#even though that’s the least productive option

[wonitten]

DETECTIVE TROUBLEMAKER (YJ)

Part 2. Part 1 ; Part 3

synopsis: In a desperate attempt to salvage her career, a klutzy detective plans to kidnap a corrupt minister as part of her final assignment. However, her plans go hilariously awry when she mistakenly kidnaps a charming mafia boss instead. But perhaps there was more to it.

pairings: Mafia boss! Jungwon x detective! reader ft. Boss! Heeseung, assistant! Sunghoon

genre: Comedy, romance(but like one sided and they both are delusional), crime, Dramedy

warnings: gunshots, koala slander and the real truth about them, brace yourself

wc: 1.1k

It was a bustling evening, and despite the fatigue creeping into your legs, you stood patiently in line at the downtown café. The reason? Well, it's pretty simple.

You had kidnapped someone—let's say a mafia boss—wrongly, and now you found yourself in a rather awkward situation. Attempting to make amends, you offered to treat him to his favorite meal. But just as he was about to name an upscale restaurant that your broke self definitely wouldn't survive, you impulsively interjected with, "I know a place!".

The place turned out to be your average-public-cafe-very-long-line-busy, in short—help me, I think he is going to strangle me.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed your victim staring at you, his left eye twitching, before his gaze shifted to the long line. Was this going well? No—yes, think positively. At least it was the most productive day of your month, as a detective.

It reminds you how you briefly considered informing your boss about your impromptu meeting with Jungwon, but dismissed the idea. Jungwon seemed capable of eliminating you before your boss could intervene. Yes, he was short, but he exuded the kind of gremlin energy that could erupt at any moment.

Finally reaching the counter, you joyfully placed your order.

"Eating here or...?" the server asked, drawing out the question. Well, you wasted a lot of his time so it's probably the other option.

"Pack it up," you replied.

Carrying the packed strawberry cake and coffee, you approached Jungwon, placing the items in front of him. He looked puzzled, which you obviously didn't notice. "I figured you wouldn't want to spend any more time with me, so I had them pack it up. I can go now, right?" you said, forcing a smile.

"I knew you were dense, but I didn't know you were that dense," Jungwon remarked with a sigh.

Your frown deepened at his words. "Excuse me? What do you mean by dense?" you asked defensively before scoffing and rolling your eyes. "...you know what? I gave you what you wanted, so I believe I am perfectly allowed to go."

"Wait, that's not what I—"

Exiting the café onto the secluded street, the chaos of the city faded into a distant hum. Jungwon's words lingered, leaving you bothered.

I know you are dense

"So what"

But I didn't know you were that dense

"Say that to your mom", you scoffed.

Though your thoughts were momentarily cut short as you felt a tight grip on your wrist, sending a jolt of fear coursing through your veins. The person pulled you closer, as loud gunshots rang out, filling the air with chaos. It took a moment for you to register the familiar scent of Jungwon's body shielding you from harm, and the bullet that was aimed at you.

"You...?", you whisper, looking up at him in a shock.

Jungwon held a gun, aiming towards the perpetrator who had shot at you, though you had dodged it thanks to him. You realized you had narrowly escaped death without even realizing it. A sigh of relief escaped you as you looked at the unknown assailant in the distance, now long gone.

"Are you okay?" Jungwon asked, looking down at you with genuine concern. Maybe you were wrong; maybe Jungwon was tall after all. "Hey, Koala, I asked you something. Are you okay?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks burning as your eyes made a contact with his glistening neck. You gulped looking away, avoiding his gaze.

See Heeseung, it is this easy to make my heart flutter. What is stopping you!?

"Wait, why did you call me Koala, and why did you save me? I could have died, but it's not like it matters to you," you muttered, looking up at him, only to see a small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, that was my enemy aiming at you, and why I saved you...," he leaned closer, almost too close for comfort. "Is also the reason why I called you a Koala."

"Tch... what kind of answer is that? And why would your enemy aim at me?"

"He probably thought we were on a date," Jungwon replied casually.

Your face contorted into a mixture of disgust and panic as you immediately backed away. No, you were loyal to Heeseung and still needed to score a date with him. "Thank you, Mr. Yang, but I think this meet has to be cut short. Umm... I will go now."

"I could take you home?" Jungwon offered.

"No! Nope! Thanks. Nope," you shook your head, backing away. "I will go now. My house is nearby, anyway."

Watching you retreat with a mixture of confusion and frustration, Jungwon couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt at your reaction. "Why is she acting like I'm a plague?" he muttered to himself, his usually composed demeanor faltering for a moment.

He shook his head, and grabbed his phone to dial his assistant, making arrangements to leave. "Come to take me now, Sunghoon."

"Okay! I will come right up—"

"Sunghoon...?", Jungwon couldn't help but let his irritation seep into his voice as he interrupted his assistant.

"Yes boss?"

"My friend has a girl, and he proposed a date indirectly to her, but like she didn't get it," Jungwon mutters, thinking about the scenario. "But when he asked indirectly again if they were on a date, she looked at him in disgust, panicked kind of way, which is weird because why would anyone not go on a date with him? He is literally a whole package."

"Either he is stupid, she is stupid or the girl has someone she likes? Can I get the name of the girl you like so I can research about her?", Sunghoon says.

"Yeah her name is....", Jungwon paused, as his assistant's words sinks in his mind. "Wait. It's not me!".

"Whatever you say boss"

Meanwhile, minutes after returning home, you couldn't shake the events of the day from your mind. Searching for distractions online, you stumbled upon an article about koalas and Jungwon's nickname for you. "I mean, why would he call me a koala? I only want to know that."

Frustration bubbled up inside you as you clicked on the link.

Reasons why Koalas are the dumbest animal on earth — by Ian O' Grady

You might think koalas are cute, but sometimes the cutest things have the dumbest minds. Koalas don’t have the capacity to understand rain, so they sit there getting wet without understanding why. They don’t even bother to try to cover themselves.

Koalas insist on eating nothing but a mildly toxic plant that gives them no energy, which is why they have to spend 18–22 hours sleeping because they literally wreck themselves with their diet. They might as well eat dirt, which they do.

"Did he just call me dumb and to eat dirt? Screw you, Yang Jungwon! You're dead the next time I see you!", you yelled loudly inside your room, throwing your pillow onto the wall.

Anger flared within you, though you kind of failed to comprehend the first sentence. Hah... it's going to take time.

Series Tag list: @drunkhee @booooooooooooooooooooooos @suhiiiiiii @mrsyangsikmoa @nyfwyeonjun

Author's note: See that passionate kdrama look on the koala? It's probably thinking what the fuck is happening to him, not realising that it's just raining, and the little boy is at risk of having fever or diseases. But no— they are still stuck at "what the fuck is this".

#enhypen #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #jungwon #jungwon enhypen #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon #enhypen soft hours #sunghoon #yang jungwon #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung

[greenflower21]

Trying to decide if I should:

Work on my Satine Week fics

Work on my Obi Wan mini bang fic

Write and research my 3 seminar papers

Draw Chabadnik Din Djarin

Draw Bob Dylan as Commander Cody

#Bob Dylan Cody is currently what I’m leaning toward #even though that’s the least productive option #my seminar papers should probably take priority #but I’ve been reading early medieval biblical commentary all day there’s only so much of that a girl can take #grad student #grad school #grad school problems

[torchickentacos]

So my sister and I were talking and this happened (a masterpiece made in 30 seconds) (long tags)

#ok ngl lumity hasn't really captured me like a lot of ships do #idk why but it's like. i enjoy it but am not invested #BUT #there ARE parralels even if i don't think they were done as well as contestshipping #any gripes i have with it are mostly due to production issues though #mostly it just lacked the slowburn enemies to friends to lovers #bc shows used to have a bajillion episodes #and now it's struggling to fit a complete story into what the studios let them have #back in MY day (lol) shows had so much time that half the episodes had characters just fuckin around kicking sand on the beach or some shit #naruto. pokemon. fairy tail. lookin at you guys #but like. at least that means we have time for just FUN and not plot #these days every episode jams so much plot into it that there's no time to breathe #where's the TOMFOOLERY #THE SHENANIGANS #THE MAYHEM AND FOOLISHNESS #THE. CHARACTER PERSONALITY BUILDING IN OTHERWISE IRRELEVANT EPISODES #for all my complaints about pokemon advanced (whom i love dearly) at least they had time to do fuck all in the middle of a forest #it was kinda boring sometimes but at least they had the option to just. do nothing some days #granted it's the opposite extreme where we get ten episodes of eh in a row but still #i prefer that

[stevebabey]

Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.

Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.

But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.

Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.

It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.

It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.

She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.

Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.

It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.

He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.

Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.

So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.

He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.

Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.

Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—

“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.

“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.

Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.

“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”

“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”

God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.

“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”

There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.

“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”

He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.

Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.

“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.

“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.

That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.

“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.

“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”

He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.

“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.

“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”

In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.

Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”

Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.

“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”

“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.

If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.

“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”

Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.

“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.

Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.

“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.

So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.

It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.

now with a part two!

#woag yearning hours bro #[into a megaphone] if u project onto steve harrington put ur hands UP #i literally came home tonight like. hm might have to ask one of my flatmates for a hug #and when they go ??? whats wrong (cos this bitch never hugs) #i was fully prepared 2 be like o it has just been too long since someone touched me haha! #like thats not zeeeeeeeee most pathetic shit ever (pathetic if its me. not if its YOU) #anyways. steve get hug where ruby cannot #<3 #eddie would give delicious hugs u can't change my mind #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch starved steve harrington #that bitch needs a hug #ruby writes steddie #i rlly. came home and was like BLEH feeling dump and its like 2.6k. ok girl

[matrixbearer2024]

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE “GET OFF MY SCREEN” SERIES

I can’t stop thinking about the idea of Reader playing video games and Vox is just watching like it’s a twitch stream and judging their gaming skills and even backseat gaming 😭😭

It’s like my brain is working overtime thinking of this AU

Oh Shut Up Vee!

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Yeah- I'm pretty sure Vox would literally dunk on the non-gamer Readers out there, hell- he'd probably find our concept of horror games pretty tame compared to what he sees and deals with daily in hell. Though I'm pretty sure Vox himself would backseat game the fuck out of you- he's not that great at video games either. He just doesn't have the time to really get into them aside from the basics HAHAHAHA- I'll still be writing scenarios and just adding them into the masterlist if you guys think of any. As always, I hope you guys enjoy and happy reading!

"Wow, doll- you... kinda suck at this."

"Vox shut up and let me focus."

You cursed under your breath as you continued to mash buttons.

The loud repeated clicking from your incessant spamming kind of made Vox cringe.

He didn't even want to imagine what you'd do to your keyboard when you were fuming-

Your poor controller was just not having a good day-

So... how did you end up like this?

It was another long weekend for you with the back-to-back holidays around the corner.

So of course you kind of spent it doing whatever you could possibly think of.

Productive or not you didn't really care.

In this instance-

You chose to play some fighting games with a friend online.

It wasn't your preferred genre of game, but it was better than boredom.

So you plugged your computer into the TV to get a bigger view of the game-

Only for Vox to end up popping in at some random point in your session.

