to film you, focusing on your delighted expression. "Capturing this beautiful moment," he grins.
Soon after, you both place your orders and find a comfy seat, settling into a cozy corner to continue your conversation about the day. In the midst of discussing Soobin's recent comeback, a young woman approaches him. You assume that she's probably just another fan or MOA, but her actions suggest otherwise. She appears to not know who Soobin is by the way she speaks and acts toward him. As if you were invisible, she boldly asks, "Hey, can I get your number? You're seriously good-looking."
You can't help but raise an eyebrow, curious about how Soobin will handle this unexpected situation.
But as always, Soobin kindly rejects her, offering a warm smile as he does so. He politely explains, "I appreciate your interest, but I'm currently on a date with my girlfriend." He points at you, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection for him.
The girl, clearly embarrassed, quickly apologizes and bows before walking away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You roll your eyes at the situation, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance. Soobin leans in closer to you, his voice soft and reassuring, "Don't worry, you're the only one I have eyes for." He brushes his fingers against yours, his touch a comforting reminder of the strong bond you share.
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dp-marvel94 · 1 year ago
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Face to Face - Epilogue
Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did
First -> Last
Word Count: 5,791
Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net
Note: Hi friends! It's been a while. Honestly, I was putting off posting this, the last chapter of Face to Face, because it intimidated me. 😅 But I really wanted to wrap this up by the end of the year. So we're finally here! I'm so excited to share the ending with you guys.
Also in honor of finishing this fic, I wanted to share this loving art made by @lilianade-comics on Tumblr. Check out this lovely scene from chapter 51 here!
Happy Reading!
Six months later.
“I must have been here a dozen times at least. And your lair still surprises me every time.” Sidney said, eyes surveying the room.
Danny leaned back on his couch, giving a chuckle. “Hey, I’m just working with what I have. I think the Hobbit vibes are pretty cool.”
“I figured you would want something more modern and sci fi.” His friend shrugged.
The halfa raised a brow. “Like an underground bunker? Nah.” He shook his head. “As cool as quarters on the Enterprise would be, or the inside of the TARDIS…. It just didn’t feel right. Plus,” He shrugged. “I like to be comfy.”
“It is definitely that.”
True to what Danny had imagined all those months ago, the underground house was cozy, warm, and homey. Wooden floors and paneling. Circular rooms and round doorways. The furniture was simple, warm, reddish maple-wood beds, chairs, and sofas accenting each room. Multiple rugs covered the floors and carefully selected books filled one book shelf. Other decorative objects and nick-nacks covered the walls, end tables, and other surfaces. 
Some were brought from the material realm. One of his model rockets. A blob ghost plush that had been made by his dad. A Black orchid, a gift from Sam, sat in one corner, a Femalien Poster from Tucker on the wall above it. A shadow box with tickets and a glossy photo of the siblings, smiling in their bowties and fezzes with a certain actor; for Christmas his sister had bought him tickets to Comic Con and a Meet and Greet with Doctor Who actor Matt Smith.
Some objects were picked up from various trips through the Realms. There was a black and white lamp from Sidney’s lair that gave off gray light. A drum head on the wall sported an animated image of blue fire; he’d gotten that when Johnny and Kitty had taken him to see their friend Ember perform.
And some were manifested by the lair itself. A painting of a The Library with swirling spectral clouds in the background. Snow globes from different places he’d visited: Sid’s lair, The Library, Dora’s kingdom, Ember’s concert hall venue. And…. the halfa smiled softly at this last object… photo of his family and two best friends, Danny grinning in the middle in ghost form.
“Jeepers! What is this?!” Sidney’s voice interrupted the half ghost’s musing. 
Danny’s gaze flickered to the object of his friend’s attention. “Oh. That? It was a Christmas present from Mom.” He jabbed a thumb at the kitchen counter where a ceramic cookie jar sported half a dozen eyes and pointy teeth around the lid, threatening approaching hands. He grinned. “It’s a Mimic.”
“A Mimic…” For just a moment, Sidney’s black and white brow wrinkled. Then… “Like from that Dungeon and Dragons game Tucker told me about?!” 
“Yep.” Danny nodded.
“Fighting a monster like that… that must be the bee’s knees!” The half ghost could practically see the stars in his friend’s eyes.
“You’re still invited to our games any time you want to join.” Danny raised a brow.
