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caramelcleopatraa · 6 months

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Needy

pairings : Roman Reigns x Black/Shy Reader

plot : you are having a calm night in while roman is on the road. while watching one of his matches, you start to get hot and bothered. Unbeknownst to you, he's already come back from his trip.

wc : 1,800~

x : a drabble I came up with a few days ago. shouts out to the lovely @harmshake for motivating me to post this / excuse any errors that you see :( I've practically been writing all day.

In all honesty, you weren’t a needy person. “I never need, I always want” was the motto that your friends came up with that perfectly describes you. You’ve always taken what you got and never complained, no matter the circumstances. Sure, you knew your boundaries and what you loved to see, hear, and experience. But you never found yourself asking for more of someone or something. So you questioned yourself on why you were lying in your bed, lightly massaging your folds, trying to string together incoherent thoughts and words, with the image of Roman replacing all thoughts in your mind.

Let's back track

It’s a calm Friday afternoon. You finally got a day off from your job, and you weren’t going to do jack. shit. Instead of being productive, your day is filled with the smell of popcorn, and the large tv in your living room playing a show you kept promising your friend you’d give a try. You took the time you had to catch up on everything, in fact. You already decided that this whole weekend would be you catching up on shows and anime you are majorly behind on. Meanwhile, Roman is still on the road with his cousin and the wiseman, which is something that you grew used to. He was scheduled to come back on Sunday, so you were left with an empty house. You loved the off chances you got an empty house though. But your mind couldn’t help but think about how he’s been doing. Which led to you going on peacock and rewatching his crown jewel match with LA Knight. You were always his number one supporter. You honestly loved watching your man work, commanding and demanding with every step inside the ring.

You can’t help yourself as your eyes drift over his bronzed torso. His broad shoulders, his beautiful arms, and his sturdy hands. You observed him as he took his time toying with his opponent and the audience, always flashing his irresistible smirk. You find yourself shifting on the couch to get comfortable, and fidgeting with your ring, trying to give your hands something to do. As soon as you get comfortable and lift your head to look at the screen, Roman has Knight in a headlock while smugly smiling and saying “I call the shots. I call the shots baby.” Your thighs unconsciously rub together at his baritone voice. You missed hearing his voice. On the other side of the house, next to you on the couch, directly in your ear. Of course you miss him. You couldn’t go a day without missing his presence, his hypnotizing and tempting presence.

Your hands slowly rub your thighs as you watch the match transpire. You adjusted yourself one last time, letting your thighs part under your fur blanket. You tease yourself by running your hands from your knee to your inner thigh, never taking your eyes off the screen. You didn’t dare to look away. An exhale you didn’t know you were holding exited you as your fingers slowly ghosted over your clothed heat. You continue letting your fingers lightly feather against your core, until your finger presses against your shorts, resulting in a small gasp. You started to make your way to your pulsing clit, rubbing yourself through your shorts. Your hips move and grind to match the pace you were setting, along with small mewls and whimpers that left your mouth while roman raised his title in front of the crowd. You always found it sexy when he did anything with his title. Him swinging his belt, him showing it off by raising it above his head, him caressing and adjusting it. Hell, even him just putting it on did something to you.

Your right hand stayed busy on your clit while your left hand trailed up your body to your breasts. Softly kneeling them and pinching your nipples, like he would. You wanted to call him. see him, hear him, anything. You felt around the couch for your phone and clicked his contact to facetime him. Your phone laid propped up on your coffee table decor while you impatiently waited for your sexy ass man to answer.

Facetime Failed

Fuck

You reached out to call again, but you stopped yourself. You figured there was a good reason why he wasn’t picking up. He was always one to answer his phone. To say the least, you were horny. Honestly embarrassed that seeing him in a match made you such a mess. You grabbed your phone and pranced upstairs to your room. You settled comfortably in your shared bed while you picked up where you left off. You didn’t even need the tv to encourage you anymore. You were already imagining what he was going to do to you when he got home. How his calloused hands would caress you gently before pinning you to the bed. How he would lick and suck every inch of your body. The daydreams in your head made you dizzy with arousal. The first time you ever felt needy. To say that you wanted him was an understatement. You needed him here, laying beside you, touching you, kissing you, fucking you.

Your hands worked to pull your shorts and your panties off, discarding them somewhere around the room. Your fingers impatiently rubbed your clit and massaged your slick folds. Soft moans occupy the space around you, making the tension in the room rise. Your fingers gravitate to your pussy and easily slips through your folds. Your hands are already setting the pace that makes you go crazy, as you could no longer try to stay quiet. A second finger is added and your hips buck to meet your fingers halfway. “mmmh fuck”, Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you go faster, using your other hand to rub your aching clit. You were already so worked up, that you could cum at any moment. “aaahh- oh shit!” You tease yourself, playing with the place and adding little slaps to your clit, just like he does. Your stomach starts to tighten, and your well formed words become babbles and whines. Normally you would be ashamed that you got to this point all by yourself, but you didn’t care. You craved this feeling more than anything, and you were willing to chase it. “oooohhh- fuck i miss you babbyy. uughh shit i’m cominngg!” Your back arches off the mattress as you feel yourself getting close. Your body starts to shake and your pussy tightens around your fingers as you cum. A mix of screams and whines leave your mouth as you start to feel high from the orgasm you just had. Your chest visibly rises up and down, desperately trying to catch your breath.

“Damn mama, you miss me that badly?” A voice that you know too damn well. You quickly sit up and see your husband leaning on the door frame, wearing his irresistible smirk. You’re fumbling to try and cover up what just happened, not knowing it was too late for that. ‘What do I tell him? What lie can I make up that makes sense in this situation?’ Mentally you’re freaking out, but you’re wearing the same surprised smile since he announced himself. “umm- how are you- you were supposed to be back on sunday- umm- shit, is today sunday?” Your sentence were cutting off one another. You nervously giggled while pretending to look for your phone. To no surprise, he caught your bluff immediately. “Sweetheart, I don't know why you’re shy. I’ve already seen everything under those covers.” He said seductively, walking towards the bed to join you.

The bed dips as he slides next to you, teasing you with a smile as he closes the gap between you two. “So, what’s got my wife all hot and bothered? hmm?” He chuckles while lightly stroking your face. You almost forget that he asked you a question and melt into his touch. Your eyes shy away from him as you answer “just missed you, that’s all”. His hand comfortably wraps around your neck as he inches closer once more, pulling you into an intoxicating kiss. Your lips moved in harmony with his. It started off gentle, interrupting long kisses with playful pecks. Roman’s grip on your neck loosens and his hands rest on your full hips, pulling you to his body and deepening the kiss. Your arms snake up his body and around his neck, removing all options to back out. His lips trail down to your jaw and slowly inches towards your neck, his warm breath coast over your neck before harshly sucking on your sweet spot. You bit your lip in hopes that you could silence your moans, but roman wasn't having that. Roman’s right hand kept you in place while his left hand snaked down the small of your back down to your plush ass. The combination of him squeezing your ass and sucking on your neck made you go crazy.

You couldn’t hold back your moans anymore, he was making you feel too good. “Missed hearing you baby.” He said breathily, watching you unwind from his touch. Your leg hooked onto his as you grinded against his length, making a mess on his pants under the sheets. He pulled away to observe the marks he gave you as you stared at him in awe. You could never get over how beautiful he was. His hands slipped under your arms to your back to unhook your bra and pulled it off you to expose your chest. You were completely naked, but felt bold. Your small hands pushed his shoulders down to lay flat on the bed. You took the opportunity to straddle him, tracing down his arms and guiding them around your body, caging you in. Your faces were barely an inch away from each other. You lose yourself in your husband’s facial features, scanning every part of him. You catch eyes lingering on his beard. His salt and pepper beard always caught your attention. He catches you staring at him and you were unable to stop him before he made a smart remark. “You like it?” He smiled, showing off his pearly whites. Your eyes connected with his chocolate ones. You felt needy again, he didn’t have to do much and yet, you felt like you needed more of him. “Like what?” You said, mirroring his smile and lightly giggling. He followed suit, chuckling along with you, his laugh vibrating through his chest. “You’re staring at it like you like it mama.” You felt your heart flutter at the nickname. You were experiencing so many feelings at once. You wanted to make him feel what you were feeling. You wanted to make him feel good. You started to roll your hips against him again, earning a deep groan from him as you kept eye contact with him.

“How ‘bout i show you how much i like it?”

( so I was thinking about making this a part one and a part two. later on, would post the full version of this. I just wanted to post this as my first "long fic". lemme know what you guys want me to write next lovelies 🪴🤎

~ your hippie author )

#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x chubby reader

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soapskneebrace · 3 months

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same anon who sent the ask abt price: MW3's writing was embarrassing tbh. i agree 100% that narratively, its the most logical and sensible for price to be the one who takes the fall. what you wrote i flat out completely agree with, and its deeply disappointing that we are stuck with an extremely poorly written and rushed story. the game was a hot steamy pile. everyone was slightly out of character, they all growled their lines like mad dogs, and the missions were ass. i cant believe no one talks about the mission where you get anti arab hate crimed. what was that??? what was the reason??? (the only thing i liked about that game were the 9 minutes of nikolai. i just find him entertaining.) i was replaying mw2019 while super high and got to the mission where you threaten the butchers wife and son and just thought to myself; that lady and that kid are gonna have nightmares about price for the rest of their lives. that room is going to come back to them again and again and again. they literally did nothing wrong except the crime of being the butchers family. what price and gaz did is never going to leave them, and gaz was right to question price on that. of course, the game doesn't care at all. they're disposable NPCS for a shock value scene. i dunno, the fact that the game doesn't really give a fuck, and seemingly even condones what happened, just kinda hit different and i had to put the game down for the evening. i guess that hit at that moment bc i had also read a fic a bit earlier where the reader was price's civvy gf and gets kidnapped by his enemies. it bent my brain a bit bc, the thing in the fic is literally a canon event perpetuated by price, portrayed as a good thing by the source material, that now price is the victim of. it was a very weird feeling for my weed addled brain to try and process. think i blue screened actually. i wanna put price in a jar and shake him vigorously. pin him to a board like a entomology insect. i want to bite him. i do love him i swear. but maybe make him actually face a single real consequence for his war crimes? (disappointing that it will never happen on screen bc these games are all gas no breaks outright propaganda. not to mention real war crimes are happening constantly in front of everyone's eyes and going completely unpunished) sorry this is really long, i have no one to talk to abt these games and i dont understand my feelings toward that British man

Yeah. The thing about Price is that he's not a good person in the slightest. We write fiction about the kind of man he can be--the best version of himself, a version we can all stomach--but the real Price is distinct from that, and the best people in this fandom recognize that.

Soap and Ghost have some plausible deniability simply because we haven't seen them doing anything other than action movie stuff. Gaz is on the road to becoming Price--Price is doing his damndest to turn Gaz into himself--but he isn't there yet. (@391780 did a GREAT analysis of the driving scene in mw19 and how Price subtly manipulates Gaz, but I can't find it.)

EDIT: Early kindly provided.

We, as the audience, are not actually supposed to worry that much about the Butcher's family, because Price is one of the Good Guys who would never let something Bad actually happen. Infinity Ward does not take the Butcher's family seriously, and does not want us to take the family seriously, because they are just a convenient vehicle with which to move the plot along. Their presence is, in the end, shock value. We are meant to stare, wide-eyed, wondering is Price really going to go that far? while in the back of our minds knowing of course he's not, because he's our hero. He's just doing whatever it takes. The family is not meant to be anything other than fodder for Price's characterization.

Same with Samara. We are not supposed to care all that much about her, personally--we're supposed to marvel over Makarov's canny brutality, his bRiLLiANcE in recognizing the obvious fact that an Arab woman would make a perfect scapegoat for a plane bombing. Samara does not matter to MW3. Only the shocking way she dies. None of these Arab characters matter to Call of Duty--only the entertainment value of their pain.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I am reminded of when Price threw a man restrained into a bomb jacket off a balcony, with not a shred of remorse afterword. I'm forced to ask the question--who would Price scapegoat, then, if he felt justified enough?

And yeah, he's never going to suffer the consequences of his actions, because Infinity Ward doesn't think he's actually done anything wrong. We throw the word propaganda around a lot without actually defining it, but Price is emblematic of how the propaganda of Call of Duty works. Price does something reprehensible, and is shown to be justified in doing it--implying that real men like him are justified, too, because don't you understand how little choice Price had? Don't you get that there's no good choice to be made? This is how he has to act, and this is how all soldiers have to act, because war is a dirty business, and someone needs to be willing to do it for the benefit of the ignorant public.

The question of why any of this should be happening at all is never asked.

#answered

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bbobpul · 6 months

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maybe it's a good thing — x. minghao

NOTE. this is not an email! i will put the series on hold since i don't want it to be rushed and end terribly. i want to give each member justice and make their characters well-written so take this minghao oneshot as a little compensation. not proofread.

PAIRING. artist!the8 x singer!reader

GENRE. hurt/comfort, angst (as usual)

SYNOPSIS. a struggling singer and a talented artist, xu minghao, cross paths every evening at a lively local bar

W/C. 5k

WARNINGS. language alluding to death

messy masterlist/navigation

you stand backstage watching the audience as the shattered glasses, muffled talk, and distant hum of conversation all come together to create a cacophonous melody. as you watch, crowds of people gather in front of the dimly lit stage, the spotlight shining a tantalizing glow on the artists who have graced it with their presence throughout the course of the night.

a close friend had approached you a few nights before asking for help. they scheduled a friday night concert at your town's beloved local bar, and they needed a last-minute performer. not only did the owner of the pub offer you a huge payout, but you also pledged to help out a friend in need.

your heart was racing with a mix of excitement and dread as you found yourself pacing back and forth behind the heavy drapes as the hours went by. being in front of a large audience is thrilling yet nerve-wracking at the same time because you've always felt more at ease in smaller and more intimate settings.

there is an electrifying feeling in the pub, even though you are trying to hide from the audience's probing eyes. vibrations of laughter and cheers fill the room, interspersed with the inevitable accident when bottles of beer shatter on the polished wooden floor. its peculiar scent blend—which perfectly captures the ambiance of this local hangout—combines the rich scent of pub food with the lingering smell of booze.

the faint echoes of the preceding act's music can be heard backstage; each chord has a unique magnitude that has fired up everyone in attendance. there's an indescribable feeling of adrenaline in the air, and as you take a deep breath and get ready to step onto the stage for the night's final act, you know that this will be an unforgettable event no matter how it turns out.

you were placed back in reality when the event organizer tapped your shoulder and whispered, “you’re up next.”

you nodded your head as a response and gripped the strap of your guitar before taking a deep breath. affirmations ran through your head as you walked to the middle of the stage. you sat on the stool, placed your guitar comfortably on your lap, and began to play the first few strokes of the strings that caused the audience to scream and cheer for you.

it was overwhelming for you, to say the least. it’s your first time performing infront of a huge crowd. normally, it would just be you playing at a relative's birthday or some stranger’s funeral but never at a place like this. it was electrifying.

your eyes were trying their hardest to find a familiar face in the room, watching and listening to you as you sung the lyrics of the song you had chosen to perform, but you failed yourself when you realized they were all strangers. it wasn't an issue for you. rather, your gaze fell on this one person, and you began observing him without realizing it. he's not paying attention very closely. unlike other people in the audience, he didn't seem as drawn to the performance on stage; instead, it seemed as like he was living in his own bubble with your voice playing in the background. he was, instead, doodling something on a piece of brown tissue paper.

he held your interest. except for him, everyone else was staring at you. he was enjoying his own time as if he was the only one in the room. of course, you don't think that everyone would be watching you, but there was something about him that made you look at him after each verse and bridge you sang that evening.

you thanked them and said you wanted to see them again another evening as you concluded the three songs you had prepared. when you turned to face his table again, you noticed that the man had already left and that it was vacant and spotless. not a glimpse of the tissue paper he had been sketching on before. as soon as you got off the stool and went back behind the stage, people began to make their way towards the exit as well.

"you did so well!" your friend, seokmin, said, beaming with admiration, as you slung your guitar bag over your shoulder. you glared at him and playfully smacked his arm.