He could see your game like a stream from his end, moving it to a separate screen so he could still watch your reactions.

You on the other hand had to deal with a slightly obstructive minimized box on the screen at all times.

At least he tried to stay out of the way-

"Aaaaand you're dead again-"

"FUUUUUCK!!!!"

You wanted to chuck your controller into the ground at this point-

But those things were expensive so you just put it down on the coffee table and started violently punching the shit out of a nearby pillow.

"Seriously, you've just got to punch the dude and block- it's not that hard."

Vox had been watching you play for a little over thirty minutes by now.

And you've probably won like... thrice?

Out of twenty matches?

Not a great looking statistic in his opinion.

You glared up at his minimized face on the TV and huffed.

"If it's so easy why don't you face me head on then huh? Coward!"

"Fine, but don't cry if I end up kicking your ass!"

Vox ended up shooting back, already messing with your computer settings to make way for a local player 2.

Of course most games had that option anyway, it just wasn't immediately recognized by the game since you didn't plug another controller in.

Vox wasn't exactly being arrogant this time either.

He knew his way around video games, and given his profession and work-

That wasn't really surprising.

Though, he wasn't an avid gamer or anything like that.

Lord knows he's too busy to even try-

But he wasn't going to be dumbfounded simply because of complicated controls.

So here's the hilarious fine print our tech savvy TV man didn't realize.

You weren't actually a bad player when it came to 2D fighters.

It just so happened that your friend was quite well-versed in that kind of game.

In reality- you were losing because they were just that good.

And it easily showed when you fought against your overlord buddy.

"NOT SO EASY NOW IS IT ASSHOLE?!"

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! PUSSY!!!"

You laughed upon seeing Vox's minimized face on the TV just glitch and fizzle as he continued to swear up a storm.

Serves him right for underestimating you, but it was still hilarious seeing him just completely lose it after only five rounds.

Well, five rounds where your game character royally kicked his shins in but who's counting?

He continued to just lag and glitch while possibly exhausting every expletive known to the English dictionary.

You on the other hand-

You just calmly and smugly drank some water and watched the chaos.

Who was the raging pissbaby now huh?

It only made you laugh so much harder when his face disappeared off the TV and you realize he'd disconnected.

Bro really just left because he got extremely skill-issued.

You continued to play for a little while longer-

Without any spectators this time-

Before your phone buzzed with a message.

You were initially a little excited before realizing it was just a friend inviting you to go out.

That hope was pretty short-lived.

A part of you kinda wanted it was Vox, and that he would've forgiven you for sort of hurting his ego by now-

Honestly he was asking for it with the backseat gaming earlier so you weren't really sorry-

But it wasn't and you reckoned it probably won't be him for another few hours.

Taking up on your friend's offer though, you figured it wouldn't be so bad to just go shopping or something.

Maybe you could even bring back a gift for your pissy TV companion.

Vox spent nearly the entire day just trying to calm down by throwing himself into his work.

He was so confident he would be able to beat or even match you, only to lose fucking spectacularly.

He slightly wondered if the whole reason he was even this irritated by it was because he wanted to show off to you.

Ya know, make it seem like he had the skills to pay the bills and all that jazz?

It was just a video game but still-

The embarrassment and your laughing at him didn't help.

That and his continued losses reminded him of that one time Alastor bullied him so badly that the entire pentagram city lost power.

He was glad he didn't really get to that point this time, even if he was already on the cusp of it from anger.

His phone buzzed to life from where it was on the coffee table in front of him, snapping the overlord out of his thought train and back to reality.

Vox slightly glared at his phone, he wasn't over his losses quite yet and chose to ignore it.

"Aren't you gonna answer that?"

"I'll get to it later."

Velvette was just sitting on the couch next to him, raising an eyebrow at her colleague's more than peculiar behavior.

Especially when Vox looked at his own phone like it had personally scorned him.

First it was him brushing both her and Valentino off because of some living person who'd apparently caught his fancy.

Then it was him totally careening off the rails when said individual went and got themselves into a relationship.

Eugh- the amount of times she's had to drag his drunken ass into bed otherwise he'd fall asleep anywhere else when it happened-

Not that Valentino helped much, constantly singing a tune of "I told you so" only rubbed salt into the wound.

Only for Vox to eventually be okay again, or at least tolerable and stable.

The fact he kept swinging so far left and then so far right whenever this living person got involved was both hilarious and exhausting to watch.

Velvette tried to pry sometimes, now that Vox had nothing to hide-

Only for him to still be uptight with what he knew and where his stance was.

What a killjoy.

"What if it's your girlfriend?"

The tech overlord just sputtered and looked at the other Vee next to him with a confused and slightly embarrassed expression.

Meanwhile Vel simply had a deadpan at her currently glitching companion.

"I- zZzST- They're n-N-not my girlfriend!!!"

Vox cursed his systems for nearly overloading from just a simple tease.

Immediately glitching and buffering as he tried to calm himself back down.

It wasn't like him to lose his cool so quickly-

That slightly worried him.

"Oh yeah? Maybe stop gushing over anything on your phone and I'll believe ya."

"F-f-FuCk you Velv-vVetTe."

Vox just grabbed his phone and left, heading towards his monitor room with a grumble.

His colleague's words just replayed in his head as he traversed the halls.

Girlfriend...

As fucking if.

It didn't explain why he felt a sense of dejection though.

His phone buzzed again, this time he checked it.

"You didn't reply so I dunno if you saw my message but I wanted to say I just went out for a quick trip to the mall earlier. I'm back home and the computer's connected to the TV again if you wanna talk."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a bit."

Staring at his phone after he hit the send button-

Vox felt a little annoyed with himself for agreeing so quickly.

It was like he couldn't even stop himself from wanting to be near you.

He must've been really just fucked up over earlier.

By the time Vox had connected once again to your TV, you were on the couch messing with something in your hands.

"Ah- Vox! Look, about a while ago-"

"If you're going to apologize because you beat my ass at a game, don't bother. You won fair and square, I just have to get better at it to beat you next time."

"Sooooo... you're not mad?"

"Irritated, but not mad."

He swore he heard you mumble about there not being much of a difference but didn't bring it up.

"Well either way, I made a thing for you."

Vox had to kind of squint to understand what you were showing him.

At first he just thought it was a crocheted mess, just a bunch of tangled yarn and threads.

Though upon closer inspection, it wasn't difficult to notice what it was.

Was that meant to be a plushie in his likeness?

Valiant effort, but was it supposed to look so...

Odd?

"What even is it?"

"Ehhh??? You can't tell? It's you!"

"That's- huh??"

You seemed to pout at his bemused expression, shifting your gaze to the plushie you made instead.

"My friend knows how to crochet so I asked her to teach me, this was the first thing I ended up making."

"Shouldn't you have gone for something easier first?"

"Well yeah, but I wanted to make a gift for you to make up for earlier's fiasco."

Vox's eyes softened, he'd be lying if he said your words weren't endearing to a degree.

And... you got him a gift-

Kind of, he couldn't actually get it but it was the thought that counts.

You wanted to make him feel better because you thought you upset him.

That- that realization made Vox feel a little funny.

When you looked back towards the TV, you were surprised to find the screen tinged a baby pink instead of blue.

What...??

"Cute, still looks shitty though."

Vox's words immediately got you to stop focusing on the color of his face and instead get grumpy.

"Hey, at least I tried!"

You'd probably bring it up eventually, if you didn't forget it along the way from the ensuing word war.

Or, well- maybe it would be wise to forget it anyway.

You've just got to make it happen again.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x you #get off my screen series

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA OSAMU x FEM READER

On a bad day, Onigiri Miya becomes your new comfort restaurant. Not only is the food good, but the man who takes your orders is always kind. You think the Miya you’ve been venting to on the phone is the same Miya who shows up at your door to deliver all of your orders.

It’s too bad you don’t know there’s two of them.

wc — 2k

tags — fluff, romcom, miscommunication, miserable corporate girl x small business owner who teaches her joy

The email doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being short. They make you read through two whole paragraphs before you get to the point of it all in the final sentence. 

Your termination is effectively immediately. 

You sit back in your chair to allow yourself a moment to take it in. It’s…not terrible, all things considered. 

You get to leave this job that you hate. They’ll pay you severance. You have enough savings to be comfortable for the next few months. 

It might even a blessing.

But it still doesn’t feel good. You worked hard to land this, and now you’ll have to start all over again. Change is always hard, especially when you haven’t asked for it. 

You look at the clock. It’s currently 8:30 in the morning. You’re giving yourself exactly twenty four hours to wallow, and then it’s back to business. 

First things first - a good meal. Food always make everything better, and you really deserve something special today. For a moment, you entertain the idea of calling your friends over to get breakfast somewhere fancy, but then you remember - 

They’re all at work. 

Where you would be, if you hadn’t just been let go. 

That does sting a little, so maybe you’re not as okay as you thought you were. Hurriedly pushing those thoughts to the side in favor of scrolling through your options, a plain blue banner catches your eye. 

Onigiri Miya, it reads. 

Japanese comfort food. Family owned. 

When you click on the link, it takes you to a page that’s as simple as it’s name. It’s just a menu and a series of pictures, but it’s what you need right now. Your head hurts. You don’t have the capacity to deal with anything more. 

You want something straightforward and easy to digest. Onigiri Miya it is, then. 

“‘Miya speakin’. What can I get ya?” 

It’s a pleasantly accented voice. When you rattle off your order, you suddenly find it a little less pleasant after he says, “Er. Ya sure?”

This is some shoddy customer service. 

“I’m placing the order, aren’t I?”

“Those two don’t normally go together,” he says. “I’d suggest number nine and number thirteen instead. Trust me.” 

You don’t trust him, actually. This is probably just an upselling tactic he tries on every customer, but you’re not in the mood to argue. You had thought when you called a family owned restaurant, you’d be speaking to some kindly old grandma who might let you cry and vent into the receiver for just a little while, not whoever this is. 

At least the delivery is quick. 

A series of sharp raps on your door alerts you to the arrival. You pull it open to a man in a baseball cap and a uniform with onigiris on both. Their merch is cute. You’d wear it unironically. 

Underneath the cap, yellow blonde hair peeks out. On his shirt, a name tag reads Miya. 

Instantly, you feel a little worse for thinking poorly of him. Your bad attitude from work is no reason to take it out on this hardworking entrepreneur who’s running a one man show by himself. 

“Here ya go,” he says, thrusting a paper bag at you. “Eat it while it’s hot!” 

And then he’s off, scampering back down the stairs instead of taking the elevator even though you’re several floors up. You suppose there’s a reason he has those thighs. 

That the food is good is an understatement. 

Your former coworker Aiko used to work in food advertising before she pivoted. She loved to talk about how fake the industry was during lunch, both in terms of people and actual product. It’s through her that you know that half of the food in commercials aren’t actually food, but styrofoam and plastic painted to look appetizing. 

Onigiri Miya, in contrast, doesn’t look perfect. Appetizing, certainly, but not like a work of art. It just looks like what it is - a ball of rice with special ingredients for flavor.

So why are you crying as you finish your first onigiri and reach for the next? 