“This section of the Realms needs its own group.” Sidney crossed his arms, pouting slightly.
“Dora might like it… and Ember.” The half ghost grinned toothily. “She’s already literally a bard.” He tapped his chin. “Maybe we can get Ghost Writer to let us use a room in his lair.”
“The Library is not the most convenient location though; it’s far away from everyone but me.” 
“Hum.” Danny’s brow furrowed, considering. “That’s fair.” Sidney’s lair was the closest to the Library by far. But the other’s…. Ember’s lair was about the same distance from the portal as Sidney’s, except in the exact opposite direction. And Dora’s lair was vaguely below his, a leisurely forty-five minute flight down. If anything…. Danny blinked. “I’m in the middle.”
“You sure are, buster.” Sidney raised a brow, looking at him as if it was obvious.
The half ghost took a second to process and then laughed. “It’s always like that, huh?” 
Getting in between the Lunch Lady and his friends. Helping Dora and other ghosts get back to the portal. Making friends with people in this part of the Zone. He rolled his eyes at the irony. The literal half ghost always stuck in the middle. Or rather… maybe he’d chosen to place himself there.
“So I guess we’d meet here. Or…” An idea had been swimming around in his head. A place for the ghosts on this side of the portal to gather, to bond, to help each other and…. “So I’d been thinking-”
Just then, the black rectangular device clipped to the belt of Danny’s suit chimed. “Oh. That’s probably my parents.” He detached the communicator– made by his parents, with Tucker’s help, to work across dimensions and designed to look like the ones from Star Trek–  and flipped it open.
His brow furrowed. “I’m not late for dinner, am I? Didn’t think I’d been gone that long.”
“No sweetie.” His mom’s voice sounded from the other end. “I’m sorry to interrupt your hang-out with Sidney. But Mr. Jenkins called from the Salvage Yard about a ghost problem.”
The boy sighed, head rolling back on the couch to look up at the ceiling. “Is it Technus again?”
“It sounded like it.” The wince was almost audible in her voice. “Your father and I would go but Mr. Jenkins asked for Phantom… very insistently.” 
Another sigh. “I’ll be right there.” Danny hung up, putting the communicator back on his belt before burying his head in his hand.
“Technus again?” Sidney rose a brow.
The halfa looked up, fixing an eye on his friend. “ I mean, I’m fine with him hanging out in the material world and tinkering with stuff. But…” The halfa groaned. “He keeps trying to blow things up the salvage yard.”
The ghostly nerd chuckled. “All that new fangled modern technology…. That beatnik must think he died and gone to heaven.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “He will if I have to tell him to stop stealing other people’s stuff one more time.”
Sidney shook his head. “You know it’s hard to keep a ghost from his obsession.” Then tapping his chin, he mused. “But maybe if he had his own place to experiment…”
“Hum…” Danny furrowed his brow, considering. He floated up. “Gotta go.” He pointed at the black and white ghost. “I’m serious, you should come to our D&D games next Saturday. Think about it?”
“I will.” The other ghost nodded, also rising. “See you later.”
The two exited through the lair’s door, Sidney flying into the green atmosphere of the Zone. Danny flew up, towards the portal. The clear dome around the structure parted with his presence and he entered. 
The boy drifted over the carefully cultivated plants, a particularly energetic snap-dragon snapping at his heel. “Hey! I don’t have time to play right now.” He bent down, patting the petly approximation of a draconic head. 
Danny stood again and continued, passing the beds of black lettuce. A ghostly blue lizard darted between the squash vines. In the flowering tiger shrub, a tiny green bird cooed. Other plants were scattered over the area, glowing insects, some as large as his fist, buzzing over them. The boy couldn’t help but smile. Only six months and there was already so much after-life here on his little island. 
The half ghost arrived in the middle, the frame of the portal surprisingly at home among the vegetation. Though… green no longer swirled in the frame; instead, black and yellow painted doors blocked the entrance. His parents had installed a set on either side to keep out unwanted visitors. 
But Danny, of course, wasn’t an unwanted visitor. With a quick scan of his palm on the panel beside the door, they parted. He flew through, just as the doors on the human-world side opened too.
At the sound, both parents looked up from their work. “Danny-boy!” His dad smiled with a wave. “You want one of us to come with you?”
“Nah. I’m just gonna try and talk to Technus again.” The halfa waved off the concern. He floated up, towards the ceiling. 