"i was looking for you earlier!" you replied, knitting your eyebrows and pouting when he laughed at your mock anger.

"i was watching you backstage!" he defended himself, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"you know, i was fuming earlier since you were the one who invited me here, and yet you weren't even in the audience," you said, a touch of mock annoyance in your voice.

"okay, don't be mad now. you'll get wrinkles. calm your brows," seokmin teased, his laughter filling the air as you both shared a lighthearted moment after your performance.

"oh, by the way! the owner said he'll send the money directly to your account. he also mentioned giving you a bonus if you come here again next friday. what do you say?" seokmin asked, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you, eagerly awaiting your response.

"sure, why not? i'm free next friday," you replied with a smile, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of performing again.

"that's good to hear!" seokmin said, his enthusiasm matching yours.

"you better be in the audience next friday. i was dead nervous earlier," you teased seokmin, trying to hide the lingering nerves from your voice with a playful tone.

"yeah, yeah! you should head home now, hun. there won't be any cabs around past 2 am. i still need to close up the bar, so you should head home first," seokmin urged, showing concern for your safety and well-being after a successful but late-night performance.

you bid your goodbyes to seokmin and stepped outside the bar, the cool night air offering a refreshing contrast to the vibrant energy you had just left behind.

as you stood at the side of the road, it felt as if you could still hear the echoes of the cheers and applause from your earlier performance. your heart continued to race, and the thrill of the moment lingered in the cool night air. you inhaled deeply, the cold breeze providing a soothing contrast to the excitement that still pulsed within you, as you waited for a taxi to pass by and take you home.

the pub was situated in a quiet, almost desolate alley, likely to minimize disturbances to the other residents in the area. unfortunately, this meant that very few vehicles frequented the road, especially at the late hour of 2:30 am. as you stood there, you realized that hailing a taxi might take longer than you had initially thought, adding an extra layer of challenge to your journey home.

you let out a sigh and began to reflect, realizing that this night wasn't as flawless as you had initially imagined it to be. however, there was no pressing need to hurry back home, for your house was a solitary sanctuary. there was no one waiting for you there, as you lived alone, except for the friendly stray cat that you often found nestled beside your bedroom window.

you were startled out of your thoughts as a strong, blinding light suddenly illuminated the alley. blinking away the temporary blindness, you turned to see a sleek, black hellcat redeye not too far from where you stood. the car began to roll slowly in your direction, and the driver honked the horn when it came to a stop in front of you. crouching slightly to look through the window, you were taken aback to see the same guy you had noticed sketching earlier in the evening. the unexpected encounter added another surreal layer to an already eventful night.

"need a ride?" he asked, his words careful and gentle, as if he were making an effort not to come across as too forward or strange. his concern was evident in his tone.

"yeah," you replied, your voice slightly shaky from the chill of the night. "obviously," you added under your breath, feeling the cold seep into your bones, grateful for the unexpected but timely offer of a ride.

“get in, —.” he said, using your stage name to address you with a gentle smile, a touch of familiarity in his demeanor.

"thank you," you said, the gratitude evident in your voice as you fastened your seatbelt.

he hummed in response, starting the car and preparing to drive.

"where to?" he asked, his eyes briefly meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

"oh, 17 apartment complex. it's pretty far from here. i'm sorry," you explained, feeling a twinge of guilt for the inconvenience.

"no, it's totally okay with me. i don't live very far from your building anyways," he reassured you, his tone warm and accommodating. you settled back in your seat, grateful for his understanding and the unexpected company on your way home.

the first few minutes of the ride were filled with a certain awkwardness. he kept himself occupied by humming along to the tune playing on the local radio, his eyes occasionally darting to the road ahead.

“what’s your name?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“i’m —, you?”

“minghao. how old are you, —?”

“i’m 25.”

"oh, i'm a year older than you then," he replied with a friendly smile, a subtle connection forming as you exchanged this small piece of personal information.

the exchange of personal information had a surprising effect, gradually melting the initial awkwardness in the car. minghao's sense of humor emerged, and he started cracking jokes throughout the long drive home. you found yourself enjoying the banter, though you had to remind him to keep his eyes on the road a few times. the conversation flowed so naturally that it almost felt like you had known each other for ages.

curiosity about why he hadn't seemed attentive during your performance earlier crossed your mind, but in the warmth of the moment, with him right beside you on the drive home, the question seemed less pressing. you were content to let the night unfold at its own pace, and you appreciated the newfound camaraderie that had unexpectedly come into your life.

"thanks again!" you said with a warm smile on your face as you stepped out of minghao's car.

"see you again some other time. go inside now. it's cold," he advised, a caring tone in his voice. you nodded in agreement, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

you entered the building and turned back to look once the automatic glass door of the building closed shut. minghao's car was just starting to pull away, disappearing into the night, leaving you with a sense of gratitude for the serendipitous encounter and a newfound friendship that had brightened your evening in the most unexpected way.

your friday evenings fell into a comfortable rhythm, with your performances at the local pub becoming a regular highlight of the week. minghao continued to be a dedicated audience member, offering you a ride home after each show. eventually, your interactions extended beyond the confines of the friday routine, as you both decided to spend time together on days when your schedules allowed. the bond between you grew stronger, fueled by shared laughter, genuine conversations, and a growing sense of companionship that transcended the confines of the local bar and the friday night performances.

over time, you discovered that minghao was not just an art enthusiast but an accomplished artist in his own right. his talents and dedication to his craft impressed you, and it came as a delightful surprise when he confided that he had an upcoming opportunity to showcase his artwork in a renowned gallery in paris next week.

tonight is just another amazing evening for you, and that sentence carries an entirely different meaning now. a few nights ago, you had entered this local pub with a mix of nervousness and the overwhelming sensation of performing in front of a large crowd, all motivated by the prospect of earning some extra money. however, as the weeks turned into months, you found that you had come to love your evenings at the pub.

the owner, recognizing the growing popularity of the pub's live music, had extended the concert nights to include mondays, wednesdays, and fridays. it was no longer just your fridays, but the entire week had become a delightful series of performances and moments of connection with an audience that had grown to appreciate and support your music.

you had grown to relish the thrill of performing in front of an audience, and the peace and fun that followed each of your shows had become something you eagerly anticipated. what once felt like a daunting task had evolved into a cherished part of your life, a testament to the transformative power of shared experiences and the connections formed on those memorable friday nights.

"hey," seokmin's sudden whisper caught you off guard, interrupting your thoughts as you waited for your turn to perform on stage.

you turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "hey! what's wrong with you?" you asked, unable to contain a playful smirk as you lightly smacked his arm.

"i see you have your own personal driver now, huh?" he teased, earning a playful glare from you in return.

"i don't meddle in your romance with the owner of this pub, so mind your own business," you retorted, a hint of sass in your voice, which only made him laugh even more. the lighthearted banter with your friend helped ease the last-minute nerves as you prepared to take the stage once again.

"so... who is he?" seokmin persisted with his curiosity.

"he's just a friend of mine," you replied, a hint of defensiveness in your tone.

seokmin didn't back down. "i'm asking for his name, not who he is to you," he clarified, clearly interested in the details.

“name is minghao, he’s an artist.”

“minghao? he’s here right now?”

“about that, i don’t know if he could come today since he has a flight tomorrow. he needs his rest, you know?”

“flight to where?”

“paris, he has an event to attend.”

“big time. anyway, you need to get going. the previous act just left the stage.”

with seokmin's reminder, you took a deep breath and made your way to the center of the stage, ready to captivate the audience with your performance. as the spotlight shone upon you, you began to sing, the music filling the air, and the crowd's attention shifting to you, for another memorable evening at the local pub.

throughout your performance, you couldn't help but steal glances at the entrance of the pub, hoping to catch a glimpse of minghao walking in. however, as your performance concluded, he was still nowhere to be seen.

you had already prepared yourself for the likelihood of his absence, but a part of your heart couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment. minghao had become a regular part of your friday routine, and his absence meant that you would be heading home alone, missing the comfort of his presence and the familiar company during the drive back.

you concluded your wednesday performance and bid your goodbye to the audience to your friend, seokmin.

as you stood at the side of the road, waiting for a cab that seemed highly unlikely to pass by, a sense of resignation began to settle in. the cold night air seemed to penetrate deeper as you waited patiently, hoping for some stroke of luck to bring a taxi your way.

just when it felt like your patience might wear thin, you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the unmistakable sight of minghao's black hellcat redeye approaching. the vehicle came to a smooth stop in front of you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and gratitude wash over you.

"i couldn't leave without driving you back home," minghao said with a reassuring smile as you approached the car window. the warmth in his words and the kindness in his eyes instantly put you at ease, and you eagerly hopped into the car, comforted by the knowledge that you wouldn't be braving the chilly night alone. the sense of disappointment that had weighed on you earlier began to dissipate, and you embarked on the drive back home with a grateful heart, appreciating the unexpected friendship that had brightened your life in countless ways.

the night air was crisp, and the streets were nearly deserted as you both continued your journey through the quiet city. minghao's dedication to ensuring you got home safely, despite the early hours and his impending flight, touched you deeply.

"you really shouldn't have. you have a flight to catch, and it's 3 am," you insisted once more, your concern growing for his well-being.

minghao, however, brushed off your worries. "are you kidding me? this is the least i could do for you. i won't be seeing you for a week," he responded with unwavering determination, his eyes briefly leaving the road to meet yours.

"you need to rest, hao," you continued, not wanting him to exhaust himself before his important journey.

"this is rest," he reassured you, turning to look at you once more, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but smile in return.

"eyes on the road," you playfully reminded him, ensuring he stayed focused on the task at hand. the bond you had formed over the past weeks was a source of great comfort to both of you, and the journey back home in the early hours of the morning, despite the upcoming separation, felt like a cherished moment of connection.

the dark, quiet streets rolled by as minghao drove you home, and the solitude of the night created a sense of intimacy between you two. his commitment to driving you back, even when he had an early flight to catch, was a testament to the depth of your friendship.

"don't you worry. after i drive you home, i will head straight to the airport and i will sleep there," minghao reiterated, his voice calm and reassuring.

you couldn't help but offer, "are you sure you don't want to have coffee at my house before you head to the airport?" concern for his well-being tugged at your heart, knowing that he was sacrificing his rest to ensure you got home safely.

minghao's smile was both gentle and resolute as he declined your offer. "no need," he replied, "you should sleep as soon as you get home. i'll be fine." his caring demeanor and genuine concern for your comfort and well-being resonated deeply with you, and you nodded in understanding.

"you are home," minghao said gently, drawing you out of your reverie as you continued to stare at him.

"huh?" you responded, momentarily confused.

"we are here," he clarified, gesturing toward your building.

"oh," you murmured, realizing your distraction, and looked to your right to see your familiar apartment building. "well, thank you for the ride, hao. and good luck in paris."

"thank you. good night," minghao replied with a warm smile before you closed the car door behind you.

just like any other evening, minghao didn't leave until he saw you inside the building. the familiar routine and his unwavering consideration were a comforting friend that you had come to rely on, and as you watched his car drive away, you felt a wave of gratitude for his presence in your life.

entering your unit, you felt far from tired. the drive with minghao had been a peaceful interlude in your life, much like any other evening you spent with him. the sense of comfort and contentment that his presence brought was a cherished part of your routine, a bright spot in your week that had transformed your evenings into moments of warmth, friendship, and music. you couldn't help but reflect on how, from a chance meeting at the local pub, a beautiful friendship had blossomed, filling your life with unexpected joy and connection.

the morning you woke up, it was an ordinary thursday. it began just like any other day, with your familiar routine of going on a peaceful walk, visiting your favorite bakery, and then returning to your apartment to spend the day in peaceful solitude. everything seemed as it usually was.

however, a subtle sense of unease crept in when you realized there was no "good morning" text from minghao. at first, you found it strange, but then it dawned on you that he had a flight today. he always turned his phone to airplane mode during flights, and that was why the expected message was missing.

despite knowing the reason, a slight feeling of emptiness lingered, reminding you of the importance of this daily interaction with your friend. it was a small but significant absence, a reminder of how much minghao had become a part of your daily life, even when he was miles away.

as the hours passed by, you found yourself preoccupied with various activities, but a part of your mind remained fixated on the absence of minghao's messages. then, finally, you noticed his name appearing in your notifications. a wave of relief washed over you, accompanied by a sense of anticipation as you eagerly opened the message, hoping for some news or even a brief update about his journey.

the moment you saw minghao's name appear in your notifications, a surge of joy washed over you, and you couldn't help but express your elation. silently, you let out a muffled scream, as if you were a teenager who had just received a message from their crush. the feeling was overwhelming, and you found yourself rolling on your bed, a giddy smile on your face, relishing the simple yet profound joy of seeing his message.

it was as if the day had suddenly transformed from ordinary to extraordinary, all because of a few lines of text from minghao. the anticipation of hearing from him and the reassurance that he was safely on the other side of the flight were like a warm embrace, filling your heart with a sense of comfort and connection. it was moments like these that made you truly appreciate the friendship you shared and the special place minghao had carved out in your daily life.

“this is a scheduled text. if you received this, i have already landed in paris. i love you, take care.” the message read.

as you read the message from minghao, the words "i love you" leapt out, catching you off guard and leaving you momentarily stunned. the audacity of his heartfelt expression, conveyed through a scheduled text, brought forth a mix of emotions. there was a sense of disbelief at the timing and manner of his declaration, tinged with a hint of annoyance at his boldness to express such sentiments from afar.

yet, despite these conflicting emotions, a warm and giddy feeling enveloped you. his words had a way of transcending the distance between you, bridging the gap created by the physical miles. minghao's unexpected proclamation served as a reminder of the deep bond you shared, one that had blossomed from the simple moments and shared experiences, transforming into a connection that was as sincere as it was unexpected.

just as you were processing minghao's heartfelt message, your phone began to ring, and you were taken completely by surprise when you saw the caller's name – the owner of the pub. this unexpected call brought forth a rush of questions and curiosity, leaving you to wonder what could have prompted this sudden and surprising contact from your boss, joshua hong.

“seokmin said you are friends with minghao. you might want to come to yoon medical center.”

“what?”

the owner's cryptic words and the mention of minghao's name left you in a state of bewilderment. it was as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, and you were struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. what had happened to minghao? why were you being summoned to the medical center? the flood of questions raced through your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

as you rushed to the yoon medical center, the world seemed to blur around you. the streets and buildings became a mere backdrop to your racing thoughts, all focused on minghao's well-being. you couldn't help but replay your last moments with him in your mind, the excitement of his safe arrival in paris now overshadowed by the nagging uncertainty of his current condition. the bond you had shared with him had taken root in your heart, and the fear of losing it, even for a moment, was almost too much to bear.

when you arrived at the medical center, the reality of the situation hit you with full force. the bustling of medical personnel, the hushed conversations, and the sterile scent of the hospital environment all added to the growing sense of dread that clenched at your chest. you couldn't help but wonder what had transpired, and as you made your way through the unfamiliar corridors, the suspense and anxiety intensified, a heavy weight on your shoulders that seemed to grow with every step you took.

the owner of the pub, joshua, explained the grim situation after a few moments of somber silence. "he never made it to the airport," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow. "a drunk driver hit him on the road not too far from your apartment, and doctor yoon said he didn't make it alive at the hospital as there was too much bleeding."

the words hit you like a tidal wave, and your world seemed to shatter in an instant. the shock and disbelief washed over you, leaving you struggling to process the devastating news. minghao, your friend and confidant, who had brightened your evenings and shared in your daily routine, was gone, a victim of a tragic accident that had torn him away from your life.

tears welled up in your eyes, and the weight of grief settled on your heart. the bond you had shared with minghao had grown deeper and more meaningful with each passing day, and now, you were left grappling with the harsh reality of his sudden and untimely departure. the sense of loss was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but feel a profound emptiness in the absence of your friend and the simple yet cherished moments you had shared.

joshua's words resonated deeply, and he continued, "he was also my friend. when he found out about his trip to paris, he told me to give this to you a day before his flight so you'd have something to talk about."

in his hands, joshua held out a piece of brown tissue paper, and as you accepted it, you were met with a moving sight. it was the same brown tissue paper that minghao had been sketching on that evening. the image portrayed you, sitting on a stool in the middle of the stage, your guitar in hand, captured with intricate detail. it dawned on you that he had been watching you that very evening, his artistic portrayal a testament to the shared moments you had on that stage.

as you gazed at the drawing, a mixture of emotions washed over you. it was a beautiful and poignant memento that encapsulated minghao's presence in your life.

the world became a blur that thursday. joshua insisted on driving you home, a gesture of comfort and support, which you declined. you felt the need to be alone, to process the shock and grief in solitude.

he also suggested that you didn't have to perform on friday, understanding the emotional toll of the recent events. however, you firmly declined that offer as well. performing at the local pub on friday was not just about money; it was your connection to minghao, a way to honor his memory, and a source of solace in your time of loss. it was your lifeline, and you couldn't bear the thought of letting it go, even in the face of such profound sadness.

the days ahead held uncertainty, but the routine of the pub, the music, and the memories of your time with minghao were the anchors that would help you navigate the turbulent seas of grief.

joshua and seokmin stood by your side, offering their support and presence as you navigated the difficult hours following the heart-wrenching news about minghao. their unwavering companionship served as a source of comfort during a time of profound grief.

the following evening, you found yourself back at the local pub, a place where all your cherished memories of minghao had gathered. the stage, the familiar audience, and the music had always been your sanctuary, and it was there that you sought solace and a way to honor your friend's memory.

stepping into the center of the stage, you began to sing, your voice laced with emotions that ran deep. the lyrics spoke of your sorrow, and you poured your heart into the song. the audience may not have been aware of the tragedy you were enduring, but there was an unusual silence that enveloped the room, as if they could sense the heaviness in your voice.