It’s been so long since you had a home cooked meal. You’re trying not to be maudlin, but you can almost taste the love that went into everything you’re eating. Imagining Miya carefully packing each triangular ball of rice by hand with a smile has you reaching for another, then another, until eventually the entire order is gone before you know it. 

Exhausted from crying and eating, you sink into your couch with a satisfied sigh and fall asleep. 

It’s 1:30 P.M. by the time you rise again, feeling a little better. Sleep really was the cure to all evils. Now you have 20 hours left to indulge yourself as much as possible. 

You’re not in the mood to turn off your brain by binge watching a show. You want to do something. You want to use your hands to craft something from scratch. 

Learning how to make onigiri could be a start. A quick run to the grocery store and the first recipe that popped up on Google later, you have a half formed, crumbling mound of rice with pickled radish shoved inside. If you squint, it looks almost like what you got from Onigiri Miya this morning. 

Who are you kidding?

That’s an insult to Miya’s craft. He put so much care into each dish - you can hardly compare your shoddy workmanship to his. There’s only one thing to do. You have to taste the real thing again to see where you went wrong. 

“Miya. What d'ya want to order?” 

“I’d like-“

“Hold up. Didn’t ya call this morning?” 

Flustered, you nearly fumble your phone. You’re breathless as you clutch is tighter and bring it back to your ear. “Yeah,” you admit sheepishly. “Is that bad?” 

“I mean, yeah, a little,” Miya says. “I appreciate the business but ya shouldn’t be eatin’ onigiri for two meals a day. Yer going to make yerself sick.” 

“It’s a special day,” you tell him. “I got laid off.” 

In the resounding silence that follows, you have ample time to berate yourself for sharing that. What is wrong with you? Why would you say that? He’s a stranger that you’ve randomly dumped your misery onto and you’re sure he’s -

“Ouch,” he says. “‘Kay, I’ll make an exception just for today. What’s yer order?” 

Miya shows up at your door promptly. He’s ditched the cap so his yellow hair is on full display. It looks like he’s run his hands through it. It sticks up at odd angles. 

“Here ya go,” he says, almost distractedly as he hands you your bag. “Enjoy.” 

You bring the bag inside and start rummaging through it immediately, excited to try new flavors you hadn’t gotten the first time around. Out comes the four onigiri you had ordered, a cup of miso soup, and…

A little takeout container of sushi with a cat’s face drawn on it. A speech bubble next to its head reads, “You can do it, meow!” 

Laughter echoes around your apartment. To your surprise, the world feels less daunting already. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been the entire morning. Miya’s the only person you’ve spoken to the entire day, and even that was a quick and whispered thank you. Your throat almost hurts with the force of your giggles after disuse all morning, but it’s a good kind of pain. 

Onigiri Miya, family owned. You can almost feel the warmth of an embrace around you as you bite into your steaming onigiri, still a little too hot. 

All too soon, it becomes a tradition for you to order Onigiri Miya as your comfort meal. It doesn’t even have to be a bad day - you actively try to avoid associating things you like with painful feelings by using them as treats for hard days. Instead, Onigiri Miya is anything from a reward for getting to the second round of interviews or a celebration for successfully starting a new hobby. 

Onigiri has become your favorite food, and the person on the other line who takes your orders and even spares a few minutes to chat with you when it’s not too busy has quickly become someone irreplaceable in your life. 

You think you might need to redownload Tinder if you’re this attached to the man who fulfills your onigiri orders. 

Even though you know it’s strange, you can’t bring yourself to sever your connection. Miya is warm and kind, and you’ve quickly come to think of him as a friend. It’s a culmination of lots of little moments piling up over time. 

When you had forced yourself to go on your first date after a while, determined to get back out there, it had crashed and burned catastrophically. Onigiri Miya had been there to pick you back up. Miya had even recognized the sniffles in your voice that you were fighting and drawn you another little cat. 

The next time you had ordered, before you could even tell him what onigiri you wanted, Miya had asked you what happened last week. Maybe that’s just how family owned businesses are. They actually care about their customers. Enough so to play therapist to the girl that orders from you every week. 

Then there was the time you had gotten your first call back for a job application, and you had called Miya to celebrate. 

Well, not Miya. You didn’t have his personal number, but you had called Onigiri Miya, which is more or less the same thing at the moment. This time, he had been the one to be interrupted as you blurred out your good news. 

You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “What’d I tell ya? I knew ya could do it.” 

There’s no container of sushi with a hand drawn cat this time, but there is a little note written on a napkin. It’s accompanied by an origami star. 

You don’t cry, exactly, but your eyes water up as you read the note. He’s proud of you. The star is to wish you luck on your continued journey. The knowledge that he’s proud - his own words - fuels you as you keep applying and interviewing, never letting rejection stop you. 

He’s just the guy that takes your onigiri order, but at some point, he’s become someone special to you. 

He cares. He spends an extra two minutes on the phone with you to ask about your day even when you can hear the sounds of a busy environment in the background. He remembers your accomplishments and failures. Whether you fall or rise, he’s there with you every step of the way. 

Sometimes, you get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when he laughs at you, calling you silly for whatever mistake you’re relying to him. You miss his voice when you don’t have an occasion to call, and when something happens, your first thought is always to tell him about it. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because the next time he comes to deliver your order, he tells you, “We’ve known each other long enough, ya order every week. I don’t like being called Miya. My name’s Atsumu.” 

Or maybe not, because he never treats you in person the way he does on the phone. There’s no spark of connection, no bright laughter, no willingness to linger, to stay, to listen. 

Perhaps he’s just shy. In that case, you’re willing to take what he’s offered you and make the first move.

The next time you order, you end the call with, “Thanks, Atsumu. I’ll talk to-“ 

There’s an abrupt interruption from the other end immediately. 

“What’d ya call me?” His voice sounds funny. 

“…Atsumu?”

Even when you’re confused, the sound of his belly deep laughter makes you feel all shivery from your toes to your head. It makes your joints feel weak, like they can’t support you, and you ease into the dining chair as you wait patiently for whatever laughing fit that’s gripped him to pass. 

“Atsumu,” he repeats, with another snort of laughter. “Atsumu, really?”

“What?”

“Ya know Onigiri Miya’s a five minute walk from yer place, right?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Come here,” he says, and hangs up. 

When you enter Onigiri Miya, you get instant whiplash. There’s two of them! 

You’re just wondering if you should get your eyes checked when you start seeing the subtle differences. They have different hair colors, and their eyes are just the subtlest shades apart. 

The most discerning difference is the way the one with grey hair is looking at you. 

“There’s the girl of the hour,” Atsumu says. “I’ll leave ya to it.” 

When Atsumu leaves, Miya gestures for you to sit at the bar in front of him. He’s still packing onigiri. 

“I’m a little hurt, ya know. Can’t believe ya mistook me for my twin.” 

“It was an accident!” You protest. “How was I supposed to know?” 

“I’m teasin’ ya,” he says, laughing. “Yer so easy to rile up. Remember this, okay? I’m Osamu. The nicer brother.” 

“I heard that,” Atsumu yells from the back. 

“Atsumu’s just the delivery guy,” he says. There’s a twinkle in his eye. You don’t think it’s that funny, but you like seeing him mirthful. “I’d rather make the food than deal with the people, so he does it.”

“Am I part of the people?” 

He gives you a look. 

“Stop fishing for compliments,” he says, and your cheeks grow warm with delight. “Ya know ya aren’t.” 

“Here,” he says, sliding you a napkin with a series of numbers and a hand drawn picture of a cat. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.” 

By the cat’s head, the speech bubble reads, “Miya Osamu’s personal number.” The cat is winking at you. 

“Is this…?” 

He smiles at you. “Stop clogging up the line cause ya miss me-“

“I don’t-“

He ignores you. “I got a business to run, ya know? Just call me next time.”

Then, he leans over the bar. He’s too close. Your cheeks feel warm under his attention as he whispers to you, “I’ll make something just for ya, compliments of the chef.” 

Trying to recover, you swallow to bring moisture to your dry mouth. You’re trying to be playful when you say, “It’s a date, then?”

He looks at you with a hint of a smile. “It is.” 

#sera writes #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya osamu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff

[itmeblog]

It's Black History Month

(Over here in the US of A) So here are some podcasts to check out.

Absolutely no Adventures - a fantasy (un)adventure story that follows Sig, the owner of Signature Eats bakery, as he aggressively avoids becoming embroiled in any daring quests or chosen one shenanigans even though the universe really seems to want him to do just that. This is a story about cutting Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey off at the knees to chill with friends and staying far, far away from the slightest whiff of adventure. And also baking. This is also a story about baking.

Afflicted - Lovecraft Country meets True Blood in this new series from award-winning producers Tonia Ransom and Jen Zink. In season one, a small East Texas town suffers supernatural disasters caused by a demonic book bound in human flesh…and only hoodoo can save the town from its affliction.

Apollyon - In the early 22nd century, the Apollyon virus wiped out 75% of the world’s population, and now most of the world is governed by the International Conglomerate of Research Scientists. Dr. Theo Ramsey is an ICRS research scientist who may have just discovered an effective vaccine for Apollyon, but the stakes to get the vaccine to the public are higher than she ever imagined.

Between Heartbeats - Tan immersive Urban Fantasy about the hurt, the powerful, and their growth within a broken world. We follow Sundiata, a guilt-ridden time manipulator with a knack for unemployment, and Nadia, a moralistic telepath determined not to lose control, as they balance frayed mental health against an unsympathetic police state. But when a malevolent presence rears is head, their neuroses become the least of their problems. Can our heroes make the most of their abilities before the option is taken from them?

Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back - Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via

Harlem Queen - a Black historical fiction audio drama based on the life and times of Black, woman, "gangster" Madame Stephanie St. Clair during the Harlem Renaissance.

His Royal Fakin' Highness - What if Ophelia helped Hamlet get his throne back? This modern day, romantic comedy re-imagining of Shakespeare's Hamlet asks just that. As they stage an engagement in the wake of the king's death, these childhood frenemies must decide between duty and love.

InCo (This one's mine :D) - A Sci-Fi story about a disgruntled information seller, a mysterious space boy, and an android doing her best.

Janus Descending - a limited series, science fiction/horror audio drama podcast, follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place.

Lady Lucy - Lady Lucy is an audio drama inspired by Shakespeare's "Dark Lady" Sonnets, 127-154. Between running her brothel, fighting the Church, murdering her friends' abusive husbands, and pretending to be a poet, the last thing Lucy needed back in 1586 was a surprise visit from her former flame... Will Shakespeare.

Liars and Leeches - Tonya Wright felt it all after the tragic murders of her sister and brother-in-law in a random act of gun violence. Struggling to travel outside of her home, she now lives constantly on edge about perceived threats that seem to surround her.

Nightlight - Multi-award winning horror podcast featuring creepy stories with full audio production written by Black writers and performed by Black actors. So scary it’ll make you want to leave your night light on.

Null /Void - a science fiction audio drama about a young woman, Piper Lee, whose life is saved by a mysterious voice named Adelaide. Piper soon uncovers a malicious plot by a monopoly of a tech company and must work with her friends and an unusual ally to help foil their deadly plot.