His dad looked almost disappointed at the decline; trust Jack Fenton to always be ready and eager to soak an annoyance in ectoplasmic goo, whether they were ghost or human. Still both adults accepted the statement.
“Knock his socks off, son! And be careful!” “We’ll do great, sweetie! Call us if you need anything!” 
With his parents’ words of encouragement rising in his ears, Danny phased through the ceiling and zoomed off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Banging, clanging, and shouting rang through Mr. Jenkins’ Salvage Yard. 
“It’s finished!” Maniacal laughing sounded “Finally finished! I-”
“Finished?! What in tarnation even is-.” A sudden crash. “Woah!’” 
“Ah. A few more finishing touches and…” A sparking, sizzling hiss…
“Where did you get a welding gun? Wait! Is that my coffee maker?!”
The ghost scoffed. “It’s not like you were using it.”
“I used it this mornin’, you-” 
Danny arrived just as Technus flipped up his face shield. “Tada! My greatest creation!” The ghost spread his arms, grinning proudly.
“You stole my French Press!” Mr. Jenkins yelled.
“Ghost Child!” The adult ghost ignored him, eyes lighting up at Phantom’s arrival. “You arrived just in time to watch!”
Danny fixed Technus with a skeptical look. “What’s going on here?”
“As I was saying, I Technus! Master of all things electronic and beeping have finished my greatest creation yet!” The ghost motioned again, to a tracker-trailer sized collection of mismatched metal parts. 
Well, that wasn’t here the last time. “Technus… where did you get all this stuff?”
Just then, a frantic woman came running out of the square building sitting among all the old cars. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Jenkins. I don’t understand how, but the office phone is gone. So are the fax machine and the microwave. And all the computers and-” Her eyes widened, voice squeaking as she spotted Technus. “Not you again!”
“That’s my computer?!” Jenkin’s eyes bulged, his face turning red. “I already told you, this ain’t a junkyard. You can’t take whatever you want!”
“These machines are just sitting here, wasting away! I had to do something with all this beautiful technology.” 
“What’s it even supposed to be!?” 
“An ingenious invention! And greatly needed!” The green skinned ghost held a finger up. “What kind of junk yard doesn’t have a car-crusher?”
“You’re nuttier than a fruitcake.” Jenkins pointed accusingly at Technus. “This ain’t no junk yard! We’re a salvage yard. We sell used parts!”
“Salvage yard.” Technus rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You’re just jealous of my brilliance, old man!”
“At least I made it past half a century!” The older man spat.
“I, Technus! Made it to 52, thank you very much! 52 years and then felled by my own unstable experiment! Oh, to die in the pursuit of science! What a glorious send-off! And don’t you know about that, Halfa child! Still wearing that hip and sweet hazmat suit-”
“We are not talking about my death.” Danny interrupted pointedly. “Now-”
“Of course! Enough of this. You came to see my genius!” The mad scientist darted around the metal monstrosity, lab coat flapping behind him.
“Phantom! Stop him!” Mr. Jenkins cried.
“You heard him, Technus.” The ghost boy crossed his arms. “Don’t make me get out the thermos.”
The older ghost ignored the reprimanded, eagerly grabbing at the machine’s controls. “First! The claw will shoot out and snag the car we want. Now which one…” His brow furrowed, then turning and pointing at a red, old-looking convertible. “Ah! That sad sorry hunk of junk will do.”
“Technus! We talked about this!” Danny drove forward, arms out to pull the other ghost away from the controls.
At the same time… “ No! That’s-” Mr. Jenkins sounded panicked. 
Danny surged forward but faster than he could process, the mad scientist blinked out of the way. He missed, tumbling in the air and barely missing the side of the car-crushed machine. 
The clawed arm lashed out, clamping around the truck. The metal fingers snapped closed with an agonizing crunch of metal and glass. 
“Must be out of practice.” Danny mumbled. Then, he lit his hands with ecto-energy, “Technus, I’m warning you!” 
“And now! My hyper-efficient car-crusher will reduce this rust bucket to scrap in seconds!” The other ghost laughed maniacally, jamming one of the lever’s down.
“No! No! No!” Mr. Jenkins sounded near… tears?
The arm pulled the car forward, the headlights meeting the jaws of the crusher with a stomach-turning crunch.
“Look! My funky fresh creation is working perfectly!” 