“i’m singing at a funeral tomorrow..

for a kid a year older than me.”

as you continued to sing, the weight of your emotions became almost unbearable. you felt a disconnection from the world, a profound sense of loss that threatened to consume you.

“jesus christ, i’m so blue all the time

and that’s just how i feel

always have and always will

always have and always will.”

grateful for the concealing embrace of the heavy red curtains, you completed the song, your spirit broken but your determination to carry on as strong as ever. the local pub had always been a place that carries peace, but now it cradles your insurmountable grief, maybe it's a good thing that you decided to perform this friday because on this night, it served as a poignant tribute to a friend whose memory would forever echo in the music and the moments you shared.

LOL advance happy birthday minghao

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katy-l1988 · 2 months

Text

Chapater IV: The child

Zestial was momentarily paralyzed as he saw Carmilla standing, illuminated by the spotlight, her figure shining amidst the dimness of the venue. Their eyes met, and in that instant, everything seemed to stop around them. Buried feelings and forgotten memories resurfaced in his mind, reminding him of how much he missed her. Araziel, noticing Carmilla's intense gaze and reaction to seeing Zestial, felt a flash of jealousy ignite within him. His fingers slightly tightened on the edge of the table, and a cold, defiant gaze settled on the angel who had interrupted his night.

Meanwhile, Carmilla, standing in the middle of the restaurant, struggled internally, her heart torn between illusion and commitment. On one hand, she longed for the lost connection with Zestial, a spark of nostalgia and desire burning in her chest, something Araziel could no longer awaken in her. Asmodeo seized the opportunity for his own entertainment. Without hesitation, he took to the stage.

For him, it was all comedy, entertainment for his drama-hungry audience. However, behind his mask, there was a disdain for love he had never managed to feel, a belief that darker desires were superior to any romantic feelings.

"Listen up, everyone! Today, three great celebrities from Hell visit us!" Asmodeo exclaimed sarcastically, with a mischievous smile, relishing in the audience's attention. "Come here, Araziel!"

The angel combed his pink hair, which shimmered under the spotlights he loved so much. Among the Infernal Rings, he was known as the "Father of Titans," the first angel to break one of God's sacred rules by conceiving hundreds of Nephilim with human women. These giants were violent beings who wreaked havoc in ancient times, wiping out many human settlements. Upon their death, they became demons of great strength but little intelligence. Araziel gathered them all, turning them into thugs whose services would be offered to sinners and other renowned beings, including, of course, Asmodeo.

"This demon is a legend! The very embodiment of desire and rebellion!"

"If Sin of Lust says so, I'll take it as a compliment," he smiled, delighted that the audience praised him. "Remember, my friends. If you need protection, don't hesitate to call."

"Oh, Carmilla, how did you manage to snag such a stud?"

"Come on, Asmodeo, who could resist my charms?" Araziel continued, addressing his wife and inappropriately groping her breasts.

"Don't touch me!" Carmilla shouted, pushing Araziel away. "Is this why you brought me here? To humiliate me?"

"Look at that! You have a real firecracker, Araziel. These kinds of jewels are too valuable and desired. You should take better care of her," he declared, pausing dramatically before continuing his biting comment. "After all, a 'relationship' of so many years isn't maintained solely by good manners."

"Don't you know any other way to attract your customers?" Carmilla interjected, trying to camouflage her distress with anger, though the pain and shame were evident in her voice. "Or are you so miserable that you only feel powerful by playing with others' lives?"

"Carmilla, enough," Araziel warned, grabbing her arm, but she pushed him away.

The audience, surprised by the woman's audacity, murmured among themselves, some even discreetly applauding her bravery. However, Asmodeo, accustomed to being the center of attention and having absolute control over his stage, felt increasingly uncomfortable for being challenged in that way.

"Touché, Madame," he muttered under his breath, trying to regain his composure in front of the audience watching the tense interaction. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But don't forget who owns this place."

"Oh, I know who you are, Asmodeo. The question is, do you really know who I am?"

Asmodeo, momentarily taken aback by the firmness of her response, quickly regained his composure, though his eyes flashed with a mix of disbelief and resentment.

"Mmm, a purposeless soul? Araziel's doll? A caged bird?" Asmodeo said, his tone sarcastic and contemptuous, echoing Carmilla's doubts and insecurities.

Araziel watched with a mix of amusement and arrogance, relishing in his wife's submission. For him, that moment was like punishment, punishment for always preferring an old man from heaven over him. Shame consumed her, as she struggled to maintain composure under Asmodeo's ruthless gaze and the scrutiny of the audience. Zestial, consumed by anger, chose to use his monstrous form, an imposing and threatening creature. With a quick movement, he moved toward Carmilla to shield her. His eyes gleamed with fierce intensity as he looked at Asmodeo, warning him in a grave and severe tone.

"Don't ever stick your venomous tongue where you're not called, Asmodeo. I won't allow you to dare insult Carmilla again," growled Zestial, his voice resonating with authority and determination.

Asmodeo, surprised by Zestial's intervention and the fury emanating from him, instinctively recoiled, though his expression remained defiant.

"Who do you think you are to give me orders? This is my house, and I do as I please here," Asmodeo responded disdainfully, though it was evident that Zestial's imposing presence made him uncomfortable.

Carmilla, sensing the tension in the air, gestured for Zestial to calm down and return to his normal form.

"It's not worth it," she said, giving Zestial a smile. "Come on, anyway, I don't like this place. It's just trash."

She and Zestial left, leaving the two demons behind. However, they had barely taken a few steps outside the establishment when Araziel quickly caught up to them. Blinded by fury, he pounced on Carmilla ferociously, his hands gripping her hair tightly, and with a swift motion, he pulled her back, causing her to fall to the ground with a dull thud.

Zestial, witnessing the violence against the woman, could no longer contain himself. With a wild roar, he lunged at Araziel, and in an instant, the scene turned into a whirlwind of blows, grunts, and the dull sound of bodies violently colliding with the ground and alley walls. Their fists danced in a deadly ballet, each blow laden with fury and desperation. The golden blood splattered on the pavement, reflecting their true nature. The rage in Zestial's eyes was so intense it seemed to glow with its own light, while Araziel fought with fierce determination, fueled by indignation and wounded pride.

Carmilla, still dazed from the fall and the blow to her head, tried to get up from the ground, but a sudden sharp pain pierced her stomach, paralyzing her completely. The spasms of pain shook her as she clutched her abdomen with her left hand, feeling as if something was tearing her apart from the inside. Desperate and in tears, she screamed with all her might, begging them to stop the fight. As expected, Zestial was the first to react. He pushed Araziel away with a shove, freeing him from his tight grip, and turned to Carmilla. Without hesitation, he reached out his hand to her, offering assistance to help her up.

Carmilla clung to Zestial's arm, trying to alleviate the discomfort in vain.

"Stop pretending already!" Araziel exclaimed, visibly frustrated. "We're not fighting anymore."

"She's not pretending, Araziel," Zestial responded firmly, as he lifted Carmilla in his arms. "She's in a lot of pain. She urgently needs medical help."

Upon Zestial's words, Araziel nodded somberly. Without saying another word, he opened a portal to the Ring of Sloth and rushed Carmilla to the hospital. There, both Zestial and Araziel remained by her side as the doctor examined her. With a peculiar mask reminiscent of the plague era, the doctor asked them what had happened, but none of those present could offer a clear answer. They explained that they were in the middle of a fight, and suddenly she started screaming.

The doctor, with expert gestures, examined the affected area in Carmilla's stomach, causing her to cling tightly to the top of the stretcher, with Zestial holding her to prevent her from moving too much. The doctor didn't offer immediate explanations, instead, he positioned Carmilla in a specific way and ordered the nurse to prepare some additional supplies. He also requested that they call obstetrics, which further puzzled Zestial and Araziel.

Carmilla, feeling great pressure on her back and hips, spread her legs trying to relieve the discomfort. The doctor, observing the woman's unusual position, instantly understood what was happening. Without wasting time, he pulled out a pair of scissors and skillfully cut the pants she was wearing, revealing what was causing her pain.

"Do you want me to prepare her for the delivery room?" the nurse asked.

"It won't be necessary. The baby is already coming, and she won't let herself be moved," the doctor responded calmly, assessing the situation.

"A baby?" Carmilla, Zestial, and Araziel said simultaneously.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?!" Araziel exclaimed, his tone filled with anger and frustration.

"How could I tell you something I didn't know? ¡Carajo!" Carmilla responded, her voice trembling and on the verge of tears.

"Don't give me that! You should have known!" Araziel insisted, his anger growing with each word.

"Enough!" Zestial intervened, his voice resonating with authority. "Now is not the time."

The seraph fought to hold back tears as she clung to the edge of the stretcher, trying to endure the pain. She was aware that God, her father, had designed her with the ability to conceive, but she never thought she would face this situation so suddenly and overwhelmingly.

As Carmilla struggled to stay awake, Zestial approached her with tenderness. His presence was comforting, and his warm hand on hers offered silent support amidst the enveloping agony. Although Araziel was the father of her child and her husband, at that moment, it was Zestial who could help her. Their eyes met, seeking comfort. Despite everything that had happened between them, at that moment, Zestial was her rock, her refuge in the storm.

Araziel, feeling once again displaced by the presence of an elder, stepped away frustrated. Without saying a word, he headed towards the hospital exit, needing a moment alone to process everything he had just discovered. The cool night air greeted him, and with trembling hands, he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his coat pocket. He lit the cigarette with brisk gestures, letting the smoke slip between his lips as he sank into his thoughts. On one hand, he felt hurt and angry by Carmilla's sudden revelation of her pregnancy and the apparent emotional bond between her and Zestial. On the other hand, a part of him knew he had no right to feel that way, given the state of his relationship with Carmilla.

As he took a deep drag, a wave of understanding suddenly washed over him. That woman he so desired was having his child. The thought hit him like a lightning bolt, momentarily clearing his mind of all worries and fears. He extinguished the butt, letting the night breeze dissipate the remaining smoke. With firm and determined steps, Araziel returned to the hospital with a clear resolution in his mind: that creature was his, and he would not allow Zestial to take his place as a father, having stolen his wife's heart.

With a quick gesture, the doctor turned back and exclaimed excitedly:

"There you are! Come, do you want to see?"

Araziel approached cautiously, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he watched attentively. As he leaned in to get a better look, he could distinguish how the baby's head began to emerge, with strands of white hair identical to her mother's.

With a gleam of excitement in his eyes, Araziel turned to Carmilla, his voice full of enthusiasm and astonishment.

"It's our baby, Milla!"

But Carmilla, still overwhelmed by the pain and surprise, looked away. With one final gentle push, the baby emerged completely. A beautiful girl with silver hair and a tan complexion, identical to her mother. She had no wings, but that was beside the point, as there was a precedent that Nephilim, and even the Princess of Hell herself, did not possess them. Araziel, momentarily forgetting his resentment, cut the cord with the doctor's guidance, and with the baby wrapped in a towel, he approached his wife. However, Carmilla, overwhelmed by confusion, was not ready to face reality. She shook her head, refusing to take the baby into her arms.

"No, I don't want to see it," she murmured, looking away and feeling a lump in her throat. Zestial, sensing Carmilla's distress, tried to reassure her by gently caressing her arm.

"Milla, it's a girl…our daughter," he insisted, his voice soft but firm.

"That's exactly why. What can I expect from her if you're her father? Will she inherit your lies and deceit?" Carmilla responded, with a hint of bitterness in her voice, as she diverted her gaze from the baby towards Araziel.

Zestial knew the child shouldn't bear the brunt of their issues, so he sided with Araziel, and after a few moments, Carmilla relented. With his large hands, she held the baby against her chest, while the little one instinctively sought her source of nourishment. Araziel watched in silence, while Zestial stepped back.

"I can't believe you want to name her that," commented Araziel, furrowing his brow.

"Why not? It's a beautiful and unique name," Carmilla replied, defending her choice with determination, though a hint of doubt lingered in her voice.

"But…Velvette? Don't you think it's a bit…extravagant?" Araziel persisted, not hiding his disapproval.

"What's wrong with that? I like it, and that should be enough," Carmilla retorted, maintaining her stance.

"Fine, I won't argue with you."

Five years passed since that event, when Carmilla and Araziel made the difficult decision to officially divorce. They agreed, of course, on a shared custody arrangement that allowed them both to spend time with their daughter. According to the agreement, from Monday to Friday, Velvette would be with Carmilla, while on weekends, namely Saturday and Sunday, it would be Araziel's turn.

However, Velvette still grew up under the predominant influence of her father. He was her idol, her role model, although let's say he wasn't the best. Under his rule-free upbringing, Velvette became a passionate young woman, with great energy that could sometimes turn into a problem. Araziel, though he loved his daughter, was not the conventional father figure. His approach to parenting was more relaxed, allowing Velvette almost total freedom to explore the world around her. This resulted in a close relationship between father and daughter, but also in the lack of boundaries and structure in Velvette's life.

On the other hand, her relationship with her mother was more distant. Although she lived with her and spent time together, Carmilla was immersed in her career and other responsibilities outside the home. This caused a gap in their relationship, and the girl began to resent her mother for what she perceived as a lack of attention and commitment to her. Arguments between the two were frequent, and the young girl openly expressed her dissatisfaction with the situation.

"I'm home!" Carmilla announced, placing her keys on the bedside table near the door. "Velvette?"

Carmilla went straight to Velvette's room, and upon entering, she was met with a dense cloud of smoke that made her nose twitch slightly. However, before opening the window to ventilate the room, she noticed the surprise on her daughter's face, who had obviously been startled by her sudden entrance.

"Mom! You have to knock," Velvette scolded.

"Not when you live in my house," Carmilla replied, looking at her, noticing the cigarette in her hand. "I've told you not to smoke inside the house; you should go out to the terrace."

"But it's cold outside," Carmilla picked up some things to throw away, then came across a blue pill.

"It doesn't matter, there are rules in this house," she insisted, while picking up some things to throw away, then came across a blue pill among the objects. "What's this?"

"A pill?"

"Don't play dumb, pendeja. Tell me, where did you get this?"

Carmilla, unable to contain her frustration at not receiving an answer, grabbed Velvette's face tightly, her hand covering almost her entire head.

"Mírame, mírame..." Carmilla insisted, shaking Velvette harder. "I'm talking to you!"

Velvette, annoyed by her mother's treatment, looked at her with defiant eyes.

"Since when are you involved in this, Velvette? Since when are you taking drugs?"