Out of Ashes - (currently remastering season 1) Follow a group of survivors as they navigate the ruins of modern civilization and battle against demons, ghosts, monsters and the looming threat of extinction from an ancient power.

Small Victories - A recently recovered drug addict tries to start her new lease on life, too bad life has it out for her.  This dramatic comedy follows Marisol through the ups and downs of her life.

The Courtship of Mona Mae - In the 1870s, pioneers Mona Mae Christophe and Zekial Montgomery search the American West for Mona Mae's mother, Clara. Mona must recall a past, long forgotten in order to survive, so that she can find her mother, love and create a way of life for herself.

Vega a Sci-Fi Adventure Podcast - In a fantasy futuristic world, Vega Rex is employed by her government to kill off the world's worst criminals. She's never met a criminal she couldn't catch…until now. Join Vega as she journeys through a world of bumbling apprentices, powerful technogods, and her biggest challenge yet. Hosted by Ivuoma Hall.

Witchever Path - is an anthology series where your decisions effect the story. Our stories are based in America’s NorthEast, featuring characters finding themselves in the thick of the unknown while tackling issues like queer identity, gender, race, and spirituality. Stories often focus on the communities not typically seen in stories taking place in New England, and giving voice to the perspectives of those communities while uniting under some universal themes. And the supernatural happens. A lot.

(All descriptions were taken from websites)

If you want to find more and there are way more there's a directory :D

[greenfiredragonfly]

reminding myself that feeling sad is not allowed. i need to do better.

#sometimes i wish i got angry instead of sad #at least anger is useful: you can channel it into being productive #i just wish i was dead #...even though i'm not allowed to wish that. #sorry #at least i can put on a good show of having regular person emotional reactions #...i think #hhhhhhh i'm trying to keep my head above water here #it's not really working #depression is like being pulled down the drain in the bathtub sometimes #and i'm not that strong a swimmer #rip #i'm doing my best #i'm eating and sleeping and getting exercise and socializing #but #i can't convince myself that i matter #(still #i will keep on existing #no worries #i have no other option #like i said #acting and being sad is against the rules) #personal #kind of a vent #i guess??? #i'm tired #sorry again #i'm going to try and distract myself with my obligations #we'll see how that goes

[shootingmorningstar]

Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Especially since he’d take a look at the white button up, red trousers with suspenders, and blue bow tie with yellow polka-dots and see it as a fashion nightmare XD. And don’t get him started on the bunny ears and tail. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Low cut red dress with a slit and all. Just imagine pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.

I've been meaning to get to this request ever since I saw it because it is just so good. I'm definitely biased for anything Lucifer related but god this is just so cute. Anon, your brain is outstanding. I love pouty Lucifer. If you still have that tiktok on hand or ever come across it again, do you think you could send it my way .ᐣ

You didn't include what kind of request you wanted though, and my default is HCs -- but I couldn't help but throw in a little drabble based on them, too. Or, at least I intended it to be a drabble .ᐣ It got away from me, haha.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Lucifer and Female Reader Dressing

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Up As Roger and Jessica Rabbit ~

Lucifer is initially thrilled when you bring up wanting to attend a famous yearly costume party in Pride with him. A chance to show you off sounds amazing, and he's great with costumes. Just the thought of you two matching is enough to get him excited.

You seemed just as excited as he was -- in fact, he was even more excited when you told him you'd already had something in mind .ᐟ He's pestering you to tell him just what the costumes were as soon as the plan leaves your lips, but much to his displeasure, you refuse, saying you want to keep it a surprise.

You'd even managed to resist the very strongest puppy-dog eyes and pout. Impressive. He usually succeeds in getting his way with that one -- who could ever say no to that face .ᐣ Having exhausted his options, he sighs his defeat.

Well, nearly exhausted his options. He was entirely too ready to pretend that you'd won and snoop through your closet the second you walked away. Apparently his quick glance at said closet had given him away though, and with a quick deadpan stare alongside a scary sounding ❛ don't you dare. ❜ has his feet rooted to the floor.

Did his poker face really suck so bad .ᐣ He's definitely practicing it in the mirror later.

Ultimately, though, he trusts you completely and your choice in matching outfits is no exception, so he allows it to drop for now. There's still a few more days until the party, but that time could be spent much more productively by your side rather than whining about clothing.

That is, until the day of the party comes around and you bring out his outfit. You'd never seen Lucifer's jaw drop quite like that before and it takes iron will to stop yourself from giggling at his present state.

He doesn't understand the reference. Lucifer regrets his past decision to give humanity free will. It's obvious, even if he never seems to say it outright. He had given out such a precious gift and so much of humanity chose to abuse it, to be nothing but cruel. Looking at sinners and by extension humanity is just a terrible reminder of what he'd done, so he prefers to avoid it whenever possible. This quite often includes the media of the living realm -- he's never even heard about the movie, forget seeing it.

So without the full context, all he knows is that you've just handed him an absolutely atrocious outfit -- and to make it worse, you expect him to go out in it .ᐣ Seriously, he whinges, red overalls with a blue bow .ᐣ Rabbit ears .ᐣ And to make it worse, you won't even show him your outfit until he gets dressed .ᐟ He can't believe you're laughing.

He sounds completely and totally ridiculous, in your defense. Seriously, has he seen his regular outfit .ᐣ He looks absolutely stunning, sure -- but he also looks like he walked right out of a circus.

It says a lot, though, that despite the complete and total pity party he's currently throwing himself, he's beginning to shuffle into the costume anyway. He's grumbling the whole way, but the fact that he just doesn't have it in him to say no to you warms your heart.

You had been so, so eager about this party, and the way your eyes had shined like stars when you told him had long since burned itself into his heart.

wc ; 1.2k

His seemingly endless complaints had tapered off ever so slightly when you shimmied his grasp off of the ruby red suspenders sagging unbuttoned over his chest. By the time you take the fabric into your own hands his protests faded to little more than a mumble under his breath, and with the very first snap of a button in place under your gentle touch he'd quieted completely. Where a look of exasperation had reflected off his face seconds prior, in its place now is that of silent awe, his gaze trained on your every action. The gesture of intimacy is enough to leave Lucifer somewhat choked up, his heart still not used to receiving such acts of adoration and kindness. You tie the cornflower blue fabric adorned with tiny yellow spots into a bow to accentuate the costume and cover his hands briefly with your own as you slip the gloves onto his fingers.

Not twenty minutes had passed, and he finds his attitude regarding the ensemble shifting with every second you take to assist him into it. Each and every part of it looks ridiculous at best, but the thought of you picking it out solely for him has him warming up to the idea.

Declaring your work complete, you raise your grasp ever so slightly, palms holding each of his cheeks close, your thumbs rubbing soft little circles below his eyes. Your affections are sufficient only when finished with a kiss placed on his forehead. ❛ I'm going to go get dressed, okay .ᐣ No peeking. I promise I'll be right back. ❜

The way his wrists on instinct dart out to catch yours to bring you close to him again as you pull back nearly got you. He's extended his lips in a pout once more. You hate to leave him quite so sad looking but you know he'll appreciate what you have planned enough for it to be worth it.

Bathroom door shutting closed behind you, there's the smallest bit of lingering regret that he can't help you to get dressed like you had for him. The outfit itself takes you barely a few moments to slip into -- it's the makeup that requires precision, time and effort. His pacing around the bedroom is audible, impatient steps sounding into stomps, the sounds causing you to choke on a laugh. You need a steady hand for your eyeshadow and that's hard to maintain during an act quite as cute as this.

Nonetheless, your look is finished within half an hour and therefore Lucifer is put out of his misery. It's not a second after the door clicks open that his attention is caught, snapped to the light peaking out of the doorway. Stepping into the small hallway, your eyes are met with his own -- and the way his pupils widen as soon as he gets a glance of your dress makes both your efforts and his complaining worthwhile. His gaze takes you in from top to bottom, each detail enchanting him further. The dress so perfectly hugging your curves is crimson to match him and absolutely breathtaking -- and are you walking towards him .ᐣ Your strut does well to accentuate the slit stitched into the leg, your thigh tantalizing in its display.

Finally reclaiming your place beside him, one of your fingers reaches out, finding purchase under his chin -- and when you tilt his head up you swear you saw his eyes flash red. ❛ Hello, my darling husband, ❜ you coo, sending his already overloaded brain into a frenzy. Husband . . .ᐣ You wanted . . .ᐣ With him, really . . .ᐣ And although he's beginning to put the pieces together and clue in that such a term of endearment was part of your match, you seemed so happy to say it. He snaps his focus back onto just how stunning you look tonight, but the idea has firmly implanted itself into the depths of his mind.

Back into the present time, his hands have begun to roam -- he wants to commit every detail of you to memory, and that includes the feeling of your dresses fabric under his fingertips. His grasp is met with your own, for it's not long before you're pulling the straps of his suspenders, tugging him forward into a kiss. By the time he's recovered from his surprise enough to reciprocate, though, you're already beginning to pull away. He chases your lips with a whine but you've already moved on, pressing a kiss first to his cheek and then to his forehead. It's only when you offer him a small compact mirror does he understand -- each of your kisses has left behind a little bit of the lipstick you oh so painstakingly applied. Your marks on his face have left him entranced, desperately craving more.

A gasp rips itself from those same cherry red lips in surprise -- you weren't expecting him to summon forth his tail, much less wrap it around your midsection and use it to bring you closer. ❛ Kiss me again, ❜ He pleads, desperate and breathy. ❛ Anything for my honey bunny, ❜ you chime, matching the mark on his left cheek with one on the right. ❛ You just look so cute, ❜ between each kiss is another offering of praise and compliments, the blush left in your wake matching excellently. ❛ Who's my handsome bunny .ᐣ ❜

Your multitude of kisses has left Lucifer stunned and looking nothing short of angelic -- even more so than usual. You're fully intending on giving him several more, leaning in to do just that when the wall mounted clock besides you chimes a new hours arrival, alerting you to the time. ❛ Oh, dear. I'm very sorry, Mr. Rabbit, but I'm afraid we simply must be going. We don't want to be late, do we .ᐣ ❜

Fixing your lipstick takes all of a few seconds, leaving you free to grab a makeup wipe off the pouch resting atop your vanity and wipe all of the stains you'd adorned his face with away. A snap of his wrist catches yours just inches from his face, however, halting your plans in their tracks. Confused, you look to him for an explanation, a soft ❛ leave them. please .ᐣ ❜ being all he offers you. ❛ You're going to go to the party like this, love .ᐣ ❜ to which he nods sagely. He can't bear to part with them -- not when the lipstick marks are yours, not when they declare proudly that he is yours.

❛ If you say so, honey. ❜ You can't deny that the prospect leaves your heart fluttering. A grand, golden portal appears with a simple snap of his fingers and he takes your arm, now linked with his own in an attempt to usher you forward. He can't wait to show you off, to watch as other demons eyes glow green as they stare his way. You stay still, though, prompting him to look back at you with an air of confusion. It's then that you lean close, whispering ❛ be a good bunny and there will be more where that came from. too bad we'll have to wait until we come home, hmm .ᐣ ❜

Suddenly Lucifer can't wait for this party to be over.