The ghost boy let his shot lose, the ecto-energy knocking the other ghost away.
“No! That’s my car!!” Mr. Jenkins fell to his knees.
Danny darted in front of the control panel. His eyes widened. So many buttons, nobs, and levers…. Lights blinked in front of him. Frantic, the boy jabbed at different controls. 
“My Oldsmobile!” Beside him, Mr. Jenkins was definitely crying. “That was Pa’s. Me and Pa fixed it up before he passed. No!”
The halfa’s eyes flashed. “How do you turn this thing off?” He turned to the other ghost, demanding.
Technus floated there for a moment, eyes wide and startled. He stared, the previous mad joy completely evaporated, even as he took in his invention. After a blink, his gaze moved from the machine to the devastated human man. The ghost’s face scrunched up, brow wrinkling. Then…
He flew back to the controls. Wordlessly, the mad scientist pushed a series of buttons, metal crunching uglily all the while. He pulled a final lever and the sound of gears and breaking glass stopped.
Quiet fell and Danny sighed, shoulders untensing. Still, he nervously fingered at the thermo’s lid. “Technus, you know I don’t have any problem with you hanging around Amity Park. Tinkering by itself is fine. But when you start taking other people’s things and destroying property…. I can’t let that stand.”
“But it’s just an old car…” The older ghost fixed his head down, voice oddly subdued.
“It’s Mr. Jenkins’ car.” Danny pointed. “It belongs to him.” His tone sharpened. “I wouldn’t come in your lair and mess with your laboratory. Take your inventions without asking. You can’t do that to Mr. Jenkins.”
A long, tense pause fell over the yard. The sound of gravel shifting at the human man stood, as his assistant nervously shuffled. Danny could feel both adult’s eyes on him but his own gaze was fixed on the ghost and his tight, unreadable expression. Technus had stopped the crusher but… why? Did he understand? The boy’s stomach turned, anxiously hoping. That the ghost had listened, that he could find a peaceful resolution. 
Technus’s grip on the control panel’s levers tightened. “It seems, I, Technus, made an error. The first tenant of the scientific method…. I failed to gather all the important background information.”
Mr. Jenkins looked up, angrily whipping his face. “You don’t say.”
“I got so excited, I forgot to ask for permission to use the junk…”
“Hey! It’s not-” The human started objecting.
“Or to think about whether the invention would be useful here. I mean, who ever heard of a junkyard without a car-crusher? But apparently, you don’t need one. Which does not make any sense to me. Still, I should not have taken your things and-”
“That’s all fine and good. But my car’s still trashed.” Jenkins interrupted, scowling at the crushed vehicle.
“An honest mistake.” Technus winced. “And…” He held up a finger. “Give me a second.” He darted over to the wreckage. “Here, let me…” 
The mad scientist ghost waved his hands over the debris. His aura sparked, spreading out and enveloping the twisted metal and shards of glass. The pieces trembled slightly, rising with a jerk. Technus’ fingers moved as if he was counting, typing, or playing an instrument. The wreckage floated and flowed, swirling in the air and coming together. It coalesced into…
“Well I’ll be damned.” Mr. Jenkins said breathily.
Danny’s eyes widened, just as amazed. “How? You… you-”
“Fixed it!” Technus swung around, arms spread. “I fixed it!”
Sure enough, the car sat in front of them, whole and intact.
The on-lookers just blinked for a long moment. Then…
“My car!” Mr. Jenkins practically ran forward. “Bessie! You’re alright!” He flopped onto the hood, arms spreading wide as if hugging the vehicle. “Better than alright!” Eyes wide and gleeful, he wiped at a spot over the headlights. “That blasted scratch is gone!” 
The human man kept cooing over his car and Danny laughed. “He’s worse than my dad with the GEV.” The boy rolled his eyes. Then… “Seriously though. Putting it back together like that…. that was incredible, Technus. Thank you for fixing this.” 
“Pst.” The ghost shrugged off the thanks. “It was child’s play!” He laughed almost maniacally.
“Can you uh… put back the rest of the office?” The assistant asked meekly.
Technus’ eyes flickered to her, briefly looking disappointed, before he scoffed. “Can I put the rest of the office back?” He waved his arms, green light again spreading and enveloping the metal pieces. “Easier than differential calculus. Can I, Technus, master of all things mechanical, put it back? Please.”