Velvette forcefully released herself from Carmilla's grip, turning her face away with fury. Her eyes sparkled with a defiant gleam as she faced her mother.

"Since when?" she repeated sarcastically. "For months now, what did you expect, Mom? We're in damn Hell."

"I don't care where we are. I didn't raise you like this!" Carmilla exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and anguish.

"You? Raise me?" Velvette scoffed, with a look of contempt on her face. "Dad was right about you being a proud, selfish bitch."

Carmilla felt as if a dagger pierced her heart upon hearing her daughter's words. Anger and sadness mixed in a whirlwind of emotions within her. However, Velvette wasn't finished.

"You don't even bother to leave your office to see what's happening with me," Velvette continued, not stopping. "Do you think I don't notice how you hide behind your work to avoid dealing with your own problems?"

Carmilla was overwhelmed by Velvette's barrage of accusations. The tension in the room was palpable as mother and daughter faced off in a battle of wills.

"¡Ya basta!" Carmilla shouted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I won't allow you to talk to me like that, do you hear me? I'm your mother, and I deserve respect."

Velvette let out a bitter laugh, her eyes filled with disdain.

"Respect. Do you think you deserve respect after everything you've done? You know nothing about me, Mom. You never have."

A heavy silence filled the room as Carmilla's words hung in the air. Tears of helplessness began to well up in her eyes as she looked at her daughter with a mixture of pain and resignation.

"If that's what you think of me, then there's nothing more to say," she said firmly, though her heart was breaking in her chest.

Velvette looked at her with disdain, no hint of remorse in her gaze.

"Fine by me. I don't need anything from you anyway. I've always been self-sufficient, remember?"

Her daughter's words were like a direct blow to Carmilla's soul. She turned away, unable to bear the pressure of the moment. With heavy steps, she left the room, heading to hers. Velvette stayed in the room, feeling a strange mix of anger and sadness for what had just happened. She knew that things between her and her mother would never be the same again, but for some reason, that didn't matter to her as much as she thought it would.

On Friday afternoon, when Araziel came for his daughter, Carmilla led him to her room to discuss in private. Velvette knew that her mother's anger wouldn't last long, as every time those two were together, their instincts took over. Anger turned into desire, into bites, and scratches. The teenager, aware of the situation, sought refuge in her headphones, trying to block out the noise emanating from the next room. The muffled sound of

music flooded her ears, providing her with a barrier of isolation against the intensity of the encounter between her parents. With closed eyes and a heavy heart, she swallowed a pill, letting herself be carried away by the sweet promise of oblivion it offered. The enveloping melodies of her music intertwined with the passionate whispers filtering in from the adjoining room, creating a separate world where she could temporarily lose herself. However, even in her self-destructive retreat, a thread of concern persisted within her.

Once her parents left, leaving behind a charged and messy atmosphere, Velvette felt a momentary relief. She sighed deeply as she removed her headphones, allowing the silence to fill the room, if only for a moment. The tranquility was interrupted by Araziel's voice.

"We're ready to go," Araziel announced, his tone firm and decisive. "But I need to talk to you seriously once we get home."

Velvette followed her father with quick steps, feeling Carmilla's gaze boring into her back. Though she tried not to look directly at her, she could sense the anger emanating from her mother like a stifling wave of heat. For the first time in a long time, Velvette realized that she had crossed a line, had hurt her mother in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Carmilla watched her with a mixture of pain and disappointment in her eyes. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her expression was cold and distant. Though Velvette tried to read her thoughts in her face, Carmilla's gaze was impenetrable, hiding her true feelings behind her mask. For a moment, Velvette wished she could turn back time and undo her words, but she knew it was already too late. She had made a grave mistake, one that had angered her mother to a new level.

#carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel zestial #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbinhotel #headcanon #pregnancy #unplanned pregnancy #hazbin velvette #mother and child #hell is a teenage girl #fanfiction

26 notes · View notes

jtl07 · 8 months

Text

like a boat

[also on ao3 - note: Spoilers for Stray Gods]

(also shoutout to @sango-blep whose fanart of Stray Gods got me to play it!)

Beatrice starts her own file on Stray Gods after Ava gushes for five days straight to her and their sisters about the “amazing music,” the “super hot characters,” and how it had “such a cool vibe.” (Beatrice agrees immediately to Ava’s first and last points, grudgingly to the second - though she stands by her opinion of Apollo needing to learn how to button his shirt.)

She finds herself terribly torn when deciding her personality traits and again at the first major decision point. ‘It’s just a game,’ she tries to remind herself. She can always redo, she can always play through it again, she has time - they all do.

Her decisions from then on are made on her own instincts, tries not to engage her “strategy brain” (Ava’s words) too much, even though she’d figured out the killer early in the first act. But she finds herself enthralled enough with the characters, the world, with the music that she can accept that small imperfection. (‘Life isn’t about perfection,’ she repeats in her mind as she plays the game, when her eggs turn out a bit too soft, when her run takes a bit too long; as she trails her fingers along the jagged scars that cross Ava’s skin, as Ava looks up at her and grins, laughs, and tucks her head underneath Beatrice’s chin.)

Music hadn’t played a big presence in Beatrice’s life growing up. The exception, of course, being church music, though that had been relegated to Sunday mass. There was no jazz to keep them company at home, no pop music while they were being shuttled to and fro - as a family, they’d hardly spent time together as it is, much less to develop any sort of unifying soundtrack.

Beatrice knew the mechanics of the piano and the violin, could sightread most sheet music placed in front of her but she doesn’t have the same joy Camila has whenever she sees an instrument, doesn’t have the glee Ava has when she plays the electronic drumset she’d been gifted anonymously (they all knew it was really from Lilith). Spending time with Camila and Ava together meant becoming accustomed to conversations peppered with random bursts of song - it never took much, a mere word or phrase could get either of them going - and Beatrice learns to just smile along, fond, content with being an audience to their impromptu mini-musicals.

And it’s because of this lack of experience, this lack of passion, that Beatrice doesn’t expect to like the game as much as she does. Finds herself answering emails quicker than usual, starting up the game whenever she has an hour to spare. Ava will sometimes perch on the arm of her chair and watch her play but is careful not to give anything away, always gives Beatrice space when it comes to decision points in the game.

Ava’s out running errands when Beatrice gets to the end, which is just as well: She sits there, watching the credits roll by, sits there with a bittersweet feeling heavy in her chest. Finished in what seemed like no time at all - ‘The good things are always quick,’ she thinks, and she sees the image of Freddie’s hat overlaid atop Ava’s baseball cap, held tight between her hands.

Ava finds her in the dark, notes what’s in her hands, gives a sad smile. “Finished the game, huh?” she murmurs, brushing a lock of hair behind Beatrice’s ear. Beatrice nods, leans into Ava’s palm. Ava coaxes her out into the living room, keeps the lights low as they order pizza and watch a couple TV shows that Beatrice hardly pays attention to. Ava, however, of course, is paying attention, knows to keep close for the rest of the evening, just hums into Beatrice’s hair when she clings to Ava after they make love in their bed, shuddering and mouthing silently at the space on her chest above her heart.

Beatrice wakes up before her alarm the next morning, a dream of lost boats and ancient pillars whispering at the edges of her consciousness. She goes for her run, per usual, makes her protein shake and sets up Ava’s coffee, per usual, takes a shower, per usual. It’s still early, however, earlier than usual, and Beatrice finds herself turning on her computer, starting up Stray Gods. She opens her file and scrolls back to the beginning of act three. She hesitates briefly at the warning prompt, realizes this is the first choice: keep her saved data or attempt to save Freddie?

‘It’s just a game’ chimes through her mind as she hovers over the ‘Cancel’ button. ‘It is,’ Beatrice thinks, ‘So just play.’

She clicks ‘Ok,’ and lets her decision play out. It’s strange, a part of her brain acknowledges, to make the choices that she normally wouldn’t allow herself to make. To choose selfishness, to give in to her wants. It’s not honorable, it’s not responsible - ‘It’s just a game’ repeats in her head - but Freddie comes back. And it’s not perfect, it’s not all sunshine, but they’re together and Beatrice can’t help but wonder, can’t help but be jealous, can’t help what’s already been done.

‘It’s just a game,’ she reminds herself, numb as she watches the credits roll a second time. When it finishes, it’s well past sunrise and Beatrice knows she should get up to wake up Ava, that they need to leave for the farmers market soon so they can get that cheese Ava wanted but had run out last week, but she stays fixed to her seat, afflicted by a sense of detachment: adrift.

Ava finds her, again, as she always does - as Beatrice never did, and her guilt spills out over her hands in the form of tears. It comes in waves, feels like an ocean, like a ship crashing against a cliff. There’s no music here, no songs, no lyrics; their game has already been played.

But they’re still here, at the end of it all. Ava had come back, against the odds.

‘It was just a game,’ Beatrice reminds herself as she breathes Ava in.

Reminds herself two more truths: That Ava’s here, and they have time.

They’re late to the farmers market but when they arrive at the cheesemonger, they find a wedge saved with Ava’s name on it, much to Ava’s loud delight. They find some vegetables, some fruit, they find plenty of cute dogs to pet; they walk back home hand in hand, laden with bags.

They’re cooking up some of the vegetables when there’s a knock at the door - a package. Beatrice thinks nothing of it until they’ve cleared the dinner plates and Ava’s pulling her onto the couch, pushing the package into her hands.

“It’s a lamp,” Ava explains, a careful, hopeful look on her face as Beatrice studies the small lighthouse. A melody, unbidden, remembered, rings from the back of her mind - lost at sea - and she lets her hand slide to the back of Ava’s neck, pulls her in; uses her lips to map a path from Ava’s mouth to her temple to her forehead.

As if to say, ‘thank you,’ as if to say, ‘yes, I know what it means,’ as if to say, ‘yes, it’s what you mean to me; yes, it’s what I wish to mean for you, if you let me; will you let me?’

And the answer Ava gives is the same choice Beatrice has made, will always make: “Yes,” Ava says as she pulls her in - to shore, to her arms, to her joy of life - “Always.”

#my writing #jt writes fic #avatrice fic #avatrice #plays stray gods #i honestly don't know why i'm writing so much lately #but it's kinda nice to just write and yeet lol #we'll see how long this bout of creativity lasts 🙃#but omg if you like musicals and new takes on greek mythology definitely recommend this game!

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archivalofsins · 6 months

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So, before I watch the short music video and analyze the hell out of it let me put up my thoughts on the thumbnail and the gifs. I haven't been in the best mood for a minute and have been physically sick as well. So, I've mostly been talking to friends in private about my thoughts on the information.

Good news for all of those reading discussion is how I flush out ideas and opinions. So, I now have a lot.

First the thumbnail,

We believe that the thumbnail is a direct progression of the first one and meant to mirror it. Better highlighting the nuances of the situation.

The window replacing the mirror behind him in the original thumbnail.

The mannequin parts take the place of the broken walls.

The train seats taking the place of the couch and support bars taking the place of the armrest, while being vaguely similar to the staff we see The Fool card carrying-

this continues that caged in or surrounded feeling from his first music video thumbnail. Making the audience contemplate whether he's stuck in here with us or if we're stuck in here with him. A feeling that both of his thumbnail images subtly give off well.

The mannequin is split into pieces but there only seems to be pieces enough for one. Something I and @doctorbunny discussed. At which point I brought up that the thumbnail can be taken as a visual reference to the line,

"Maybe it’s ok to try to keep on living split in half, make that heart beat."

As it visually shows, trying to live his life as normal by doing his commute with these, possibly disjointed/at odds aspects of himself, constantly at his side. Reminded him of the division within himself. A good illustration of how living with a dissociation can be in my opinion.

Mikoto's clothes here are different as well. I do believe this is the other one going to work, and we will be seeing the trauma that Mikoto suffered to lead him to this point. Just as we did with Amane. I also spoke briefly about enjoying how the series confirmed this hinted at concept all the way back from trial one.

We've also discussed dissociative identity disorder here in regards to the other characters before. The information from that post can be applied here in regards to Mikoto's new outfit. As we've gone over before alters can have different body language and speaking habits. However, in that post we went over the myths around switching being incredibly noticeable and how the changes are not as drastic as one would believe.

Now of course, the problem can be exacerbated by how much stress one is under. However, for the most part the point is not having people notice a change has occurred. So, alters try to mirror the one who fronts the most when out depending on who they're around or where they are. Of course, this is different for everyone.

However, a change of clothes isn't enough to really make someone go oh you've changed drastically anymore. Unless the change is really out there, which it's usually not. So, using clothes and accessories to give a better understanding of the other we haven't seen is a great stylistic choice.

However, this isn't the only differentiating feature. There are also eyebags. As we discussed in another post people with dissociative identity disorder tend to be lethargic or really tired.

However, just because people with dissociative identity disorder are tired and probably would rather not bother with getting in a verbal argument let alone go through the trouble of killing another person, they'll still defend themselves if necessary. Because dissociative disorders form as a response and defense to trauma. So, there's no saying what will happen when some is exposed to that trauma that caused it a second time.

Also, literally anyone is capable of committing murder even though no one should do it. The bags could be being used to differentiate between them throughout the second mv.

We can also see he has his bat in his hands here in the thumbnail. This is all important when it comes to discussing the gifs that have been released. Ah, almost forgot many have been saying that the thumbnail is a fisheye shot but we believe it to be an arc shot because Mikoto himself does not have the distortion that would come with a fisheye lens shot.

Here's some information on the arc shot.

In the gifs we see that instead of the diamond shaped earring Mikoto is wearing earrings that more so resemble tires. It would be cool if all the objects within the tarot cards were variations of things associated with each of them. Explaining why the deck was split in half near the end of MeMe.

As the tires are reminiscent to the wheel of fortune, and as such, could be being used to highlight how little control over their life the other had. Yet that's not the only interesting thing. Instead of wielding his bat like in the thumbnail, Mikoto is shown holding his tote bag with no bat in sight within the gif of him sitting on the train.

This implies that he won't only be stuck within the train in his mental space but displayed on it in reality. Something that goes into what we speculated about the train being related to trauma they may have experienced. I discussed this with @candckirby in private.

Where I posited that the space in MeMe was as destroyed as it was because Mikoto had a problem with enclosed spaces for one reason or another. Plus, the fact that his mental space may be taking on the form of this train could imply that he's been forced to relive that trauma in a way. In the gifs from today that I saw I noted that Mikoto's swing looked odd with them.

We both ended up agreeing it could be a one-handed far back wind up swing. Yet, I still had some doubts because the bat being used is clearly not Mikoto's at least not the one he uses in the thumbnail. As it seems to be drawn with rust on it and the one he has in the thumbnail is devoid of that. The bat could degrade over the course of the video though. Just from that and how the bat was angled behind him along with his posture it didn't seem as though he was swinging it in that way.

All in all, it's too short of an image to fully parse out. However, at first glance it appeared he was being attacked from behind while attacking forward. The gif where Mikoto is yelling out shows that they'll more than likely be using the lack of eyebags and presences of them to differentiate between them. Something I find interesting mostly due to the lack of them during most of MeMe and he very intentional covering of eyes in certain scenes during that mv.

Which leads me to believe that the other one was there, and the eyes were obscured for that purpose. Outside of that my favorite of the gifs was personally the chase scene. I really liked the expression work throughout all of them. Yeah, that's it.

It's not really a lot but I'm tired and sick so cut me a bit of slack- they said making late excuses for their weak delivery hours if not days after all this information dropped. Well at least we wrote something.

#milgram #mikoto kayano #gunsli rambles

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

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Horror Villains x Reader || Headcanons

Topic: Horror Villains with a sweet, sunshine incarnate S/O.

Includes: Erik Destler, Freddy Krueger, Inkubus, Mayor Buckman and Stuart Lloyd. If you see a theme… sh.

Warnings: Some references to, like, murder and stuff but that’s about it. This actually is so fluffy?? I’m sorry 😅😅😅

Erik Destler:

(Older Timeline)

Oh- boy. Erik really needs someone like this in his life. You will be saving him. He’s such a grump, and mean, and thinks the whole world is against him (Which, apparently, it is. But I guess that’s what happens when you make a deal with satan.)