I still can't believe I'd originally intended this to be 100 words and it ended up over a thousand. I can't help it, I'm so weak for anything Lucifer related. I'm half tempted to write an absolutely filthy post party part 2. If there's enough demand for it .ᐣ I just might.

As always, let me know what you think .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated ~

#hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #admin kitty #i want to fuck this old man so bad #sorry #no im not #not at all #girl help this prompt is actually rotting my brain #i will forever and always write lucifer as a loverboy. #always. #cause he is #he's so good old fashioned lover boy coded #ok im done now #lover boy lucifer morningstar #hes such a wifeguy #it kills me

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #7

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: A moment of weakness, or perhaps of caring? Warnings: SMUT kids scram!.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis

Sorry for the updating problems, now it's finished :3

"Then...make me your reason" your laughter was unexpected, but then again, he wasn’t expecting for you to say yes right away.

"Why? And don't sell me the cow that in less than three months you fell for me, 'cause it's not possible, besides you're married" the brightness that surrounded him, upset your stomach, it was a reminder.

Her. His story, the fall, his and her promises of never stopping loving each other. What could happen between them to break such a love story? What if she never came back?

Could you live long enough to make him happy? Will you suffice?

"Well, I grew fond of our talks, it will be really sad if I lost my cuddle buddy" He wasn't sure what he was saying, just the fact that not seeing you was not an option, "And, I've noticed you take good care of Charlie" it hurt him, a lot, but seeing his own daughter being taken care of in any way possible, but not by him, was like a direct stab to his heart.

Your weirded out face made him explain:

"You make sure she eats, in the mornings it's you who gives her vitamins, you remind her of her appointments, bandage her when she gets hurt, I've even heard her rant to you and take your advice at heart. You've taken care of my daughter as if she was yours" Lucifer’s heart ached with every word.

A lightning bolt hit your entire body, figuratively. Eight years of taking care of her, it was as natural as breathing. Did you perhaps reflect the stolen need for motherhood in her? If so, her real mother is going to annihilate you.

"What if that was your reason?" he had his hope on the line, "I'm not her mother, the real deal will kill me if she hears me, but though she's being unbelievably irresponsible, I cannot take this from her” you took notice on his hands again, he had them on each side of your head it was hard not to notice.

Subtle scratches, horizontal, messy and weirdly even, the depression medication. Oh you prayed she never get back, he would never forgive you if her head was on the other end of your axe, but you won’t have him getting hurt by her again, and if it could be at the expense of your life, even better.  

"I think, deep down, she knows that. I'm not excluded in that" he lowered himself again, at least you wouldn’t look him in the eyes when you spoke, it hurt seeing his ‘at the verge of tears’ look.

"You know, I think if you tell your daughter of your depression, she will stop resenting your absence" he pulled himself up again, his red cheeks went so down you thought they would reach the underside of his chin "She does what?" anguish, pure at that.

"What did you think she rants about? Partially you, mainly why her hotel isn't working” he sighed, listening to you made him understand why Charlie stook around you, which was the other way around mostly, but still. He took your hand from his shoulder, kissed your knuckles with his eyes closed, then muttered a very heartfelt "Thank you for taking care of her” before leaning against your palm.  

"With time it became my pleasure, at first I wanted to kill her" you chuckled, he came down on your neck, inhaling the remanent smell on his shampoo. What an intimate thing, Lilith wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some other thing than her rose smelling antique perfume and products.

“Good thing you didn't” he muttered, “And face you? I ain't stupid" you only realized what you said when he started laughing at you, a soundly one with one or two occasional snorts, "Shut up" you rolled on your side with him still on you, which was pretty easy.

"Make us your reason, stay" if you were sober you would’ve coward in your old morals for the intimate position, crotch to crotch, but it was so close and warm.

“I'm just leaving that option on the table, if you still want to die, we'll miss you dearly, heck, I think even that son of bitch of Alastor will” you shook your head softly, attempting not to laugh, the alcohol doing all the funny work in your brain.

“You enjoy being in between my tits, huh?” his snake smile was too much when you dropped that, “I've been here through all this conversation, didn't heard you complaining” his hand went up and down your back.

“You have her in your mind when we do this” your happiness went away, your limbs went limp, so did your mind for a moment.

“No, not so much” his smile dropped, gosh you wished you could sew it up, “I wasn't asking, I just want to know if you're aware of who I’m not”.

“I am” he assured.

“Do I disappoint you, when you open your eyes and realize she's still not here?” he was, his hesitation told you everything.

"Thing is, I can't make you or Charlie my reason, I will not be a replacement, I'm sure you understand"

"And what if Alastor asked you that? Will you?".

"No, he’s two different people, one with me and another in public, and he despises physical touch and PDA on a daily basis, and I need that" you saw his shadow slip from under the door, drawing a finger along his neck and an ok hand gesture.

“But he did me a solid tonight, a huge one, if he asked me for a kiss tomorrow I would give him some sugar” the shadow winked then slipped under again.

“And if I did? Would you?” you knew what he was asking, but instead you just played something random in your head in hopes for him to let you sleep a bit, “Give you a kiss? My, my, your majesty, how forward”.

“You're a prude” he moved away from your neck, “I'm simply old fashioned”.

His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving towards your neck, not squeezing or pressing, just holding it. Your tail wrapped around your leg, at the same time you closed your eyes as her face approached, slowly. A kiss, calm, soft, near the corner of your lips.

"Is that okay?" you weren’t listening, you wanted to relish on the loveliness of his gesture, it made you all bubbly and lovely. You hummed, there was nothing else you could utter, not when his breath went back to your neck.  

A mental ‘fuck it’ later, had you yanking his head away from your neck and pressing your lips on his, "Remind me of this when I'm sober" as soon as you were done you pulled him back against you, "Will do" a loved sick king he was, reminded him when he just had met Lilith.

"And Y/n…if you gave me a chance and some time, you wouldn't be a replacement” after a second of thought and a heavy sigh, “Can I keep that option and sleep on it for a while?" he smiled then nuzzled into your warmth, as did you, "Sure thing, like I said, the option is there".

The way Lucifer saw it, an abstract void in which he was trapped, willingly so.

How can he put seven years of pain behind him? It is as if he is sitting in the dark, while the world moves around him, he doesn’t know if he falls or rises, he only feels the movement and how it leaves him behind in a certain way. He sees you, far away in the shadows, your body wrapped in them, covering everything except your face, to him it looks like you are drowning, in the center of your chest a white, empty hole.

Your tired eyes without more tears to shed, even without strength they managed to stay away from the shadows, how? He alone clinging to hope and denial kept the cold of loneliness and despair at bay.

Contrary from him, you maintained yourself above the darkness, standing, strong despite being tired out of your mind. He longed to know what drove you to keep walking despite everything. Reach you in some way, save you from the hands of pain that tried to drag you into oblivion.

What were you reaching for? Your arm was out stretched, towards the sky, was it heaven? Someone to help you? He wanted to, he wanted to move, why he couldn’t?

“Fuck, Y/n! Wait for me, please, I’ll find a way, I promise!” he yelled into the void, not getting your attention despite how many times he did, or how loud he was.

Specks of lights made you fade from view, “No, please, not you too, I can be better!” His knees shook, so he used his claws against the ground to try to move towards you, tearing the skin under his nails from the strength he put into it.

“Please, don’t leave!” he yelled one more time. And then, he felt how his agitated breathing dried his throat, the light from his room almost blinded his eyes when he opened them. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was a dream.

It was still pretty early, the sky was still dark, the only light that illuminated the room was the one from the bathroom.

You were kneeling near the toilet, head down, he guessed the alcohol caught up on you and moved away from him to vomit. Silently he picked up your hair from your face, gently holding all the soft strands in his hand, as the other caressed your back softly.  

Still, not a single word being uttered, he materialized you a toothbrush, then he waited for you to come back to bed, his arms open. This time he positioned himself behind your back, one arm under your neck and the other across your waist, avoiding pressing too hard.

You wondered, what made him treat you so sweetly? You touched with your index softly along the scratches on his wrist, “How can someone ethereal like you, be troubled by things so earth bound?” you realized you said it out loud when the hand that was on your waist moved to intertwine it with yours.  

“I’m far from ethereal” his hot breath was on your ear, the twitching made him smile. “You were an angel, how can someone like you feel so much pain?” It was difficult for him to analyze your question, were you perhaps questioning that angels did not feel emotions? “How? I feel, you like you” you shook your head, “That’s not what I mean” collecting your thoughts seemed impossible, it was a mental mess.

“You wonder why I feel pain?” you hummed in response, “I feel like at the beginning, helpless, useless, I took away her chance to go to heaven, believing I could make her happy, but it wasn’t enough” he then added “I wasn’t enough” hurt was an understatement, there was a whole set of words yo describe how his voice sounded, but his sadness overall brought a few tears to fall off your eyes.

“I may have felt the same way… still do” he hugged you even tighter, “We are two broken souls, a bunch of messy pieces” you leaned your face to the marks on his wrist, placing a subtle kiss as you joked “Scrap books”, making him smile and let out a small laugh, “You’re so cute”.

🍎📻

"Alastor, is me, open up" you leaned against the door frame, your headache killing your head and your stomach on the verge of jumping off your body. That and the tiredness for waking up in the middle of the night made your voice a bit raspy and slurred.

"Good morning mon chérie, how was your night?" either he was being a sunshine to piss you off, or he was in a sincere good mood…or both.

“I am never drinking again” he laughed a little, watching you push the silver ‘room service’ cart inside his room, setting it on a near corner.

“I assumed as much” he reached his bookshelf and pulled a couple pills out of a few boxes, “You're amazing” he got all kind of tingles when you took the pills off his hand, he relished on how unbelievably soft your skin was.

"I must say that about you, quite the entertainment your ex resulted to be" With his cup of tea he sat in a single red sofa chair, with his free hand he pat the black one on his side. You flopped on the seat with your cup of coffee.

“Is he dead?” he couldn’t tell by your already sour tone if you were being sarcastic or you really cared, "Barely alive, but healing, I will tore him apart again tonight" the little smile he got from you was delightful.

"Darling, I have some information for you" if the ass of your ex told him anything, you didn’t needed to know, curiosity burned your insides though. “What will it cost me?” he hummed pensative, “A kiss” that was odd coming from him, but then again you remembered telling him, or his shadow, that.

“The intel first, to see if it's worth it” you tried to laugh your urge to kill someone, “I know the name of the man your daughter got sold to, he's down here" he took a sip of his tea, "He's in the mafia district, I know where his base of operations is".

"I… want to see him first, hear from him what he did with my daughter, even if it hurts" he hummed in understanding, reaching your hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze.

"Again, thank you Alastor, you...have no idea how much I appreciate this" he smiled, the shadows that conformed the chair you sat on elevated you and with a swift movement you fell gently on Alastor’s lap. "Show me” ‘fucking narcissist’ you thought, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.

When your lips merged with his, time didn’t mattered, it in fact went a lot slower. He embraced your waist with one arm, bringing you closer if that was possible, his other one secured your back and neck in place, grasping a fistful of your hair once or twice.