The different pieces separated, flying off in seemingly random directions, while the mad scientist mumbled to himself.
Meanwhile, Mr. Jenkins looked up from his car. “I didn’t know you could fix things like this, Technus. Incredible!” He popped open the trunk, gaze flickering over the various parts. “She’s as good as new.” He reached inside, tapping something. “Say. One of the new tow-trucks is acting squirrely. Some kind of malfunction with that fancy new, space-age onboard computers. Can’t make head ‘r tails of it. Take a look and maybe I can find some spare parts for you to tinker with.”
Parts continued to swirl away, the car-crusher growing smaller and smaller. Technus tapped his chin. “Is this a problem worthy of I! Technus’ vast expertise!?”
For a moment, both Mr. Jenkins and his assistant looked worried, concerned eyes searching Danny. 
The ghost boy nodded sagely. “Of course! Computer technology is so advanced now. Especially in cars! They definitely need someone as genius as you to fix it. Plus free parts!” The half ghost spread his arms. “You can’t pass up a deal like that!”
“You’re right, Ghost Child!” With a final flourish, the last remnants of the disastrous car crusher vanished, the components returning to their proper places. “Come Jenkins!” The mad scientist quickly floated away. “Show me this tow-truck!”
“Not so fast! We mere humans can’t fly!” The human man jogged after. 
Danny gave another chuckle at the pair. He flew after them. 
“Here it is.” Mr. Jenkins panted, motioning to the car. He unlocked the door and slid into the seat. “The problem is, anytime I start up the car…” He pressed the ignition. “See?”
The ghost nodded from where he leaned over, observing. “Ah! That is confounding! First, let me try…”
The half ghost watched two for several minutes. His eyes slowly widened, anxious core lossening. The two talked and hypothesized, bouncing ideas off of each other.
“Try it again.” Technus instructed.
Mr. Jenkins pressed the start button again. A pause. “Well, I’ll be.”
The mad scientist laughed. “I told you, old geezer. No electronical problem can overcome my genius!”
The human rolled his eyes, good naturedly. “Old geezer? Ya didn’t know what a computer was until last month.”
They were… getting along? “This is great! See.” Danny gave an encouraging smile and spread his arms. “Technus can help you out with stuff like this and you can give him some spare parts to work with. How does that sound, Mr Jenkins? Technus?”
The human tapped his chin. “You know, my brother’s got an auto shop. He’s always needin’ help. Maybe we can work something out.”
“I’m listening…” The green-skinned ghost nodded, face serious. Even as his aura flickered excitedly.
“I’ll give Perry a call and…”
The two talked for a few more minutes. Hope bloomed in Danny’s heart, a smile slowly parting his lips. They had this. Coming up with a compromise together. Without him. In fact…
The ghost boy turned to leave. “I’m going to go check on your assistant and everything in the office. Shout if you need me.”
The two barely acknowledged him, simply waving as they both chuckled over something. 
Danny flew away, shaking his head. Moments later, he knocked at the office door. “It’s Phantom.”
There was a shout to enter and the boy did so. His eyes flickered over the room. Slightly disarrayed but… there was the microwave, the phone, the computer.
The assistant looked up from the desk. “Mr. Jenkins is okay, right? I haven’t heard any screaming recently.”
Danny laughed. “Yeah, he’s fine. Him and Technus are working out tech-help for spare parts.”
The woman blanched. “Is that wise?”
The boy nodded. “Giving the guy something to focus on will be good for him. And I’m sure Mr. Jenkins could use the help.”
The assistant’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I guess you have a point.” Her face smoothed out, smiling gratefully at him. “Thank you, by the way, for coming and helping with all this.” 
“It’s just what I do.” Danny shrugged. “No big deal.”
 “Seriously. This all wouldn’t still be standing without you.” She motioned around her vaguely. “We’d be in a mess without you, Phantom.”
“Well then…” The boy blushed at the praise. “You’re welcome… uh, I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Nancy.” She smiled.
“Nancy.” Danny gave a nod. “Everything’s good here so I’m going to head out. Give FentonWorks a call if you need anything.”
“I will.” 
With a wave, the half ghost drifted up and phased through the ceiling. He flew over the salvage yard, catching a glimpse of the two men, one human and one ghost. Mr. Jenkins leaned against the vehicle, arms crossed casually. Technus floated, head lifted to the sky. His unique brand of laughter carried on the wind, the human’s hearty chuckle just as real and vibrant below it.