Just someone who will see him, and smile because you’re happy to see him! You wanted to see him and you’re not put off by his look or his brash (mean) manner! Tell him you missed him throughout the day and he has to force himself not to run of in a dramatic flourish of cape and dust.

If you bake stuff, and you bring him some ‘just cuz’ you thought he would like it? He’s suspicious at first, wandering if you’re intending to poison him. And he says as much, not even moving to touch the cupcake you’re offering him. Yeah, for a while you’re going to be taking the first bite out of whatever it is you bring him because even after the first few times, he’s concerned that you’re only leading him into a false sense of security.

When he finally does trust you, its subtle differences that show it. He leaves the door open to his cave when he knows you’re going to stop by, he tells you not to slip when there’s a mess around (Which is, basically, always. His home is always in a state of artistic chaos) and eventually even takes you by the hand to lead you through??, he actually sits down when you’re around (No longer two seconds from attacking, or escaping), and he even s m i l e s a little bit??????????

Y/N!! Call him handsome!! He might believe it coming from you! Well, he’ll believe that you believe it. And that’s nice enough.

Of course, he spies on you during the day while you’re in the opera house. Dear god, if he hears you telling someone all about your ‘unnamed boyfriend’ and how wonderful he is, you’re gonna hear something falling and breaking behind the closest wall because he nearly had a heart attack-

Your friend: How about you? Do you have your eye on anyone, huhh?

You: Oh I actually have someone! He’s wonderful, and so talented- I wish you could hear his music, he -*Basically you just say so many many lovely things about him*

Erik, behind a wall: *Falls over*

Basically the two of your are like Dawn and the Bog King, from Strange magic XD (If they had ended up together)

Last dot point. If someone were to hurt you? Like, genuinely get you down? Make you cry in front of him???? Well he doesn’t know how to comfort you, so the best he can do is go scare the living bejesus out of that person. Or kill them.

Freddy Krueger:

Freddy has a ball with you! At first its just so much fun for him to take that light out of your eyes- conjure up dreams that are nice, and happy, and beautiful… and then tear them apart and watch your face fall. That’s fun for him. A lot, of fun.

But once you’ve actually become friends (Or more) he finds your sweet disposition to be pretty damn cute, honestly.

He especially likes how you always laugh at his stupid ass jokes! Genuinely! Because, yes- this is a person he’s needed! A captive audience, yes, he can work with this! No one appreciates his liners like you.

You get nicknames like Peaches, Sunshine, Princess (Your gender does not matter to him, you could be a big burly dude and he’ll call you Princess. You might even hate being called Princess- and it’ll just make him use it more), little angel, Rosie, any sweet food he can think of, etc.

Oh my lord, he’s constantly doing that stupid thing where he taps his cheek like ‘Gimmie a kiss?’ and then turns his head at the last minute so you get a big smooch on the mouth. Probably with tongue. I hope you like that XD

On days where you’re down, he’s totally thrown for a loop and will do just about anything to make you smile. Dumb jokes? Presents? Affection? Compliments? Apologies??? He’s got it all in spades and he won’t leave you alone until you’re happy again. He’ll put his hat on your head, he’ll drag you in to dance with him, he’ll carve you your favourite animal out of wood.

When he’s in a mood, you’re the only one who’s safe to be around him. In fact he’ll seek you out. Wouldja give him a smile? … Please?... (I imagine his voice to crack when he uses his manner words XDD )

Of course, you will! Sit next to him and wrap yourself around his arm and chatter to him until he’s better. Make cheesy jokes (… so I went to the zoo the other day. They only had one dog. It was a Shitzu- okay I’m sorry that’s really really dumb isn’t it??! How about this- ), flick his hat up so its not covering his eyes anymore (Lemme see that handsome face, there he is!), press your forehead to his shoulder- you just show you care about the old bastard. Its novel to him, someone being so sweet to him, and he eventually calms down to his regular mood.

Also you two do this thing where you try to keep straight faces while trying to make the other laugh and you almost always lose.

Inkubus:

Oh! Yes! Dark, villainous, smooth-talking Inkubus with the sweetest S/O is totally perfect. He thinks you’re absolutely adorable and wants to protect you from the evil of the world (Except him. His apologies, but you’re stuck with him.).

Your big happy smiles warm his black heart and ohhhh, pity the poor idiots that ever try to hurt you, make you sad, or mad. The first thing they see when they get home is his evil smile and the last thing they’ll feel is a knife in their chest as they choke on their own blood.

Not that he would tell you about what he did, he just gets home and asks you how your day was. Did anyone bother you? Also probably brings home dinner, too. He can multitask. (Puts in the order at the food place, then hops over to the assholes house to kill uhhh… some time… before the foods ready)

Oh theirs blood under his fingernails? Don’t pay any mind to that dear.

Just… just picture it? Inkubus in his full black and grey, then there’s you beside him radiating sunlight chattering away and he’s listening intently, nodding along and occasionally asking a question.

And- he does love you. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to mess with you, he can’t help it.

You get home one day and ask him how his day was as he gets up to make you a cup of tea after a long day, and he details a very long, terrible day of burning down orphanages and following women down dark alleyways. Then, once you’re appropriately freaked, eyes wide and mouth dropped open, he chuckles and tells you he was kidding.

Though- not entirely. He’ll mutter just loud enough for you to HEAR HIM, before asking you which mug you would prefer this evening.

Like Erik, he spies on you. What? He doesn’t have a job, he has very little to do during the day. So why not follow you to work and see what’s going on? He loves how you respond to other men flirting with you- just saying ‘thank you!’ all cheery and lovely, before swiftly walking off. He finds it so amusing, and very very cute.

He’ll let you have and/or do almost anything, honestly. You’re his sunshine. So if you wanna maybe… dress him up?? He’ll groan and sigh about it but just give him that smile and those bright eyes and he wont say no.

Mayor Buckman:

Perfect, haha XD He can be pretty cheery himself as long as things are going his way! And when they’re not, when he does that thing where he goes all dark and the whole town gets glary?? You just need to put a hand on his arm and tilt your head to the side, and ask if he’s okay? Give him a little smile, too? And he cheers right up.

Here’s the thing- Buckman is high energy. And he loves to dance with you at jubilees, pull you off to the side and twirl you. He’ll even dip you, if it’ll make you laugh. It might surprise you when he does it, too.

He’ll do a similar thing if he sees that you’re down. He’ll take your hand and lead you away carefully, like c’mon darlin just one dance… for me. Slowly he’ll guide you around and talk to you, making little jokes here and there, until you cheer up and give a laugh.

Oh- my- goodness, it stresses him out when you inevitably get along so well with Boone XDD Like- his ex-wife?? And his sweetheart??? What are they saying about me???? He’ll hang around when the two of you get to talking just to make sure nothing untoward is being said about him, and maybe to distract you if he can. Like Oh Howdy there Y/N! I need your help with something darlin far away from here right now, please come with me. Bye Boone-

(You both know exactly what he’s doing, especially when he finally gets you away and he just says he wanted some attention from you all sweet and totally fake, but it’s just too funny so you don’t really care)

He does stuff for you just to make you smile, not that its hard. But he like, brings you breakfast in bed, requests your favourite songs when there’s a band, takes you on special dates like picnics, draws you warm baths if you’re stressed or unwell, etc.

God help the poor bastard that hurts your feelings. That’s all I’m saying for that one, Buckman’s messed the fuck up and he’s not great at hiding it.

YOUR BIRTHDAY is an EVENT. Like, a town event. Literally like the guts and glory jubilee, there’s a banner, there are preparations, and he probably tries to make it a surprise but you see the towns folk setting up under the blanket of night time the evening before. The effort still, obviously, moves you though. The celebrations last the whole day, he wears your favourite colour, he’s actually glued to your side almost the whole day (Just except for when he has to make sure that something is perfect for you), and the whole thing ends with the two of you alone under the stars, away from the party.

Basically nothing is too much for his sunshine.

… Honestly Buckman’s a bit of a sugar daddy.

Stuart Lloyd:

Stuart, is not a sugar daddy XD He’s got no money, sorry XD

You are literally the only thing keeping him from depression- not to freak you out or anything. Stuart is not happy with his life, but he is amazed at you- you want to be with him? You smiling at him?? You still being there in the morning the first night you stay over at his little place??

He likes to take videos of you, whether it be on his phone or on actual video camera, or taken off video surveillance at work. You don’t really have to be doing anything partially dazzling, but he will direct you a little bit (He can’t help it. It’s his new thing.). Like, you’re just eating your breakfast and he’ll ask you to lean back so you’re not casting such a shadow on your cereal, or you’ll be sketching on the couch and he asks if you can look more serene, or you’ll just be brushing your hair and he asks if you’re happy to step more into the sunlight.

Luckily, you’re happy to play along, bat those eyelashes at the camera and flash a grin.

Both of your favourite videos, though, are the ‘bonus features’. He comes up to you and asks you some questions, and you pat the seat next to you so he’ll be in the scene too and its just the two of you chatting and you laughing and him looking fucking lucky as hell.

He watches these mundane little movies when he’s down at work and sighs- just a few more hours, then he can see you again.

You stroke his ego quite a bit haha. He absolutely loves it when you call him ‘Mr Director’, all cheeky. Or just tell him you love him, or his movies are really good, or you missed him while he was at work. Or!! You saw this thing and thought of him??? Good god, are you trying to kill him??

Stuarts not very touchy but he likes it when you initiate! Just snuggle in next to him when he’s editing or just drinking his morning coffee and lay a blanket out over you both cuz its chilly, or give him a kiss before work, or lay your head on his shoulder when you’re sleepy. He’ll feel loved and wanted and- again- lucky.

When you’re down he doesn’t really know what to do. He tries to make jokes but he’s not super great at them, all stuttery and second guessing himself. He’ll try to show you movies that have made you smile before, but it doesn’t really work. He asks who’s at fault for this (Maybe they could be in a future movie of his?? It’s going to be a gory one, for sure) but a lot of the time its not because of someone else. He’ll put on your favourite movies and make popcorn.

When something finally works he’s so relieved to have his sweet person back, and listens intently to whatever you say.

#Horror Villains x Reader Headcanons #Horror Villains x Reader #Horror Villains #Stuart Lloyd x Reader #Stuart Lloyd #Mayor Buckman #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Inkubus #Inkubus x Reader #Freddy Krueger #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Erik Destler #Erik Destler x Reader

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riddle-me-ri · 1 year

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Heyo, I'm hoping your still doing requests, been on a mad riddler rampage as of recent, always like the guy. I had some one fantasy of a nightclub singer reader, most likely an Iceberg Lounge one that catches his eye. I love BTAS Riddler preferably but if you want to do several that be cool. Love suggestive content, especially as I see reader in a very revealing dress. K THNXX!!!!

A/N: omg yess, such a classic set-up I love it! Also also, for that sweet soundtrack vibe lmao, I listened to a bunch of Clairy Brown and The Bangin’ Rackettes music for this fic, especially songs like, “Love Letter” (where the title comes from lol), “Good Problems”, and “Walk of Shame”, but honestly all their songs are bops.

Trigger Warnings: none really, just heavy flirting

Word Count: 1.5 k

"Edward! So glad to see you can make it!" Oswald came up behind Edward and patted his shoulder in a friendly greeting.

"I appreciate the invite." Edward said.

Oswald chuckled at the mention of his false name. "But of course! I couldn't possibly allow you to miss out on one of the best acts I've acquired for the lounge."

Edward hummed, intrigued. "That's some mighty high praise, Oz. Just who or what is the act?"

"Ooh, I shouldn't dare give it away, I'll just let you have a listen, old friend."

Oswald got up, but not before tipping his hat, almost knowingly at Edward.

Before Ed could ponder too much on the subject, the lights dimmed as the live band warmed up their instruments.

Edward was silently sending gratitude to Oswald for reserving a front row table for him. He had a perfect view of the stage.

Soon the curtains pulled back and there was a beat of silence before the band began playing the music. An upbeat, jazzy number.

There you stood in a gorgeous sleeveless dress with a sweetheart neckline. The satin dress was cut from the bottom all the way up to your mid thigh on both sides of the dress.

Heat rose up Edward's neck and caused his face to flare a bright red at his cheeks.

Now he was sort of regretting being so up close, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed red face. He tried taking a couple generous sips from his drink, but it did very little.

Nothing could prepare him for when you actually began your musical number.

You captivated and kept your audience engaged, not a single person didn't have their eye on you. You were extremely personable. You smiled, waved, and even teased the crowd with some playful dance moves.

Despite being caught up in the music, song, and overall provocative performance you put on…you didn't miss the new and handsome face in the audience.

Oswald mentioned something about a good friend of his visiting. Which is why he came to see you backstage and gave you an extra elbow nudge of encouragement.

You found yourself…compelled to bewitch this friend of Ozzie’s.

You swung your arms out for the grand finish, before ending the show in a graceful bow.

Edward was still frozen in a state of enchanted awe. He barely was able to compose himself long enough to applaud you.

Ed adjusted his collar and swallowed a lump in his throat as you looked straight at him. You sent him a wink and nod of acknowledgement.

Edward had very little time to recover before Oswald came up behind him once again.

“W-Who is she?” Ed asked, breathless, almost dremaily.

Oz chuckled. “Brilliant, isn’t she? An absolute siren! I’ll introduce you to her!”

Right on cue, you made your way through the adoring crowd giving you high accolades. You were polite enough to acknowledge who you could but you were on a mission.

Edward’s eyes turned into saucers as Oswald’s smile morphed to a wide grin as you walked up to them.

"Oswald!" You greeted your boss and friend as you stopped in front of them.

"Hello, my dear! You were absolutely amazing tonight, as always! I believe you may be due for another performance in a moment." Oswald chuckled.

"Hopefully not too soon, Oz." You shifted your eyes up to meet Edward's. "I want to meet your friend first, it's not every day I get to see them!"

"Oh of course!" Oswald introduced the two of you.

Edward was slowly but surely able to have his brain reboot and start sending actual functions from his brain to his body and voice.

He even managed to somehow bow a little to kiss the back of your hand. Even you were taken aback by the gesture, but was more than pleased to see him loosen up some (even if it was just to wind him back up again).

Oswald perked his ear, as if listening for something. "Ah, I'm being needed elsewhere, please enjoy yourselves!" He winked and waddled off.

Ed became tense again, unsure exactly what to say or how to carry on a conversation with you looking like an actual goddess.

Edward just tried to stick to what he knew. How to be a gentleman.

He pulled out the chair that was opposite his seat with his beverage and you smiled at the invitation before sitting down.

"How did you like the show, Mr. Nygma?" You asked.

Your warm sultry voice caused him to short circuit, but only for a second.

"I, um..oh I enjoyed it very much! I-I must admit I was impressed…I thought Oswald was having a laugh by..getting me more excited than necessary." Ed chuckled nervously.

You giggled softly. "Glad to know you were excited…it was…exciting to see a new handsome face in the crowd."

You giggled some more as you heard the almost comical gulp Edward made.

"Ah, well thank you…do you not get a lot of newcomers in the audience I suppose?"

You shrugged. "There's definitely the regulars and their dates or…their new dates for whatever day of the week it is…but you.." You hummed. "You are just so adorable, you stood out. I'm glad Oswald introduced you to me."

Edward nodded. "I-I, yes, I'm grateful too!" It may not be the first time he was called adorable, but he had to admit, the way you said it made it seem even more special.

"Well, you know what I do for a living. What do you do, Mr. Nygma?"

"Um..er..please…call me Edward..erm..Ed.."

"Eddie?"

His face lit up as he looked at you with a bright cheeky grin. "Yes?"

You tried to stifle your giggles from passing your lips. "Eddie..what do you do? If I may ask?"

"Um…well…"

You saw an opening and took it. You put your hand on top of his, and gave him a reassuring wink.

"It's okay, if it's not…exactly…a blue collar job." You teased.

Edward's face fell in relief, he gave you a small smile. He found himself grateful to find someone that understood, granted you did perform for an underground crime boss but details…details.

Slowly, Ed gained more confidence and felt more comfortable with you. He even divulged his background with Competitron and Mockridge which lead to his Riddler escapades.