He sensed his mental sanity left his body when he felt your hand on the back of his head, caressing ever so lightly, going down to the rim of his shirt, respecting the limit he wanted to eliminate.

He felt a little brave, comfortable with the interaction, the white shirt carefully tucked into your pants was lifted, allowing Alastor’s hand to roam around your back, feeling the corset laces, playing with them.

"Don't do that if you're not going to do something about it" you warned, your forehead in touch with his. Alastor’s smile softened, “I’m not partial to physical touch” he started, “You’ve made that clear” you giggled, pecking his cheek, earning a content sigh from him.

“Somehow you… how to put it? Make me desire it, to have you nearer than I accustom” you blinked a few times, your hand went back to his cheek, softly making your way to his hair, “I don’t understand why, nor this feeling, would you help me dearest?” He had closed his eyes when your hand touched him again, but at the end of his question he opened them.

Having known well the desire faces of countless men, you knew that what Alastor was begging for was not any sexual impulse, but closeness, warmth, softness. The pleasure that only a person who burns for another can deliver.

You weren't sure if you could provide him with such a feeling, however the guilt of having denied him your sympathy for fear of becoming too attached dissipated for a second.

His face got close once again, his eyes asking for permission, without wasting any more time you let him introduce his tongue into your mouth, a passion that ignited a flame of desire that ran through your entire body.

He pulled apart, “May I?” He referred to the bulletproof corset you were wearing. After nodding your head, he deftly undid the slats that held your torso together, as well as unbuttoned your shirt and removed the leather straps over your shoulders.

He seemed to pay no attention to the snake tattoo clutching your arm, making its way to in between your breast.

Exposed from the waist up, but that wasn't going to be uneven. You asked the same thing, your hands playing with the hem of his shirt, occasionally touching his Adam's apple to rile him up.

You knew he was unsure, but he nodded nonetheless. He kissed you again as he felt you letting his coat fall from his shoulders, as well as the leather cross that adorned his chest, and then one button at a time his shirt opened, until you had a clear view once again of the scars. under his fine fur, the already healed battle wound and his thin but strong torso.

His hands then touched a series of indentations on your skin, long and repetitive, almost all of the same length, spreading across your skin to a little below your shoulders. When he wanted to stop kissing you to take a look, you held his face against the back of the chair, "Don't make me feel like damaged goods, don't pay attention to what you're touching, okay?" You didn't want to see him feel sorry for you, for once you wanted to enjoy the attention without thinking about your past.

He obeyed your wishes. Standing up from the chair, with you up with him, in a flash of green, he laid you down on a dark red fabric, he had materialized a bed on his room.

His hands caressed from your shoulders to your breasts, perhaps admiring the shape or the softness, but more than anything, what made Alastor make sighs of pleasure was leaving small kisses and bites from your neck to the space between your breast.

The small electric sensations made you cling to his shoulders, fighting any urge to accidentally scratch him. Purposedly, returning to your face level, he pressed his groin against your core, a yelp escaped your throat, a sound that to his ears was heavenly.

“Take the cover off” He knew you used a dental cover over your fangs, mostly to avoid cutting your tongue or lips, “You want me to bite you?” he chuckled, his face adorned with a lustful glint, “I want you to devour me, chérie” with a snap of his fingers, he made it go away, leaving it on a tiny box on the shelf on top of the fireplace.

He left his collarbone exposed and free for you, raising his body a little higher, taking the opportunity to lick the sensitive edge of your ear. His breath caught as your teeth embedded in the curve where his shoulder and neck meet. When he was able to breathe again he exhaled shakily, causing your cervix to tingle.

Ecstasy, that was the word that came to Alastor's mind after trying to rationalize. His knees trembled, but he felt strong enough to lift your body and move you from the edge of the bed, towards the center, your head resting on one of the pillows.

Something that he could not do in life, but because it never occurred to him that he would need it, try the pleasures of skin. He moved down your body, hands on your belt, he again asked for your permission and with a smile you nodded. His constant questioning was refreshing, no one was interested in asking you if you wanted to be defiled, however, he was different.

Like the show man he is, he traveled down to your feet, pulling one up his shoulder, as he unzip your boots and felt all undergarments discarded on the edge of the bed. Never breaking eye contact as he did.

He also undid his pants, allowing you to see the red streak of hair that went down his bellybutton to the groomed part over his groin. He was big, the color of his skin matching the cream hue on his face, only lighter.

“I’ve never done this before” he confessed, ears to his sides, “You want me to take the lead?” you asked, not mocking but trying assure him it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, “Tell me how can I pleasure you” your own ears went down embarrassed, “You don’t have to go down on me, but the path has to be opened, you can do it with your fingers”.

He hummed, burring his face in your neck as his hand went down your stomach, passing over your clit to go in between your folds, finding your wet entrance. You gasped, he rid of his claws as he introduced one finger.

Your hands flew to his back, alarming him a little, “It’s okay, it just…been a while, I kind of forgot the feeling” your face was flushed, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. He continued a soft pumping motion, nipping on your neck as he did. Relishing on the gasps and moans that left your throat. He continued that way until he was able to add three fingers, and by the then your insides squeezed him tightly, then your back arched as you emitted a loud high gasp.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore, it felt so good, I’m sorry” he kissed your tears away, “I’m actually quite flattered I was able to pleasure you to the point of finishing just with my fingers” he made you laugh, “Al, please, I need you inside” your whole body was shaking as he touched you.

“With pleasure, ma belle vie” He positioned the tip on the edge, sending shivers up his spine. Little by little he pushed himself inside, all the way to the rim.

He waited for some kind of confirmation despite his urge to move, although he found your hips grinding on his was enough of a clue to continue.

His pace started off slow and gentle, when you pulled his face back for a kiss, something inside of him snaped. “Y/n” He brought your knees higher on his sides, making you press against his skin.

His eyes went black, his antlers and body increased in size, and so did his dick as he was still inside you. Not enough to rip you apart, but considerably bigger than at the beginning.

Alastor's mind suddenly switched off, wandering in darkness for a few seconds, “Alastor! Ah!” before your loud whine brought him to clarity again.

He looked down on you, "Are you alright?" On the inside he was worried out of his mind, but he tried to seem - in his own words- cool, as he asked.

Tears ran down your eyes, your skin was sweaty and flushed, you were panting and moaning as you tried to make up an answer. He felt your legs trembling against his skin. “Something like that” you said out of breath, a week smile on your face.

"Please don't stop now, I'm very close" he wanted to please you, but when he looked down at in between your legs, as he decreased in size, his dick was now soft and leaking.

"I think it won't be possible dearest" you shook your head with a soft smile, "Don't you worry, come here" he didn't noticed how much of his strength his orgasm took away, until he relaxed his body nuzzling into yours.

“Are you sure it’s enough?” since you had already came twice, you felt that you didn’t need to be greedy, after all, it was his first time. “I’m sure” to your eyes he truly seemed happy.

It warmed your heart when he hid his face on the crook of your neck, looping his arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours. "I suppose after this you won’t be allowing me to touch you for a week” he sighed, “Most likely” you felt comfortable, happy, his was another type of warmth, “Y/n” he spoke, kissing the red marks he left on your skin.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I really am” spotting his ear, you seized the opportunity to nip at it, gently but with a little force that caused him to dig his nails on your hips, and let out a whine.

“What was that for?” he pushed himself off to hover on top of you, not necessarily angry but bothered and hot, “To piss you off” he groaned at your amused expression, not having any fun with it despite his permanent smile, “You’re more than forgiven, will you accompany me to pay the mobster a visit?” he sighed, lowering himself to kiss your lips before whispering against them, “It will be my pleasure, darling”.

You two agreed to stay a little bit more time in bed before attempting to shower, despite his wish to take a bath with you, he felt too overstimulated to allow any more touch, which you respected.  

Little did you know, that the king found himself making a mess inside his pants, as he had watched the whole thing from the rim of the door. With the aid of his wings he scurried back to his room, his hand going up and down his dick in an attempt to soothe the aching.

“Y/n” he repeated, panting. In his mind he saw himself taking hold of your hips, your hair, hands, breast. Holding your whole being against him. He thought he knew angelic chorus sounds, until your moans proved him wrong.

His breath hitched cumming a second time into his hand, “Fucking bell hop, fucking bastard” he hit the back of his head against the wall he was leaning in.

The painting of his wife on the wall made him feel guilty about what he had done. Masturbate thinking about someone else? he had never thought about it when she was away. He didn't even have the strength to do it anyway.

At the end of a mental torture, he concluded that the kiss you gave him last night was not enough, he was going to make sure he didn’t lost you to Alastor, he just had to figure how to convince you to want to live.

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

Stay tuned ;3.

Part 8

#alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #cursed cat alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #alastor x lucifer #alastor fanart #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #radioapple #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor fluff

[matcha-dango]

Tools of Pleasure

Diluc x F!Reader ; Childe x F!Reader ; Scaramouche x F!Reader [NSFW]

CW : smut / BDSM / sextoys and intimate products / sexual misuse of non sexual devices / sadistic and/or dominant character x submissive reader

Word Count : 826

Diluc

Our Mondstadt hero, although a quiet man, can be sweet and loving one night but rough and unforgiving the next evening. His preferred toys would reflect that duality, which heavily depends on his mood.  

Kissable Massage Oil : When Diluc wants to convey his love in a gentle and tender manner, he would give you a massage with soft and delicate touches, which would then lead to slow-paced yet passionate lovemaking. He would still remain gentle and very sweet until you’re both satisfied.

Silky restraints : If Diluc is in a more primal mood, he’ll use restraints to keep you under control. But he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’ll make sure it’s still comfortable for you. Thus, using soft and silky fabrics is the best option here.

Candles : Some days are good days and some days are bad days. And on a bad day, Diluc will get much rougher than usual. He’ll straight up use his own necktie to tightly bind your wrists above your head to the bedframe. Once he’s sure you won’t be able to move, he’ll get the special, longer than average candles he has in store just for those kinds of moments. He only needs his own vision to control the heat and intensity, so wax play with Diluc will be entirely different from anything you could ever experience with anyone else.  

Childe

Local Snezhnayan boy is usually a huge tease and he loves battles. Nothing will be different in bed, except that his focus will be on you and you only. No way to escape his ministrations.

Metallic Cuffs : Childe likes some struggle and fighting back, because at the end of the day he's confident he can make you hold still. But if he wants to go down on you, he doesn’t want you to wriggle around too much, so he will restrain you with something that won’t make squirming around easy for you. However, if you do try to struggle regardless, he’ll love the marks that will appear the next day on your skin around your wrists. He knows how you got those and you do too : another source of teasing during the day – which may or may not lead into more fucking.

Dog Collar : He would totally make you wear a collar in bed AND outside if you didn’t behave properly. Childe would buy a dog collar especially because you knowing that it's for dogs will get him more embarrassment and humiliation from you when you’ll wear it. He could ask for your favourite colour at least, but he won’t and will pick a blue one, to match his own eyes and Hydro vision. If you behaved really badly, he will take out the leash and make you walk on all fours, around the property. On normal days though, he’s such a show-off that he’ll demand you to wear it so others could see how pretty it looks on you – some people may even notice the cute nametag attacked to it, with your name engraved on the front side and “Tartaglia’s” on the backside.