Danny beamed down at the scene. “Yeah. They’re going to be fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Danny returned home to his ghost researcher parents, both proudly congratulating him on peacefully dealing with Technus. After which of course, both had to blather on about their latest inventions. The boy fondly rolled his eyes.
He tried to invisibly sneak up on his big sister, the super-powered little brother’s prerogative. To his chagrin, he was unsuccessful though; before he could even think of turning her chair intangible, she turned the spray bottle on him like he was a misbehaving cat. 
He logged onto Doom and played with his best friends. The boss of the current level decimated their party three times before they gave up for now and started on a new side quest. All the while, they talked about new movies, rumors and gossip at school, Ember’s upcoming concert, and convincing Sidney to join them for D&D.
Family and friends. Ghosts and humans and the two somehow, miraculously existing together. All this and more, in a day in the life of a half ghost. 
And now, during the darkest part of the night, that eerie time between the late night and early morning, the Haunting Hour. Now, Danny Fenton-Phantom floated on his back, suspended in the air above the Ops Center.
Blobby snuggled against him, tiny paws kneading biscuits into his side. The smaller ghost purred loudly, now firmly settled into something between a very cat-like blob and a blob-like cat. The boy gently stroked his pet, idly scrolling through his phone. 
A text notification pinged and Danny laughed, typing back.
Danny: that’s the most cursed meme i’ve ever seen
Another cursed follow up. And another. Danny snorted, sending his own.
Tucker: 😵 ☠️ Deed. Y u stil up thoigh?
Danny: Dude it’s spooky hour. Getting my haunt on.
Tucker: U lucky basterd. Ony need 4 hrs of skeep
Danny: 😜 Y r u still up?
Tucker: Doom. newd new armor. 
Tucker: 😵 stupd skelton killed me😭
Danny: Go to sleep!
Tucker: Neverrttt5454er66wreeqwsd
Danny: ?
Tucker: dropped phome on my face
Tucker: maybe i shoud slep
Danny: You think? 🤨
Tucker: One more meme!
Tucker: Phantomceiling.mov
Tucker: wrong file. 😴🥱😫 Sry. Gd night Danny
Danny laughed softly, shaking his head at his sleepy friend. He could imagine it, Tucker half-way across town, drifting off at his computer, gaming with one hand and texting with the other. No wonder the skeletons, the freaking easiest monster in the game, managed to kill him. 
And he sent a random video? Danny tilted his head at the file name, pressing play.
“Woah!” Tucker’s excited voice cheered. 
The camera shifted wildly, a blurry tan surface covering the screen. The crispness of the image wavered, in and out until…. tiny, glow-in-the-dark stars shifted into focus. On the… ceiling? Why did Tucker have a video of his bedroom ceiling?
“I can’t even believe this, I’m floating!” This friend’s voice cheered. 
The half ghost’s eyes widened, suddenly remembering. This video, the one Tucker made while swinging from the ceiling. Meaning….
The image titled, pointed directly above and…  Black suit, white hair, sparkling green eyes paned into view. Danny felt his heart squeeze.
“Say hi, Danny.” Tucker laughed. 
“Hi Danny.” The ghost stuck out his tongue, giving a wave.
“Hi Phantom.” The boy smiled softly, waving back.
This video… he’d forgotten about it completely. Hadn’t even realized they had any video from when he was split, all those months ago. And now…
On the screen, Tucker grunted in effort, Phantom’s face deceptively even, eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.
And now, Danny could remember it like it was yesterday. His feet planted firmly on the ceiling, one hand in Tucker’s, his familiar weightlessness spread through the contact. That was him, trying to hold back his laughter. And yet… 
“Come… on.” His friend shouted in frustration. “Come on!” Two voices burst out in laughter, one higher pitched- obviously Sam. And the other….
The camera panned. Black hair, blue eyes pinched closed, mouth open with his laughter.
“Hi, Fenton.” His eyes crinkled, a fond mirth.
Danny remembered this too. Busting a gut at a constipated-looking Tucker, bent over with his chortles, Sam rolling her eyes at his comment. That was him. And yet…
After re-fusing, it had felt like he’d been asleep for a long time. Like he hadn’t really been present; it was all a dream. And yet, he had been right there. He remembered everything. It was like he told Jazz, all those months ago. He was Phantom and Fenton. Fenton and Phantom had been him. And yet he, the Danny thinking this thought, hadn’t really been there. But now….