You hung on to every last word, genuinely enthralled. You knew that ultimately, even dabbling in any affiliations with the infamous Rogues Gallery was going to make things messy to say the least. You couldn’t deny though, there was a certain flare and intrigue that you just couldn’t pass up.

“You mean I got to perform for a man who is as intelligent as he is handsome?” You inquired. “How did I get so lucky?”

Edward hummed. “If anyone’s the lucky one here, my dear, it’s me.” He grinned.

You giggled. “Could you tell me a riddle?”

You tried not to give away that you noticed a twinkle in his eye when you asked. You always enjoyed the random ones you heard throughout your childhood. You were curious which one he would throw your way.

A lightbulb went off figuratively in Ed’s brain when he came up with the perfect riddle. Well, at least one that fits the mood.

“Riddle me this…What did the paper clip say to the magnet?”

You leaned back into your chair, letting the riddle toss around in your brain for an answer. You really hoped it would have been something simple, but you were determined to figure it out.

“Let’s see…” You pondered out loud to fill in the silence.

Paper clip and a magnet…paper clips…magnet…magnets can pick up paper clips because most clips are magnetic. What would it say to the magnet?

Oh…OH

You smiled when it finally came to you. It excited you to know Edward was just as capable of flirting as you were, even if it was in his own unique way. It made things more…fun!

“I find you attractive.” You grinned victoriously.

Edward gasped playfully, “so forward, but I must admit it is a mutual sentiment.”

“Hey! What…that’s…that’s the answer Eddie! You tricked me!”

Edward snickered. “Yes, you are correct, but was my assumption wrong?”

You shook your head, bashfully. “No, not at all.”

You two looked into each other’s eyes. A lull comforting silence fell over you two, but it was interrupted by your boss.

“I’m so sorry, dear!” Oswald apologized. “I hate to cut your meeting so short, but I’m afraid some of the crowd is getting restless and would like an encore…"

You sighed understandingly. “I’ll be right there, Ozzie. I understand.” Before Oswald walked off you asked to borrow his pen in his jacket pocket.

Edward perked an eyebrow as he saw you write something vigorously on a napkin. As you got up to make your way back to the stage you handed Edward the napkin.

“Until next time, Eddie?” You asked, hopefully.

Ed nodded before vocally confirming there will indeed be a next time.

You handed Oz his pen back and slowly, hesitantly walked back to the stage.

Edward took a glance down at the napkin and his face flushed red once more.

Eddie <3

It was a pleasure to meet you. I cannot wait to see you again. Call me when you can and be prepared with more riddles! I’ll let you slide without giving me a reward this time, but I am definitely expecting a prize next time ;)

#ri writes #btas riddler x reader #btas edward nygma x reader #batman the animated series riddler x reader #batman the animated series edward nygma x reader

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thestalwartheart · 1 year

Text

slow.

Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Pairing: 00Q Word count: 654 Summary: Q teaches Bond the value in slowing down.

[Read on AO3.]

Their first kiss hadn’t been much to write home about.

It was a short, drunken thing outside the MI6 end-of-year party, a moment of warmth amongst the sting of the wind and the peril of Q’s feet trying their best to slip on icy ground. In his fuzzy recollection of the event, the kiss hardly started before it was over. At the time, he assumed it was Bond's way of saying goodbye and thank you and I kiss all my friends, now it's your turn. In other words, all par for the course with a man like Bond, who excelled at declarations made through physicality and physicality alone.

So Q hadn’t ever expected there to be a second kiss, though he thought if there ever were one, he expected it to be a bit more considered.

It wasn’t.

It came late on an otherwise average Thursday when Bond, for no particular reason, showed up at Q’s front door. It had only just slammed closed against the gaze of his nosy neighbours before Bond grabbed Q’s face in those wonderful, broad hands and pulled him in for a scorching kiss. For a moment, he was so swept up in the fervour of it that he didn’t notice his cats meowing at the end of the hallway or the lingering cold of the air Bond had brought in with him. Nor did he notice Bond taking off his own scarf or sliding a bottle of wine onto the hallway table. The world ceased to exist beyond the chill of those slightly-chapped lips against his own, the tongue tracing the seam of his mouth and the feel of cool, fine leather gloves against his heated cheeks.

But when he did come back to himself, Q felt, well…restless.

For weeks, he had been thinking frequently — far too frequently— about how he’d like to approach a second go-round, and he wasn’t in the mood to rush the opportunity. In fact, he quite resented Bond for being in such a godawful hurry all the time.

When Bond pulled back from the kiss, Q hummed in thought.

“You kiss as if you’re going to be ripped away from it any second,” he murmured. As gracefully as he could manage, Q walked them back to a wall until Bond was pressed against it. His fingers played at Bond’s collarbone lightly, slid up the stubbly hill of his throat, then traced around the tip of an ear. Bond had forgone his usual tie and undone one too many buttons on his shirt, probably with the intent of rattling Q. Fortunately for everyone involved, Q remained unrattled. “Here.”

The next kiss was soft, languid. Something to be savoured rather than burned through. They were of a height, normally, but as Bond gave into his pleasure, he sagged slightly against the wall at his back, giving Q the height advantage. He made good use of it, curling a hand around Bond’s jaw and tipping his face up while he sucked at that plush bottom lip, the one that always seemed protruded in a perennial pout. The air between them smelled of Bond's aftershave.

“There, now,” Q whispered, breaking away with a lovely wet sound. “That’s better. How was it, living life in the slow lane for a moment?”

Bond straightened up and gazed at him with hooded eyes. Or gazed at his lips, really. Q imagined they were redder than usual. They were of a height again, which Q had to admit he much preferred.

“Certainly more tantalising than I expected.”

“Then…might a continued demonstration be in order?”

Bond laughed. “You’re a pompous little shit.” Though there was no sting to the words, Q raised a warning eyebrow anyway, and was pleased to see Bond’s laughter morph into something heavier. Huskier. “All right. What have you got for me, Quartermaster?”

“Oh, plenty.” Q trailed his thumb over Bond’s mouth. “Shall we get started?”

#00q #00q fic #james bond #my fic #i'm actually really fond of this one friends #thinking about how aside from vesper we never really see bond taking his time with kissing and sex until nttd #thinking about q #ever the scientific mind #wanting to savour and to study #thinking about all the small ways he can teach Bond the value of domesticity #even if he isn't especially domestic himself #maybe he learns a few things along the way too

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jekyll2life · 2 years

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Seeing as the Monster High live-action movie is going to be coming out in a couple weeks, I thought it’d be fun to share this concept I have. It’s basically an AU of the movie, where everything is the same except Jackson/Holt is the main character instead of Clawdeen. Would it be infinitely less marketable? Yeah, of course. But do I also think it would have been interesting way to follow the same premise and use the same plot points without changing the characters too much from G1? Also yes.

Ideas under the cut!

Note: I know there’s a leak of the full movie floating around somewhere, but I haven’t seen it yet. I’m planning on watching the movie with some friends the day it comes out, so maybe I’ll make adjustments to this post afterwards.

The movie would start with Jackson giving the audience a little backstory on his family history. How his dad is a fire elemental and his mom is a descendant of Jekyll and Hyde. Growing up, he was the only half monster in the entire neighborhood.

Unlike in G1, this live-action movie AU version of Jackson grew up mostly with humans his entire life.

He used to go to high school with other humans. But in order to do so, he had to keep his Hyde side, Holt, at bay. Unfortunately, there would always be a time where Jackson would inadvertently transform into Holt in front of others. Because of this, he would be ostracized by other students or be deemed dangerous by parents or teachers. As a result, he’s had to transfer schools a lot.

He’s gone from human high school to human high school, and at some point he and his parents thought that perhaps Jackson/Holt would have better luck going to a school specifically for monsters.

That’s when Jackson/Holt transfers to Monster High and we get to the beginning of the movie.

Imagine the scene right before the opening number: Jackson is standing outside the portal to go to Monster High, headphones around his neck. The music starts building up. As he walks into the portal, he asks aloud, seemingly to himself, “Are you ready for this?” He slides his headphones on as he steps through. On the other side of the portal, Holt steps out. He’s got his headphones on, his hair aflame, and he’s got the biggest smile on his face. “YEEAAYEAAHHH!!! I was born ready!” Cue opening number.

The lyrics to “Coming Out of the Dark” wouldn’t have to change at all. Now, “out of the dark” refers to Holt no longer being trapped in the dark of Jackson’s consciousness. He no longer has to hide his existence or be restricted to only going out at night (”spending life in the shadows, creepin’ ‘round the corner”). For the first time, Holt gets to be the dominant persona of the body, and Jackson gets to take a backseat.

And hopefully, now that they’re with other monsters, Holt/Jackson would no longer have to worry about constantly needing to transfer to find a place where they belong.

At the start of the first chorus of the opening number, Holt busts through the front doors and sees all the other monster students dancing to the song. He fits right in.

After the opening number, everyone goes back to their rooms (since in the live-action movie I heard Monster High is a boarding school now).

In my experience going to college, people got to choose whether they had a certain gender preference for roommates or not. So for the sake of keeping characters together, we’ll just say Monster High runs under a similar system. Since Frankie is nonbinary, I don’t think it would be out of the realm of possibility that they would list that they don’t have a gender roommate preference. And so Frankie and Holt get to be roommates. :)

Then we get introduced to Clawdeen and Draculaura, who are roommates living in an adjacent room to Holt and Frankie. Clawdeen gets to keep her confident personality from G1.

Things start looking bad for Holt when he, Frankie, Clawdeen, and Draculaura go into Mr. Komos’s class and the song “Monster Heart” starts (which references Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). And Holt’s just sitting there awkwardly thinking “Oh shoot, they’re talking about my granddad”

And so the rest of the movie is dedicated to Holt having to conceal the fact that he’s half-human.

Which becomes more difficult than he anticipated because it turns out he’s not very good at school work. Since Holt’s been kept in the back of Jackson’s consciousness for so long, he doesn’t actually have much experience being in school. And so every so often, he has to let Jackson out to do their homework and keep their grades up.

Speaking of Jackson, when he’s out there would be absolutely no music. Not even background music. This way the narrative would imply that all the musical numbers and dance sequences that happen are just in Holt’s head and not actually happening in-universe. Since Holt has to keep his headphones on and music playing 24/7, he sees the world through a musical lens. And so to contrast, Jackson’s world only has dialogue and heightened sound effects (ex: footsteps, paper rustling, etc.).

I’m sure the live-action movie will have other plot threads aside from Clawdeen trying to prevent people from finding out she’s half-human-half-monster, so naturally this AU would follow those same or similar plot threads too. But I’m gonna wait until I see the movie to write those.

The important part is that both Holt and Jackson would need to be instrumental to solving the conflict at the climax.

The ending scene would be Holt walking to class with his newfound Monster High friends. After taking his seat, which is in the middle of the classroom, the teacher calls attendance.

“Holt Hyde?” Holt waves his hand in the air. “Here Teach!”

“And Jackson Jekyll?” Holt takes off his headphones, transforming into Jackson in front of everybody. Except this time, nobody is giving him dirty looks or suspicion. Now both of his sides get to be an ordinary student in a high school class. Jackson raises his hand. “Present!”

The class starts as the camera pans away. Roll credits.

Now of course I understand there’s plenty of plot holes (namely how their last name wouldn’t just give away their identities). But like I said, this is mainly just a concept I’ve been thinking about that could have been interesting. If you got through this far, thanks for reading!

#monster high #monster high g3 #mh #monster high live action #monster high au #au #alternate universe #jackson jekyll #holt hyde #frankie stein #clawdeen wolf #concept #text post #mattel #jesters nonsense

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demonichikikomori · 6 months

Note

hey there devil! can I pls request jade leech x afab fem reader who’s a popular idol and in a secret relationship with jade and she takes him to her dressing room for some desperate sexy time bc she’s busy and misses him. tysm and take care of yourself devil <3

Between Us

REQUEST

Fan!Jade Leech x Idol!Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Tags: Dom(?)Reader/Jade is Happy to Help/No Prep Jump Into the Sex Horny/Hydrating is Important

Art by hatsure820 on Twitter!

Hey hey hey hey! I finished your request babes! Have I mentioned I love idols? No? Well I do! Maybe it’s because I’m a shut in?! I took this in a different direction. I wanted to make Jade a fan because… I dunno… I think him getting to fuck his mushroom idol would be fun.

SUMMARY:

Show after show. Tour after tour. Interview after interview. You were a very popular idol. A very busy idol. And you hardly had any time for yourself. Or with your own number one fan, Jade Leech. After a big concert, you decided you had enough. You needed to make up for lost time.

As the lights dimmed, you savored the audience’s cheers for only ten seconds before walking briskly off of the large stage.

The thin layer of sweat clung to your skin and the puffy mushroom styled dress was becoming unbearable the longer you stood in it. The chorus of fans cheering your name in the stadium egged you to walk faster in the direction opposite from the performance. You refused to turn around for a final encore. You were beyond exhausted.

The last two weeks were nothing-short of a stamina run. It was to test your endurance and perseverance as the number one solo idol world-wide. There were interviews on Monday, live shows on Tuesday, radio shows on Wednesday, photo shoots on Thursday, and the final concerts of the week on Friday. Of course, you got weekends off if you weren’t being hunted by fans or if your manager didn’t demand that you practice new choreography for an upcoming concert or music video. After this it would be officially over. Only for a few days which would allow you to relax and truly decompress. Even a starry-eyed idol in a short poofy skirt needed a break.

As you made it backstage, a staff member in black handed you a bottle of water that you quickly accepted. Walking through the concert hall maze in search of a face you knew would be there. He was always there after every concert. And honestly? You needed to make up for lost time after all of the stress this week. You went to unscrew the plastic cap as you scanned the sea of staff.

As you spotted the head of teal hair, your heart jumped with the rush of adrenaline. You could almost feel your pupils expanding with excitement at the sight of your precious Jade. He was right where you wanted him. Where you needed him. The young man stood patiently with security, a calm expression on his face as he swiped his thumb over the laminated VIP pass around his neck. He wore a goofy shirt with a cartoon image of you on the front, a gray zip up hung loose over his shoulders, dark blue jeans with rips in the knees, and teal colored Converse you assumed he borrowed from his twin. As always, he was the only person backstage among the staff, who was not a member of staff.

You remembered meeting Jade at your first concert as an underground mushroom themed idol. You had no real reason for choosing mushrooms other than the theme felt unique and you found the different varieties of fungi to be inspirational. After the first show that you believed to be a failure, Jade promised that he would come and see you every time you announced a performance. His eyes were filled with stars and excitement, even though you were covered in sweat and your mushroom headband had fallen off during your debut dance. But he swore to you with your hands held in his, that if he failed to attend a single concert of yours… Jade had instructed you to assume he had died.

At first you found him a bit weird, slightly creepy, and absolutely missing a screw. But over time you learned that Jade was actually fascinated by mushrooms. Coming from a rich family, he never had the luxury to leave the house and explore as he pleased in his youth. You were just the first thing he found on his first independent journey into the world. And you were honored.

“Jade!” You called out to him as you dropped your unopened water bottle to the ground, smiling as he turned to greet you. You ran up to him, your heart thrumming against your ribs as a dull ache in your feet from your four inch, chunky, red heels began to intensify. You could feel the sweat soaking through the white tights beneath your dress. You could feel the soreness in your throat from non-stop singing and chatting with the audience. Your excitement took a sharp drop as your chest tightened from the over-exertion of energy.

Your knees buckled as Jade rushed to grab a hold of you with a panicked expression. Your face was burning from the sensation of his hands slipping under your arms to hold you upright. His embrace was firm, comforting, and the contact you had gone without for so long made your body ache. But not with pain.

“Are you alright? Would you like to go to your dressing room?” He asked with concern as he lifted you to stand upright. His voice was soft and comforting as you whined against him and rested your face in the crook of his neck. The sweat between your thighs was becoming sticky and you inhaled the faint scent of his ocean scented soap and the expensive cologne he wore. “You worked hard today, it isn’t good to stand in heels for a very long time either.” He chuckled softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, parted your lips, and gently clamped your teeth into his skin. You could feel Jade flinch as you began to suck on the soap flavored flesh. You wanted to leave a welt. You wanted him to understand what you were asking for. “O… Out here? Why don’t we go back to your dressing room?” He asked with a soft sigh.