Spreader Bar : If not a teasing devil, Childe is nothing. He’ll take huge pleasure in spreading and restraining your legs in the morning before going to work, not without having you stuffed with vibrating dildos. So, once he comes back in the evening, you’ve reached an almost pitiful stage, with how much you’ve been overstimulated, for hours and hours. If he’s feeling merciful, he’ll detach you and take you into a warm bath. But if not, he’ll simply make a good use of your more than prepared holes. After all, you’ve been waiting for him like the good girl you are.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche is a big sadist, that’s no news. He would definitely use toys and accessories to inflict pain on his darling, in a way or another.

Lube : It’s a lube which enables electric conduct, meaning that any use of his Electro powers on the lubricated areas will bring an enhanced electrification. He will use it on his own member, so he could stimulate you from your deepest places. Needless to say, there simply won’t be a single fucking session without the use of this lube.

Electric wand : A wand on its own is already fun enough for impact play, but what if it was also electric ? Well, it’s a great match for the previously mentioned lube. Scaramouche can also increase the intensity with his own powers. He doesn't need any control device ; he is the one in control.

Collar set : Speaking of control, he does love it. Inflicting pain too. As well as humiliating. And this ensemble made of a collar, mouth gag and nipple clamps is a perfect all in one. He wouldn’t use it as much as the previous two items, but if he had a not so good day at work, you’re sure to be fucked in this attire. After all, fucking you is a great stress relief for Scaramouche.

#genshin impact #diluc smut #diluc x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #genshin smut #genshin hcs #md.writes #diluc #tartaglia #scaramouche

[juliametzgerart]

I have shared versions of this on other platforms before, so I might as well make a tumblr edition: here some tips for MtG portfolios I gathered and might be interesting for some people who follow me. 1. Since this is a trading card game, here comes the obvious one first: Always keep in mind that these are card illustrations, they have to be readable in super small. Which means that strong silhouettes and value structures are a must have. If you work digital, check the zoomed out version on regular basis, or even have some jpgs to check their thumbnails in your file browser. That can give you an idea about their readability. Traditionally you can of course take some steps back, or take some photographs to look at smaller previews on your devices. Also: print illustrations often come out darker than their screen versions, be careful with your darks! It's rather easy for things to go muddy, even if they look good on screen. In doubt, increase the brightness a bit. It's okay to have different versions for screen and print to meet their needs.

2. Be versatile about your topics and compositions. Zoom in, zoom out. Don't fall into the trap of your own comfort zone zoom level of showing things, or one way of doing things. It can be positive to offer purposefully unusual options.

3. Be aware of the focus. If you have a magician with a staff, ask yourself if the card is about the staff(artifact), the mage (creature) or perhaps even the spell. The composition and focus of the illustration should shift accordingly! Clear action is important for readability – since that is not just visual hierarchy here, but also storytelling. Which brings me to the next point: 4. Good narrative matters, but mechanics matter even more. So, again, be very aware of your illustration's focus. You can potentially add extra elements for the story to make it more fun, but it should not get too convoluted, and even less should it distract from what the card it actually about. If you come up with your very own ideas for a portfolio this is of course much more open than if you work from a description. But you can find a bunch of official MtG descriptions online which are super useful for training.

5. Show care. Plan the illustration, get the references in place. It's the best time to get good habits in place, and really finish the pieces. Don't make them weaker by going too fast, that is not convincing. It just lets people assume worse things for tight deadlines. This does not mean everything needs to be rendered to death - but shape design should remain thoughtful and purposeful even where soft and lost edges are used.

6. It's potentially okay to have your specific stylistic or thematic niche. It can mean less assignments at times, but can also mean more special ones. It's cool though for your voice to be visible as long as the other needs of the product are met.

7. Never stop using those references. Get them, make them, use them - take them seriously. (at least for any of the more realistic styles). It's one of the most repeated tips for any student to actually just use more references. They do a ton to get complicated things like anatomy and lighting right, but also cultural references and versatility. Many of the best Magic artists also make the best references – it's not a coincidence. Learn from the people who have already established themselves, they have great wisdom to share. 8. Your quality has to match the current roster. Yeah, sorry, no way around that one. You need at least to be as good as the currently "worst" artist in the roster to have a chance. And the ADs need to be sure that even on a bad day your art can meet their quality bar. Which is the reason why you likely need several art pieces at the required level, to prove it wasn't just some lucky fluke. Though once you're really there, that also means a bit less pressure to perform, since you're likely comfortable at your skill level and can only go up from there.

#magic the gathering #julia metzger #mtg #illustration #portfolio tips #art tips #mtg portfolio things

[kingshovelbug]

im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

#personal

[vin-taege]

Could you do headcannons for both sfw and nsfw showering with Chishiya? :3

The Water's Just Right

Summary: Showering headcanons for our favorite snarky boy

Genre: fluff, smut, gn! reader

Note: Oh yeah, I'm back again! I've been gone for so long because of college, but I'm here again to revive the aib fandom >:3 also my first time writing headcannons. :DDD I think I got carried away sjjsjs

☄. *. ⋆ sfw

ok let's start with headcannons for the real world

as a doctor, he mainly takes quick showers

contrary to popular belief, i feel like he enjoys hot showers over cold ones. like he's already going to be stressed because of work, so might as well have at least one part of his day be a little relaxing

the only time you can take joint showers with him is during his off-days or if you stay up long enough to catch him coming home

he doesn't like it when you do the latter option because he firmly believes you should take care of yourself and sleep early

even though he runs on 3 hours of sleep maximum every day

he lets you wash his hair after initially (and weakly) refusing

you definitely use scented shampoo on him (strawberry because he thinks floral scents are too strong)

he prefers subtle scents because the hospital is already filled with strong odors.

he'll never admit he likes it when you wash his hair, especially when you massage his scalp

"did you purr a little?"

"I think you need your hearing checked."

loves it when you run your hands up and down his back

you mainly use showering as an excuse to dote on him

likes kissing your neck while you attempt to lather soap on him

random but he installed a non-slip mat on the floor because he doesn't want the two of you to get into any accidents

likes playing with your hair by gathering soap bubbles and dumping them on you

you don't point this out because you're scared he'll withdraw from letting himself be a kid for once

sometimes when it's been a rough day, he lets you hold him in the shower for a moment

just letting the warm water wash away his stress while he melts into your arms

he used to skip lotion until you started putting it on him

he got used to it after that and subconsciously started integrating it into his routine

honestly before you came along, had the worst skincare routine ever

"That's... that's not how you put on facial wash. You need to wash your face with it for at least a minute."

"I'm not a dermatologist, y/n."

"You don't need to be to know that???"

In the borderlands, it's basically the same but without the luxury of proper skin products.

always ALWAYS showers after games

he hates the ick from going outside and keeps himself sane by maintaining cleanliness

surprisingly, he's more forward with asking you to join him

in the real world, you're the one who always asks for permission, but now he always looks for your presence

especially since he knows you could be gone any day

"Do you want to join me?"

"Didn't the heater system break down?"

"I fixed ours. The water's just right."

☄. *. ⋆ nsfw

remember that non-slip mat?

oh yeah, that was definitely for this occasion

he doesn't like lifting you up because again, safety first

prefers standing positions where he can press you up against the wall.

LOVES LOVES LOVES FOGGING UP THE GLASS

he doesn't pull your hair because he knows it'll be prone to breakage

he's such a nerd about bodily care except for when it comes to himself.

holds your neck instead and uses it as leverage to pound into you

either that or he digs his fingers into your hips so he can grind his cock inside you.

makes it his goal to make you squirt at least once

OK THIS IS MY PERSONAL HEADCANNON

it may be because of the tight space, or the bathroom acoustics, or the added privacy

but this man is definitely louder in the shower

you love sucking him off because of this

deep moaning, swearing, whimpering when you're being a little shit and you overstimulate him

plays with your chest a lot because he likes how slippery the soap makes it

LISTEN

also installed a detachable showerhead ;)))

#alice in borderland imagines #aib headcanons #chishiya headcanons #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #aib imagines #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #aib x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #asks #requested

[weirdthinkingdragon]

At Least There's One

Mostly dainsleif x gn reader (honestly could be platonic or romantic)

I don’t remember if he knows who the archons are. Possibly slight ooc dainsleif. This also got out of hand 

Warnings: you get a broken forearm and mentioned other ways of being harmed

Not proofread

Thinking of sagau again. What if you started wearing a mask and they accepted it as you'd change your face if you could? 

They absolutely despised you from looking like their creator (who is actually you but neither they nor you knew that), and have called you every name and even some harm at some point. But at least they're sane enough to understand that faces are genetic from birth. (I also believe teyvat isn't progressed far enough for beauty stuff like plastic surgery, so they knew you COULDN'T change your face.) 

So one day you had enough and just… started wearing a mask of some sort. Even a simple bandana worn like a treasure hoarder's seemed to work. Sure, they still didn't like you very much, but at least they weren't physically hostile and you could actually buy some stuff for foods. You were getting quite sick of just berries and not the best cooked meat. 

You knew ingredients for the recipes from memorizing them from playing genshin, but most if not all don't tell you exactly how long to cook it, always making you overcook or undercook it and just never coming out right or tasting very good.  

That's all you wanted and you weren't ever coming into a place full of people again until you absolutely had to. Every time one of your favorites glare at you it hurts so much more. The only thing you want to do is search harder for a way back to your real world but that better be possible in the wild. 

In speaking of that, it's almost funny to you how willing places were to give you recipes and even ingredients for stuff like hair products when you informed you were planning on stocking up and want to stay out of cities and even towns as long as possible. 

While traveling and stocking up, you thought of the best place to be. Dvalin seemed to be rather kind to you that one time you ran into him, but you knew he was close to Venti and he’d visit Dvalin a lot. He’d… probably not like you hanging so close very much. 

Liyue has so many mountains and you do NOT want to push Zhongli’s patience, whatever it may be. You’d rather not die by a rock or spear. 

Which is also why inazuma is out of the question. You don’t know where the traveler is, and you don’t even know if the puppet’s been changed yet or not. 

Sumeru is an okay option, but running into the rangers would be annoying, and no way are you going to the desert. 

Fontaine would possibly be okay, but that’s so incredibly far from where you are in mondstadt that you decide not to. And past that you haven’t played or experienced so no going other places either. 

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

Your bag is pretty much full as you go to leave. 

You’re distracted though and not looking in front of you, still thinking of where to go when you bump into someone. 

You look and know who it was immediately. You wonder because of who he is, would he act like the others or no?

He notices the glare the archon is giving you from quite a distance away. What could you have possibly done to make him not like you like this?

“Sorry! Wasn’t looking where I was going!” You were really worried you were about to be verbally beaten down again. 

“It’s fine. I forgot what I came here for anyways.” He didn’t, but he could just get it later. He left with you to spite the look the anemo archon was giving you. 

You two get a pretty far distance away from Mondstadt. “Care to explain why the archon seemed to hate you so much?” 