The video continued, the camera passed around as Tucker cheered, swinging like a pendulum. As Sam had her turn, laughing hysterically the entire time. As Jazz screamed to be put down, before admitting that it wasn’t so bad. All the while, Danny chuckled at the scene. His smile grew, something soft and precious and fond.
“Wait… how?” Tucker wrinkled his brow. “I don’t get it.”
“He’s tapping into our powers.” Phantom righted himself in the air. “I mean, I’m the ghost so I’m technically the one with the powers right now. But we’re still the same person.”
“So I can kinda use them if we’re touching.” Fenton explained. “I uhh… actually turned myself intangible last night, when Phantom did it and I was touching him.”
The video ended there, Fenton and Phantom side by side. The human’s brow wrinkled in thought. The ghost mid-nod, agreeing. 
And Danny’s heart squeezed, something nostalgic. “Guys. We made it.” A finger brushed the screen. As if he could reach back to then and reassure both halves of himself. “We made it.” 
Danny remembered that day where it started. Sitting with his friends, his burger falling through his hands. That was the final straw, the moment that changed everything. It led to his fateful decision to go through the ghost catcher. A bad decision but it had left him all the better. It had taught him many hard won lessons, changing the way he saw his friends, his parents, and most importantly himself.
And those lessons…. Danny remembered, his dream the night he re-merged.
“I’m going to be okay.” A soft, swirling gratitude. “I won’t forget what I learned when I was you guys. I’ll remember.” 
Danny hadn’t forgotten. He’d come back to himself, like finally coming home. And he’d found that he was more. More than just Phantom plus Fenton. More than just human plus ghost. 
Letting out a sigh, the ghost boy lowered himself in the air, down to the roof of the Ops Center. To the camping chair left out here for his nightly star gazing. Blobby curled into his lap, the halfa giving gentle pets. His head drifted up, towards the sky.
And he let himself remember his last night as two halves of himself. 
Danny closed his eyes and he was back there. Sitting side by side. Pointing out constellations and telling stories, one arm around his other half. And at the same time, drifting off to sleep to the echoing voice, his body comfortably leaned against the familiar chilly presence.
“Hey, I’m very witty. You just happen to share my brain.” The ghost grinned, roughly ruffling his counterpart’s hair. “Can’t get one over on you, can I?”
“I’m the pun master.” Fenton chuckled, leaning into the touch.
“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.” Phantom teased.
A chuckle at the memory. Seeing this from both sides really shouldn’t make sense. Yet it couldn’t be more clear…
“I love you too.” The human muttered, rolling his eyes.
The ghost stilled, his free hand dropping out of the black hair. His core squeezed, jovial teasing giving way to a soft and quiet joy. The tiredness radiated off of his other self, heavy enough that he was starting to get silly. But those words…. Every syllable was real. 
Phantom breathed. Teasing and joking was familiar, comfortable even. He was even used to transparency, tender honesty. But this…. The arm still around his human half tightened, his free arm circling around Fenton’s front. He had said earlier, if they had anything else to say to each other while they were still split, they should say it.
Ghost Danny completed the hug. “I do love you.”
Back on the roof, Danny’s hand tenderly rested over his heart-core. Maybe if anyone else had seen that moment, he’d feel embarrassed, ashamed. But that moment was just for him. That same soft and quiet joy rose, quivering in his chest. Splitting himself had let Danny see himself in new ways. He’d learned so much. He’d grown to know, accept, appreciate, and, yes, love both halves of himself. As strange as it was to say, Fenton and Phantom had loved each other. 
An overbearing gratitude washed over him at that. Gratitude that they (that he) had been brave enough to voice that, to give him this memory. This proof, this reminder of how far he’d come. Of all he’d learned. 
He had suffered and struggled and agonized. He had fought with his own self-hatred and doubt, his shame and fear, with the painful reminders of his death. But with the love and support of his parents, sister, and friends, he had overcome. He had learned and grown and changed. The transformation itself hurt and terrified him. But he had risen above it. And now. Now Danny loved who he had become.