Jade was always so composed. A blank expression or a small smile that was virtually unreadable. But you loved how well you could read his body language. When your antics were risky enough to jeopardize your career, you would truly see him crack. When he would hug you tightly backstage after another successful show or interview, you would bite at his ears or kiss at his neck. When he stood behind you for any reason, you would languidly rub your butt into his crotch as you continued with whatever you were doing. When he would bring you a thick stack of handshake tickets, you would use innuendos and ‘accidentally’ share a dirty joke only he would understand.

You loved when he would tilt his head slightly so you could cover his throat in lipstick stains and hickeys when the two of you found time to be alone. You loved how willing Jade was to play the role of a toy for you. His only use was to help you relieve your stress and frustrations.

Your lack of an answer left his hands to tug nervously at the back of your dress. His hands anxiously fiddled with the thick red fabric now bunched in his grip as you licked and kissed the newly made hickey. It was bright red and irritated enough to bruise until your next date with Jade. No concert necessary. “You want to?” You whispered against his neck. You could hear his breath hitch as he shakily released your dress. “Please? Not out here…” He whimpered as you slowly withdrew your arms from around him. You wanted to force Jade against the wall and ride him until he fainted. You wanted to make him cum until he forgot his last name. You wanted Jade to fill you up over and over until you felt satisfied.

The walk to the dressing room felt like it was hours of travel, despite it being a relatively short walk. Your heart was pounding in your eardrums and you clung tightly to Jade’s arm. You had pretzeled your own arms around his with your fingers relaxing on the bare skin. You swore you could hear the skips in Jade’s heartbeat as well as the two of you reached the door with your stage name printed on the metal plate. Jade hesitated with his hand hovering over the knob before swiftly pushing it open. You released him from your grip as he allowed you to walk in first, with him only centimeter’s behind.

You paid no mind to your sore feet or any of the exhaustion you felt as Jade closed the door. You quickly herded him away from the door and pressed a hand against his stomach with a smile. “How long has it been?” You asked him softly as his cheeks became flushed with a red rouge. Your heels clicked against the tiled floor as you nudged him to sit in the leather vanity chair in front of the large makeup station. “Since we’ve..?” Jade trailed off, appearing dazed with widened eyes as your hands roughly yanked his belt free from his jeans. You discarded it behind you with a clattering sound of the buckle smacking into the hard tile. “Since I got to use my favorite toy?” You finished his sentence as he swallowed with excitement. You unbuttoned his jeans, watching with amusement as Jade’s nails began to dig into the cushion of the seat. His chest was rising and falling quickly as his mix-matched eyes watched your hands work. “You won’t answer me?” You cooed curiously as you began yanking his bottoms down his thighs along with his black briefs.

Jade’s eyes fell half lidded as his head lolled to the side, his hardening member was now freed from its confines, and was receiving a ‘handful’ of your attention. “It’s been too long… I didn’t realize how busy you would be…” He whimpered with his hips rutting into your palm. Your other hand slipped under your skirt and forced your white tights down your thighs, along with your panties. He was biting back his moans, throbbing and twitching in your palm as you grinned. Your face became hot as you pressed your knee into the leatherette cushion. “Did you touch yourself while I was busy?” You asked Jade as you began to adjust yourself to rest in his lap. You were starting to feel dizzy, the heat was getting to you. But you had needs that had to be met. His cock rested against your crotch, and you began slowly rolling your hips against him. His hardened cock was being coated in your sticky juices, making it shiny and easier to glide against. Jade shook his head as he began to unravel. “No… I- I wanted to wait.” His voice was weak and breathless as you massaged your aching clit against the veins of his cock with each slow rock. “I wanted us to feel good together.” He was always so honest, and that's what made you love him so much. “You’re such a good boy Jade. Do you want me to use you? To make us both feel good?” You asked him as you cupped his face in your hands. Your hips slowed to a stop as he nodded feverishly. “Please? Please let me feel good with you?” He begged with a breathless moan. His hips began jerking against you, begging for attention as you pressed your lips against Jade’s. The collision of your tongues left your head spinning as you melted into the wet smacks of your lips. The hungry kisses filled those lonely memories you had from the last few weeks. All of the moments you wished you could’ve spent with Jade. A shocked sound left your lips as Jade’s hands slipped beneath your dress and grabbed onto your hips. You made no move to stop him as he forced you to sit up on your knees and hover over his twitching cock.

It was a collision of moving hands as the two of you reached for his erection, guiding it inside of your warm and tight walls. The moment you seated yourself in his lap, you broke away from the kisses to exhale a whine. Your walls spasmed and twitched around the intrusion. You already felt close to an orgasm. Jade’s strong hands began to guide you into bouncing in his lap and the two of you quickly found a rhythm. But it wasn’t long before that became too little for Jade, who was just as impatient as you.

He buried his head into your shoulder, hands leaving your hips as he hugged you into his chest. He began to piston in and out of you, your legs bouncing with each rough thrust as you struggled to meet his pace. You were really, really starting to feel dizzy. You called out Jade’s name. But it fell from your lips disguised under a wanton moan you knew was too loud. The teal haired man didn’t notice the way you began clawing at his clothes, tugging them in your tight grip as your pussy began to flutter around him. You were cumming. You were going to cum with Jade. You babbled helplessly as Jade begged you to orgasm with him. To allow him to fill you with the thick seed he had been saving for you. To give him the pleasure he could only get from your body.

Thankfully he didn’t need you to respond. Because you had shuddered and screamed as you came undone. Your legs tensed up, cramping as you felt the world around you spin as black splotches dotted your vision with each intense clench around his cock. The feeling of Jade rutting into you was overstimulating, and when he pulsed deep inside of you… You became overwhelmed with ecstasy.

The slow rock of your hips against his left you lightheaded, your face hot as you laid against him with a dazed grin painting your face. You loved when Jade came to see you on stage. You loved his scent when you were done visiting with the fans. You loved the way his skin felt against yours as he thrusted into you when he felt jealous that so many people lined up to shake your hand. You became boneless against him in the seat. Your chorus of weak moans melted with his as you both huffed with exhaustion. You never had sex that was so exhausting, especially to the point of you losing consciousness.

You would definitely need that few days off.

Tagged Accounts: @candlewitch-cryptic

#demonic. requests #idol reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader smut #jade leech x mc #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu smut #jade leech x y/n #jade leech x yuu #jade leech smut

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jae-bummer · 10 months

Text

My Idol 3: Part Six

My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Saturday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in a specific mission to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what four idols will move on to the second date.

My Idol 3: The Series

Taking your hand gingerly into his, San gave you a questioning smile. It was difficult to describe the vibe he gave off, but you knew it was a good one. Looking down at your now intertwined fingers, you looked up again and gave a small nod of permission. This set his grin even wider as he looked from you and out to the grassy park you were walking across.

"I know it's kind of cliche," he began, his voice startlingly deep for his appearance. "Dates on the Han River...but I think you'll learn that I like cliches when it comes to romance."

"Oh yeah?" you chuckled, enjoying the feel of the sun on your face after being locked inside the hotel for so long. "Why's that?"

"I guess I've always daydreamed about love in a movie type way," he nodded. "Grand gestures and quiet, comfortable moments in between. Nothing has to be rushed when it's someone you really care about."

"You sound like a hopeless romantic," you hummed.

"I guess you're right," he chuckled. "Not like I can afford to be."

"Why not?" you asked, narrowing your eyes toward him.

After a pause, he began slowly. "It's better to choose my fans over romance. When I picked my profession, I knew I'd be making that decision."

Glancing over your shoulder at the cameras following you, you could only sigh. While the show gave ample opportunities to know quite a few wonderful guys, you often forgot how careful they had to be. One wrong comment and their career could be tainted.

Which made you wonder, of course fans were angry that their idols were dating through this program (your apartment was enough to confirm that) but it left you curious of the thoughts of other fans. Often negative opinions were the loudest, but you wanted to know the ones who recognized that their idols would have lives outside of their career.

Treading carefully, you asked. "What about this show? What do you think your fans would think of you making an appearance?"

San's eyes shot toward yours, then roamed around your face as he thought. "I think Atiny know that we will always be theirs, even when we're someone else's. And they're generous enough to know that we deserve all different types of love. At least I hope they do."

"It sounds like you have a very kind and wise fandom," you grinned encouragingly.

The tension that had slowly began to build in San's shoulders dropped a bit. "We have the best fans in the world."

Pulling you to a stop in front of the pop up tent you had seen earlier, he motioned to it. "This is our little hide out for the afternoon."

Breathing out a laugh through your nose, you were hit with how cute the set up was. It was growing increasingly clear that San had very definitively set this whole thing up. It had the touch of a guy just trying to do his best.

The inside of the tent looked very similar to a nest. Blankets, pillows, and an alarming amount of plushies were tossed into the small space. Battery-operated fairy lights were woven alone the inside of the tent, rather haphazardly, but as you looked closer, each little light proved to be a tiny flower. Toward the entrance of the tent, there were several boxes of chicken and a few frozen drinks. The stereotypical Han river date set up and ready.

"Did you do all this?" you laughed, ducking your head to see into the tent better.

San looked to his shoes, the tips of his ears slowly turning red. "My manager and I came out really early to pick the best spot. I brought blankets for when the sun starts to go down. I wasn't sure if you were a naturally warm or cold person, so I didn't want to risk it if you didn't bring a jacket. The plushies are all from my place...it's nice to have something to snuggle. And chicken because...well, that's what you do at the Han river."

"It's perfect," you said quietly, looking back up to find him staring at you.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes wide. A smile split his face as you could see pride take hold. "I was worried it'd be too cheesy. I know that it wasn't a very unique idea and in past seasons there were all these grand gestures..."

"I don't need grand gestures," you affirmed. "Remember when you were talking about the comfortable moments in between? That's what I want."

As you said it, you were mildly pleased to find yourself believing it. Your dates this season weren't over the top or adrenaline inducing, but every day moments you realized these idols didn't often get. You were already stressed enough with the mere idea of dating these impossibly unattainable people, let alone with the addition of fearing for your life after the break in. You liked that Jungkook, Hongseok, and San's date ideas were outrageously normal. When you thought of celebrity, you thought of someone trying to showboat or prove their worth. These men had just been humble and worried if you were going to have a good time.

"We shouldn't let the food get cold," San said, clearly pleased with your response. Helping you down, he chuckled as you plopped into the entrance of the tent and began to settle yourself in. He followed suit, groaning as he eased down beside you. Knees and shoulders jostling yours, you hadn't realized just how wide he was.

Digging around in the tent behind him, he pulled out a small, wooden tray and placed it in front of the two of you. After handing you a drink, he began to pull out the various dishes. They all looked delicious, and a few were even still steaming hot.

"I had my manager run out when they said you were on your way," he grinned, noting the look of surprise on your face. "I don't mind lukewarm food, but you deserve better."

"I don't mind it either," you laughed. "But I appreciate your consideration."

Pulling a blanket over his lap and offering up the other side to you, you nestled beside your date and started to eat.

Chewing in silence, you tried to assess San without clearly staring. His looks were fierce, his features almost feline. Sharp eyes, high cheekbones, and a defined jaw were all enough to make you swoon. That, added to the constant upward curve of his soft lips and catoonish twinkling in his eyes (you weren't lying, his eyes actually twinkled) was almost too much. You knew you would be dating men who were the pinnacle of beauty, but it was simply unfair that they had nice personalities as well.

"So what about you?" San asked, startling you out of your silence. Mid-bite of chicken, he looked toward you inquisitively.

"Was I not listening or did you leave out the first part of your question?" you laughed.

"Sorry," he squeaked, bowing his head in embarrassment. "Sometimes I get caught up in my own thoughts and verbalize it midway through."

"We all have our quirks," you hummed, taking a long sip of your drink. "What am I answering?"

"I was thinking about earlier, when you called me out as being a hopeless romantic," he began.

"I didn't have to call out anything," you chuckled. "You were making it abundantly clear."

"While that may be true!" he accepted. "I was wondering if you considered yourself to be the same?"

"A hopeless romantic?" you pondered. "I guess to some extent."

San tilted his head, waiting quietly for you to continue.

"I may be too much of a realist to be a complete hopeless romantic," you sighed. "I really like the idea though."

San lifted his brows, still waiting.

"Everyone wants their magical fairy tale, in whatever form it takes for them," you said, finally giving up and deciding to fully explain. "Of course I've had dreams since I was a kid of being swept off of my feet by a savior, someone who could protect me. Life was rough and I was far too sensitive for a lot of things I faced. Even when I thought I was tough, my insides were like tofu. That being said, I have to be realistic. Not everything is going to be exactly like those dreams I fantasized about."

"Why not?"

"What?" you asked, caught off guard.

"Why can't everything be like your dreams?"

"I think all of our dreams end up being watered down versions of what we first imagined," you sighed. "I sound terribly cynical right now, don't I?"

"When life is hard, it makes us a cynic," he said. Patting your knee lightly, he smiled sadly. "But I don't think that means you should settle."

"If I don't settle, I may not end up with anything," you laughed.

"And would that really be all that bad?" he asked. "Ending up with nothing or being constantly disappointed every day?"

You hated that there was a note of truth to what he was saying. You assumed as an idol, that feeling of loneliness wasn't foreign at all. Ending up with nothing was almost the norm.

"But you'll find what you deserve, little dubu," he nodded, taking another bite of chicken.

You wrinkled your nose, immediately recognizing the word "dubu" as the Korean word for tofu.

"Did I just unintentionally help you to create a nickname for me?" you wondered out loud.

"I love tofu," he smiled innocently. "I'll even let you call me Mountain in return."

That made sense seeing as how "san" literally translated to Mountain.

"Tofu and Mountain," you hummed. "Quite the pair, aren't we?"

"The mountain will protect his little tofu," he teased. "And make all of their dreams come true."

"That's an awfully high bar to set for yourself," you said, shaking your head. He was precious.

"What's the point of setting a bar if it's not high?" he chimed.

The two of you continued your small talk as you watched other couples and families strolling along the river. Things were surprisingly cozy with San. When you had first shown up for your date, you were off the charts with nerves, but he had seemed to calm you down instantly. It was easy to forget about all of the other terrible things going on when he was your buffer to the world.

"Mission," a voice grunted just as you had forgotten that a mission existed at all.

"Ah," San hissed. "I was waiting for this."

"It's no big deal," you nodded confidently. You hadn't failed a challenge yet.

"You're due for a penalty," he grimaced. "I've seen the other episodes. You passed with flying colors before. Probability is not on our side."

"Now look who's being a cynic," you said, sticking your tongue out at San. Reaching over and grabbing the red envelope from one of the producers, you settled into your spot again. "Should you do the honors?"

"I guess," he grumbled, gently taking the envelope from your hands. Ripping it down the side, he slid a thick piece of paper out. Reading it once, then twice, he looked up with wide eyes.

"That bad?" you croaked.

"A Bicycle Made for Two: Pick up your tandem bike and ride it 400 meters without stopping."

"400 meters?" you groaned. "I can't ride a normal bike that well."

"No stopping?" San asked, quirking a brow. "What if someone steps in the way?"

"We have the sidewalk blocked off," one of the producers confirmed. "Safety precaution."

Right.

"Well," San muttered, pulling himself to a standing position. He offered you a hand. "How's your balance?"

"It's going to be okay," San assured, clicking the strap to the helmet closed under your chin.

You weren't sure which had your heart going more quickly, the task at hand or his face so close to yours.

"Worse comes to worse, we do the stupid penalty," you sigh.

"We've got this," San said, leaning forward and tapping his helmet lightly against yours. The small gesture was enough to fill your chest with warmth even though you very much did not have this.

San opted to take the front part of the bike, as he was obviously more athletic and likely had better reflexes than yours. Settling in behind him, you clutched at the small handles and tried to swallow down the potential for anxiety vomit.

"Put your foot on the right pedal," San instructed, taking control of the situation. "On the count of three, we'll kick off with our left foot and start going. Sound good?"

"Good," you chirped, but you were lying. Nothing about the situation sounded particularly good.

"One, two," he said cheerfully. "Three!"

Doing as San had instructed, you kicked off with your left foot and began to push yourself forward. Surprisingly, the movement was synchronized enough to get the two of you moving forward. Letting out a chuckle of relief, you basked in the small win. Now you just had to worry about staying on for 400 meters.

"How you doing back there?" San asked, calling over his shoulder. You looked up to see his wide shoulders in front of you, flexed as his arms gripped the handlebars in front of him. It was honestly delicious.

"Still alive!" you called back. Watching yourselves move steadily along the sidewalk was almost intoxicating. You were really doing it.

Looking back toward the park area, you couldn't help but notice the fans that had accumulated at the barricades security had set up. That feeling of success was instantly snuffed out by the fear of the unknown.

"San," you said, trying to tamper down the whine in your voice. "There's so many people."

"It's okay," he said, having to shout to be heard (which unfortunately nullified the comforting effect you knew he was going for).

"San," you tried again, growing increasingly wary of a large throng of fans ahead of you. "San, I don't feel comfortable."

"What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder again in an attempt to get a clear line of contact in the precarious situation.

"San!" you gasped, finally halting your peddling as you saw a figure approaching the two of you. A girl seemed to have broken through the barrier and had begun sprinting in your direction.

San directed his focus to where you were pointing and let out a shout of alarm. The back of the bike began to fishtail as you had stopped peddling, but San was trying to get ahead of the fan. You attempted to find your footing again, but were failing miserably as the pedals circled faster and faster.

Just as you thought you would be intercepted by the unknown girl, your security guard, Hyuk came out of no where. Taking the fan roughly to the ground just in front of you, you let out a cry. San had over-corrected to avoid the altercation and was sending the bike toward the railing separating the sidewalk from the river.

Slamming the front tire into the guard rail, San flew off the side of the bike and toward the ground. With your position, you were lucky enough to slide off of the back, quickly catching yourself with little effort. Your hands instantly began to fidget at your helmet, desperate to fling it off.

That was when you began to focus on the scene around you. San was on the ground, unmoving.

"San!" you gasped, forgetting about your helmet struggle and rushing over to him.

"I'm okay," he grumbled with a wince. He was laying face down, his arms pinned beneath him, having failed to catch himself in time.

"Let's get you up," you said quietly, lightly grabbing his shoulder closest to you. You could hear his stuttered breathing as he attempted to push himself away from the ground, but ultimately let out a loud groan as he flopped down again.

"What?" you gasped, pulling your hands away. You didn't want to add any unnecessary pain.

"My wrist," he whined. Furrowing his brows again, he began to push himself up with only one hand. Coming to a sitting position, he looked toward you with a frown. You crouched in front of him and began to analyze the arm in question.

You hoped it wasn't a break, but something was definitely wrong. The area was already swollen and red with irritation.

"Come here," you said quietly, trying to fight the tears threatening of spilling over. You quickly freed him of his helmet and suppressed the urge to wrap him in a hug.

"Medic!" one of the producers shouted over the chaos. "We need a medic!"

"Really screwed that one up, didn't I?" San laughed bitterly. He was safely settled in the back of the My Idol SUV, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"There was no good way for that to end," Hyuk grumbled from the seat in front of you, flexing his own hand. When he had tackled the girl, the medic was pretty certain he had broken a few fingers.

"We're honestly lucky that it wasn't worse," you said, gnawing on your lip. You were huddled beside your date, a light hand placed on his knee. For whatever reason, you felt responsible for this.

"At least it's just a sprain," San nodded, flexing his fingers now wrapped in bandages. "I can work with a sprain."

"I'm so sorry this happened," you sighed. "Things were going so well."

"You can't help third parties trying to sabotage the situation," Hyuk continued, his voice deadpanned.

"I just can't believe a fan would do that," San clucked, shaking his head. "And don't apologize, dubu. None of this was your fault."

Sure, it wasn't. But what if someone breaking into your apartment was making fans more bold? What if things were only going to get worse? You couldn't mentally handle the burden of innocent people getting caught in the crossfire.

"Hey," San said quietly, breaking through your thoughts. "Look at me."

You begrudgingly glanced up into San's smiling eyes.

"I'm okay."

"I know, but-"

"No," he chuckled, shaking his head. "No "buts." I may not be 100%, but I am close. What happened today sucked, but it didn't take back the moments I got to share with you."

"You're just saying that because you have to," you grumbled.

"Who says I have to?" he asked indignantly. "We're not being filmed anymore, right?"

"Well, yeah," you pouted, crossing your arms.

This caused San to laugh and shake his head. Reaching for the hand you had taken from his knee, he pulled it back toward him and interlaced your fingers. "You're so cute."

"Mmm," you scoffed.

San played with your palm, waiting patiently for you to sort through the thoughts tornado-ing around your head. Finally, you looked toward him and tried to control the tears accumulating on your lash line. "I was scared."

"Dubu," he cooed, opening his blanket and pulling you in close. "I know. I was scared too."

You sniffed despite yourself. "Did you really have a good time?"

"I did," he nodded happily. "We got through that little hiccup. It'll be smooth sailing from here on out."

"Right," you muttered. "Now you get to be locked in a hotel room for the next few weeks. When you finally get a taste of freedom, you get to look forward to being told if the audience thinks we deserve to see each other again."

"Even if they don't," he hummed. "I'll see you again some time. Even if it's just as a friend. The mountain will always protect his dubu."

"Saaaan," you groaned, both loving and hating the nickname he created.

"That's Mountain to you," he chuckled.

Crinkling your nose, your eyes found his. He had such a pure and genuine expression on his face, it was hard to think that anything could have went wrong today.

Being in such close proximity, it was easy to notice the small motion of him licking his lips. You zeroed in on his mouth, instantly regretting it as he smirked. "I don't kiss on a first date."

"I didn't - I wasn't," you stuttered.

His smirk grew into a full grin as he reached up with his bandaged hand and lightly cradled your jaw. You didn't think you were even breathing as he slowly leaned down...

...and rubbed his nose gently back and forth against yours.

Pulling away again, he smiled. "Next time..."

#bts #got7 #monsta x #seventeen #svt #pentagon #ateez #stray kids #skz #ateez san #san #choi san #san x reader #san fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #san fanfic

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dorizardthewizard · 4 months

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Galactik Football season 3 rewatch, eps 10 - 12

Episode 10:

So we open up with Yuki getting mad at Micro-Ice and thinking Zoleen is his girlfriend, and Mice is dumb enough to not reject that claim when she asks him directly if they're going out. He also barely acknowledges Yuki's birthday despite previously rehearsing this dramatic confession of love to her. Thran and Ahito are literally, and I mean literally the only Snow Kids that don't have any love drama going on (I know Mark's got something coming) and every single one has revolved around love triangles, whether misunderstood or not. I can't take this anymore, I'm at my limit.

Anyway, *hits play again*

Since when did this Cyclops dude have a wholeass funded show, when he wasn't even a proper journalist before?

WOOWAMBOO RETIREMENT RUMOUR?! SAY IT AIN'T SO!

Oh christ this is the start of the Sinedd parents arc isn't it. Holy shit they try to stuff so much into this season. But happy we finally got the backstory on Sinedd with him not being born on Akillian!

I can barely watch this segment holy shit it's just so awful (in universe, I mean, not the writing). Not just because I know they're con artists but it's so sudden, Hush Sharky making a whole spectacle of this on live TV in front of an audience and Sinedd had NO IDEA that he was going to meet his freaking PARENTS. WHO HE THOUGHT WERE DEAD ALL HIS LIFE. This emotional and insanely personal moment being used for entertainment fits with the corporate hellscape that the show takes place in, but what the hell. He has the full right to be pissed at Sharky.

Not the con artist parents running off immediately when the ground starts shaking 😭 Parents my ass

lol of course Micro-Ice has to fall in the cake. I think they use him for slapstick too much in this season

Tbf I quite like the villains in this season, it's an interesting dynamic with Lord Phoenix having his own motives but losing control of Vega

Sinedd's reunion with his parents is a pretty sweet moment if it weren't for the fact that IT'S A LIEEEE ToT.

Aarch yelling at Artegor about Adim... all this drama...

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTIINNNNGGNGNGG and it's so silly

This is how I picture it

Is that the fucking Netherball music

The little TV spots with Yuki and Mei talking about each other before the match are cute! Makes the world feel more lived in and gives us some more interactions between the girls, even if not directly face to face here

I like Mei berating Sinedd for taunting Yuki when she's injured but... girl. He was always like this. You knew this. Why are you surprised?? They never actually showed him becoming a better person, just that he suddenly liked Mei and convinced her to join the Shadows. And Mei does not strike me as a poor judge of character so why would she date him....?

Wow Elektras not letting Mei through to help her friend? Why? They were literally celebrating her birthday together tf??

Poor Yuki, what a shitshow of a match for her although she did score a goal (I'm guessing the Breath is more powerful than the Elektra's flux since she's running in to attack). Loved her lil' chat with Mei though, I will say this season gave us more of the girls in the team being friends which I really do appreciate.

Here for the other Shadows players cooing and awing at Sinedd with his parents, I want to see more of what the team dynamic is like since they seemed to welcome him quickly back in season 1

Thran coming through with his tech knowledge!

Episode 11:

Does Bennett just carry a harmonica on him all the time haha

Harvey fought in the flux war?? ok cool lore I guess?????

Corso wondering whether to trust Sonny just because he didn't bring up Magnus straight away is a bit weird? I just feel that with all they've been through, it would take more for Corso to start questioning his faith in Sonny. This is also like, a 5 minute plot point that goes nowhere so why???

Tia talking with her parents about her concerns is an improvement from what their relationship used to be like in season 1, it's good to see!

Oh so Mei is a striker now. Is this implying that Mei's decision was influenced by her mother? Weren't we over that?? Still kind of sad to see her mum dismiss the SK and seem like she's still the same. Mei probably feels she'll never be good enough for her.

Not Sinedd complimenting D'jok just to be polite to Maya 😂 But what do you mean they haven't met yet? It's literally this season (I think?) that shows Sinedd was friends with D'jok when they were young kids! Maya hangs out with Mama Ice at the cafeteria as well, there's no way they've never interacted before!

Yeah Tia, it WAS stupid of you to be jealous of Lun-Zia. Weird though bc the show previously implied Lun-Zia liked Rocket but turns out she had a boyfriend all along?

Aarch: Artegor? Aarch: I'm sorry we started a bit earlier today, I forgot to mention it

Aarch you're such a petty bitch 😭

Oooo Micro-Ice is up for kick-off. Seeing them antagonistic towards each other is so sad :( Although season 1 Micro-Ice would have found a way to roast D'jok lol

I just realised team Paradisia and the Elektras probably have visors so they can have more diverse character designs in the 2D animation, while still copy-pasting models in the 3D scenes lol

Go Mark! Why did the goalkeeper run out from the goal I don't know anything about football

Nice to see Mark and Micro-Ice working together and having fun

D'jok's plan being to pass to Nikki-4 because the SK will think he's too selfish to let someone else score is so fucking funny

Oooo you don't get penalty shootouts that often in GF

I do love and miss sassy D'jok

Nikki-4: I guess you'll always be a Snow Kid at heart D'jok: At least I've got one

Bold claim with the way you've been acting, D'jok

Niki-4 threatening physical violence on D'jok lmaoo I guess she is a cyborg but it's weird D'jok actually held out until now with the way he's been acting towards the SK. Why does he suddenly now have a moral dilemma?

Episode 12:

Now to rant about the Ahito betrayal plot <3

Ok this how to beat Ahito thing is dumb from the get go. It's treated like some big secret and it would be a big betrayal to reveal it, but that's not how sports work. They could easily have figured out his weak points by just watching a load of videos of his saves, in fact they SHOULD have been doing this anyway – the best teams don't win just by playing their best, but by knowing their opponent's strengths and weaknesses and being able to exploit that! It's not dishonest it's just... how it works! Rocket was doing this back in season 1 when he was suggesting tactics!

So to treat it like a big betrayal to reveal something that's easily obtainable public knowledge is dumb. And also, they're treating this as if knowing a player's weakness is some magic key that means they can definitely beat him if they exploit it, which is... also not how sports work!! It's not like he'll definitely fail to save your shot if you hit in a certain way, and it's not like he can't adjust his play after you score a goal. It just.... it makes no sense!!

It was also kind of weird to hear D'jok talk about wanting to win honestly when he was fouling Warren last match and got scolded for disrespecting the game, they made it look like D'jok fully only cared about winning now, whatever the cost, but now suddenly he's having second thoughts and doesn't want to betray a team he's been shit-talking all this time?

I also don't like that what made him cave in the end was mind control, it takes away a lot of accountability. It also would have fit more for D'jok to continue doing anything it takes to win, so he can realise he's wrong later and that he's just been using that to run away from his feelings. As stupid as this “betrayal” is, it should have been his low point showing how far gone he is, his big mistake, that he can then work up from.

Rant over <3

Nork, commenting on a player's health problems is just rude

Of course Rocket starts feeling ill the second he has to go up

THRAN SCORES!!! Nice to see him do some shots

Goooo Lun-Zia! She's been a good addition

Last season I got sad that Micro-Ice was the first to flunk his shot, please don't let me down this time

YESSSSS

D'jok: Ahito always jumps in place, a little more to the side he's gonna leap to. He can't control it, it's stronger than he is!

And THAT's the way to beat him? Totally foolproof? Bruh. If all the SK knew this and it's sooooo easy to score against him once you figure it out, surely Aarch should have.... I don't know, helped him train so that he doesn't reveal which way he's jumping as easily?? THIS IS EASILY DISCOVERABLE INFORMATION GUYS THE POINT OF TRAINING IS TO IMPROVE ON YOUR WEAKNESSES

NOOOOO TIA OF ALL PEOPLE???!!! I HAD TO TRADE A MICRO-ICE GOAL WITH THIS? 😭😭😭 It happens though. Also weird she's the first to use her flux so far for this like, it's penalties. You don't have to conserve your energy, just use the goddamn Breath!

TT^TT Nooooo they look so devastated :( On the other hand, kind of crazy it took three seasons for them to actually lose an important match lol it's been win win win the whole time so far, so kind of refreshing.

I want to cheer on Mei for putting Sinedd in his place after shit-talking the Snow Kids but like, girl, HOW IS THIS SURPRISING?! HE'S BEEN LIKE THIS IN EVERY MATCH YOU'VE PLAYED AGAINST EACH OTHER, YOUR LAST INTERACTION BEFORE SEASON 3 WAS HIM PUSHING YOU TO THE GROUND AND THREATENING YOU!!!

She thought he only hated D'jok and now she's realising he's just nasty to everyone? Girl where were you when he was bullying Micro-Ice on your team lol. I mean she didn't care back then but she does now! Mei is not dumb, writers

That was a pretty good pick me up speech, Aarch

The animation makes this kind of funny out of context but, Artegor hesitantly reaching out to Aarch but then thinking better of it... aarrrrgh </3

Quick shoutout to the background designs in this show, they look really cool and I love how it's futuristic while still being colourful and bright. There's some beautiful art of the natural scenery too

What's up with reporters immediately wondering if a team is done for, or the coach might be resigning, after ONE loss? They're still GF champions, losing once doesn't mean it's all downhill from there

Adim standing up for her man <3

In this dub he calls her Mum-Ice lmao. So I guess it is just Mama-Ice? I do prefer the novelisation with her actual name, she's not mum to everyone, although I wouldn't mind having -Ice at the end of a name being some family tradition or cultural thing. Also love seeing her hanging out with Maya!

Poor Kernor just can't eat her ice cream in peace huh 😭

Aww Mama-Ice's speech is so sweet

Aarch needs a new start now more than ever? Why exactly?

Norata dancing in the back <3

Holy shit, Brim Simbra actually intervening?

Oooooo secret supplier guy was Harris all along, who would have guessed?

Huh looking at the ending screen of this youtube upload, I didn't know Robotboy was Gaumont animation too! Well probably Alphanim back then

#galactik football #dori watches galactik football #my posts

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