And who had he become? What did loving himself mean now, with his heart and core nestled together, where they belonged? It meant taking care of himself. Letting his friends and family know him and love him. Loving other people. It meant eating enough– both ecto and regular food-, sleeping well, watching the stars during his Haunting Hour. Spending time with his loved ones and letting them share his burdens. Helping others as Danny Phantom.
He saved humans in the town with his powers when ghost animals appeared or over-enthusiastic ghosts wouldn’t listen. He helped lost ghosts find their way back to the portal. He worked to find ways for humans and ghosts to exist together.
The idea from when he’d been talking to Sidney earlier flickered in his mind. A shared place for the ghosts on this side of the portal to gather, to bond, to help each other. A kind of Sanctuary, that was his dream.
That first time he’d almost fused, before telling his parents about Phantom, he’d dreamed of the human in the ghostly, ghostly in the human. He’d imagined truly being both. And now Danny found he was. The life he wanted was here, in the life he was building.
Danny unlocked his phone again, taking the image of Fenton and Phantom side by side. “We’ve come so far.” His eyes softened, full of awe and gratitude. “I said it before, in that dream. I’m happy I was both of you. And thank you for working to grow into who I am now.” 
In his lab, Blobby mewed, head jerking up at something in the sky. The half ghost looked, eyes widening. A shooting star, streaming across the vibrantly deep sky. 
His core fluttered in time with his heart, swelling with hope. Danny smiled. “Here’s to whatever comes next.”
Note: Thank you all for reading! Whether you joined me at the beginning back in 2019, you started following only recently, or you're binging at some point in the future, I appreciate you! I would never have written this story, let alone finished it, without all the kind comments on here and fanfiction.net, Tumblr reblogs and rambles in the tags, and DMs on Tumblr and Discord. If you ever talked to me about this story, offered your support and encouragement, I am so thankful to you. I am so thankful for the friendships I've found through this fic and for how much I've grown as a writer.
As always, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and the story as a whole. I love and appreciate you all!
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alinasteelcrest · 23 days ago
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2, 5 and 8 for alina? ☺️
Hehe thank youuuuuu <3 OC Ask Game
2. What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private) This is like. One of the only ones I didn't already have written up for her LMAO
Alina NEEDS to be presentable. Like. forever and ever. She wakes up, washes her face, and moisturizes. And then she brushes her hair endlessly like Rapunzel. She tries not to over-complicate things when she doesn't have to. Comfortable clothing, no makeup except eyeliner and lip balm, no 10 step skincare routine. (But she could.) Sunscreen is a must ☝️ She burns easily and too much sun is bad for your skin. She normally just leaves her hair down at home, maybe opting for a casual bun or ponytail if she's working in the stable, but for her job she'll do something more elaborate, like those "messy y/n ponytail"s that take half an hour to figure out. She takes care of herself, and she uses expensive products that do their job so she looks nice.
Also her shampoo/conditioner/body wash smells very subtly like apples and berries btw. Needs to be said. 5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.) Alina cries all of the time over everything. She is easily overwhelmed.
It could have been because she misses her dad, or because the Keepers of Aideen pissed her off, or because Ydris pissed her off, or because she hates Jorvik and wants to go home, or because she had a nightmare about Five Nights at Freddy's again. Anything. She'll probably be crying again within the next few days.
8. Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.) Very neat, but very cozy. The wooden furniture is colour-coordinated and the bedding matches the rug. There's fairy lights above the bed (which is massive) and a shelf with plushies on it (they'd be tucked in with her if she didn't have a dog… and a pony…) A few pillows, comfortable mattress, expensive sheets, big comfy blanket (or a thin soft one for when it's warm out). She makes the bedding every morning and absolutely demolishes it every night because she lets the pony sleep with her. DEFINITELY has band posters on the walls btw. MCR Danger Days album cover and the iconic Evanescence image. Probably a painting lovingly created by Wynn, who has no hands and so who brutalized the canvas <3
At her father's house her bedroom looks very similar, but there's also a second room attached, with one of those translucent princess curtains surrounding the bed, and it's COMPLETELY crowded with stuffed animals, some of which, when she's visiting home, will occasionally get the highest honor of chilling in her actual bed.
ETA: I haven't been able to access my sims account unfortunately, otherwise I'd build Alina's house down to the last speck of dust, but I do have a couple little bedrooms I made for her using a picrew by Weewa_Art and rooms.xyz ! Neither are super accurate due to limitations of the sites lol, but both still feel very lovely and homey to me hehe 🥰
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