You decided the best way to tell was to show, and took off your mask. “Apparently I look like their creator?” You decided to continue with a lie in a way. “Which I wouldn’t know since I don’t really focus or care about gods or the archons or whatever.” 

He was astounded. That’s all? The only offense you’ve done is literally look like some fictional god or the “creator” he’s never seen or cared to read much about? He didn’t know the archons could find a way to be even worse. 

“I’m also looking for a place without people. No offense but uh, you seem like someone who’d know a good place for that.” 

He shakes off his slight stupor. “I usually don’t stay in a single place for long, but I do know a few.”

He leads you to a really isolated place that took a few hours of walking, but you managed. He even offered to help carry some of your items which surprised himself and you from knowing how he is. 

Your stomach rumbles loudly, embarrassing you. “Sorry. Sadly they wouldn’t let me order food and eat in the city.” 

He’s finding this situation more and more stupid. “That’s fine. Should be pretty easy to set a fire and make some food.”

It’s eventually made and you actually were able to follow a bought detailed recipe of a food you really wanted to try in the game. Looks just like it would. You offer some to Dainsleif which he relents and accepts after a bit of pestering by you. 

The first bite was the best thing you’ve tasted in literal months. It was so good you teared up.

A galaxy looking tear falls from your face, hardening into a solid mass as it falls onto your lap.  They’re not very small either. They somehow become triple in size of an average tear. Then another. And even a few more from just the delicious taste coming to you fall. You don’t even notice.

Dainsleif gets a very bewildered expression. He barely remembers reading about the so-called “creator” but that’s a sign of them that no matter what magic is used can’t be replicated. You… you’re really the creator he thought was fiction. And the strong believing archons… Even their people… He could almost laugh at the absurdity. 

One is still only half-made and sticking to your face. After another moment, it disappears like it was never there. The solid ones are still in your lap though.  

It wasn’t the last time you’d tear up either. A time not too long after that you were kidnapped after falling asleep. Dainsleif left to do who knows what, but you thought you’d be fine alone. 

They’re treasure hoarders. They’re not known to be very nice, and especially aren’t to you, who’ve they heard of as an imposter. While you were tied up one even went so far as to break your forearm. That hurt severely, making a few slip and them all stop dead in their tracks as a solid tear hit the ground. 

Thankfully Dainsleif saw them and you from coming back wherever he was. A protective urge formed from him actually rather liking you. The more he thought about it, the more he was open to liking you and having you as a god other than the archons and celestia. Why? Because being Human. That’s what you were, human. 

His mind made up you wouldn’t have had gods if you could. After all, you let Khaenri'ah form back then. There were gods, but if people didn’t want one, they didn’t have to believe in one. You let people be who they were, and he wouldn’t doubt you would have saved Khaenri'ah more if you could have. But he’s still here, so it isn’t fully gone. You let him stay the best of your abilities to spite the Archons. He likes you’re not all-powerful as well. At least not in this time you decided to come here. Maybe you needed to be human a while to get your strength back? 

Even if not the case, he now wants to be around you. To protect you the best he can, even if it isn’t the best. He also swears when he focuses on it that his curse feels slightly weaker when around you.

He injures them but doesn’t kill them. Just to send a message. 

The treasure hoarders end up letting the info slip next time they’re out of their disguises in mondstadt and liyue, making the two archons hunt you down do apologize for not believing you were. 

They surprisingly work together and find you and Dainsleif rather quickly. 

You’re laying on your back in the grass with your broken arm in a pretty poorly made cast and holding one of the solid tears in your other hand, turning and moving it to watch the sparkles like stars in it move as well. A part of you wishes you could bring one home with you. They’re actually really cool looking. 

Dainsleif tried his best to make a cast but obviously he’s not an expert in the medical field. He's resting as well fairly close to you. Honestly your thighs are almost touching. 

The archons notice and are quite envious. They glare at Dainsleif. 

He senses their presences and turns to look. Having you look as well.

They're shocked with the black shining item in your hand, and just realized all this time they were ignoring the real creator. Not again! They will NEVER ignore you again! “How dare you keep the creator to yourself.” Zhongli says harshly. 

What? You and Dainself share a rather incredulous look. Then go back to looking at the two archons again. 

This makes him hate the archons all the more. He didn’t really care about even the creator before, but at least he had and still has respects for them. And they really didn’t even think of finding a way to test it? Someone shows up for the first time ever in history with the face of the creator and they don’t question it?

How dumb, even the so-called gods themselves who were so beyond obsessed with you were too stupid to realize it was you. He finds it ironic. 

“Why would the creator want to be around any of you after the way you treated them?”

“But we didn’t know!” 

You just respond with an eye roll. You're not going back with them after the way they treated you. Not too long ago you encountered Dvalin again from temporarily staying by a place near the Stormbearer mountains. Dvalin even told you he'd try to tell Venti you're the creator but Venti must have ignored his friend. 

Dainsleif looks at the two archons like they’re stupid. “And… you didn’t bother to check? Even if you didn’t know, they could have still been a human you turned against, which is very unbecoming of an archon. 

You play right into the role, more time passing for you to accept it. "Precisely why I'm not going back. Why would I want to go with someone who'd turn against another just for them having a face of someone they know? I'm ashamed of you guys and your people honestly. If I wasn't the creator, you'd still treat me as nothing more than sand." 

"But-" Venti starts as you cut him off. Shame filling the two more by each of your words.

"I don't want to hear it. You made your Graves, now lie in them. I may not have powers now or ever, but that doesn't mean I should have been treated that way even as human. Leave." 

They did, but are planning ways to make it up to you. They have to have their creator with them, not some low-life like Dainsleif. If it comes down to it and they have to kill him to eventually bring you with them, then that's just what they'll have to do.

#dainsleif #dainsleif x you #dainsleif x reader #yandere dainsleif #SAGAU #genshin sagau #yandere genshin #yandere archons #yandere venti #yandere zhongli #x reader #yandere x you

[honnelander]

go fish! part 4 snippet

i wanted to share a small piece of go fish! part 4 with everyone!! you've all been waiting patiently and i can tell this is going to be a long one so...here's a small piece! (this thing is going to be a BEAST. probably the longest thing i'd have ever written for tumblr)

(disclaimer: this work is unfinished, unedited, and can also not make it into the final product (even though i’m very certain it will))

You were such a coward. 

In your mind, there was no other way to describe yourself and your pattern of recent behavior. Ever since your um, realization at the bar weeks ago, you’ve been avoiding Sanji as best you could.  

Normally, you’d both conveniently end up alone together or seek the other one out like magnets, but ever since you had admitted to yourself that you were in fact, in love with the blonde chef and not just crushing on him anymore, you were finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings under wraps. 

With every wink, smile, and flirty jab directed at you by the charismatic blonde, you felt your resolve weaken by the day. All you wanted to do was grab him by the lapels of his suit jacket and kiss him until you both needed air; you wanted to drown yourself in him and whisper how much you loved him, spilling your heart out to the man you were in love with but you just....couldn’t.  

Besides the fact he probably didn’t return your affections, you couldn’t risk compromising the crew’s dynamic. There was just too much on the line, so you just had to keep your feelings to yourself, as much as it pained you. Every night before you went to bed, you reminded yourself that this was just how life was.  

Since you couldn’t confess your feelings, that left you with only one other option: avoid him as much as you could without being weird. But that was easier said than done. 

“Care for a cold drink, my love?” Sanji asked you one hot day as you and the crew were playing poker, or trying to at least, as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hands with a couple of empty glasses.  

The game turned into more of ‘Nami teaching everyone but Zoro on how to play’, but you’d all been out here what felt like forever and you, Luffy, and Usopp were still as confused as ever.  

You looked up from the cards in your hand to see Sanji looking down at you with an expectant smile, his blue eyes twinkling with an emotion you still didn't quite understand. The whole scenario felt like DeJa'Vu.  

You noticed that look in his eye whenever you’d make eye contact with him as of late, but you just brushed it off. The last thing you needed for your delusions and heartbreak was to think that Sanji could possibly love you too. 

“No thanks,” you replied, brushing him off and looking back down at your hand, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart at one of his nicknames for you. “I’m good.” 

At your response, Nami, Usopp, and Zoro all looked up simultaneously, quickly looking at you then to Sanji with raised eyebrows. You never turned down one of Sanji’s offers.  

The only person to not react was Luffy, as oblivious as ever. “What are you talking about y/n?” the straw hat captain asked as he rearranged the cards in his hand, not looking at you. “You just said you were thirsty a couple of minutes ago.” 

“Yeah, well...” you trailed off, shifting in your seat, your cheeks heating up at being caught and called out in a lie. “I, uh, I’m not, anymore.” 

At your lame response, all eyes turned to look at you, sans Luffy’s, as a beat of silence passed.  

Ever the instigator, Usopp broke the awkward silence first. “You sure about that y/n?” he asked nonchalantly as he turned his attention back to his cards. “You looked a little flushed.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro agreed casually, placing his cards face down on the table as he rubbed his jaw. “You look like you could use a drink y/n.” 

“In fact, you look so flushed, that poor Sanji came all the way out here from the kitchen just so he could take care of you by hand-delivering you a cold glass of water, and you still turn him down? Oof,” Usopp clicked his tongue and shook his head once. “That’s cold.” 

“Ice-cold,” Zoro quipped without missing a beat.  

You looked up from your hand, opening your mouth to tell them off when Nami spoke before you could. 

“I’ll take a glass of water, Sanji. Thank you,” Nami quickly intervened, giving the bantering men a sharp look.  

“I’ll take one too, my good man,” Luffy piped up, raising a finger in the air and looking at Sanji.  

Sanji stood there for a moment, looking at you completely baffled before snapping out of his daze. He blinked a few times in confusion, letting out a small huff, his smile faltering slightly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure thing. Of course,” he replied, placing the glasses and filling them up and handing them out. 

“Hey, waiter? Could I get a beer instead?” Zoro asked Sanji as he placed a cold glass of water in front of Luffy.  

“Oo- could I get a beer too?” Usopp quickly interjected. 

“Uh, sure,” Sanji replied before placing a glass of water in front of Nami, saying in a softer tone, “Here you go Madam.” The blonde cook straightened up slightly, capping the glass water bottle and picking up the now spare empty glasses. Sanji looked down at you, a brow slightly raised as he asked you in a slightly disbelieving tone, “And nothing for you, Missus?” 

At hearing the nickname, your heart skipped a beat. But you still couldn’t look at him. “Nope. I’m good Sanji, thanks.” 

At your dismissal, Sanji sucked on his teeth, nodding once. “Alright...got it.” He exhaled slightly. “I’ll, uh, be right back with the beers,” he said dejectedly before turning on his heel and making his way back towards the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I’m not really understanding this whole ‘poker’ thing,” Luffy said, putting his cards face up on the table. “What if we play slapjack instead?” he asked brightly, looking around the table. 

Zoro scoffed. “I haven’t played slapjack since I was a kid.” 

“How about we play go fish instead?” Usopp asked. 

“I am not playing go fish. Now that game is for children,” Zoro quickly rebuked, like he was insulted at the idea of playing such a stupid game. After a beat, the swordsman smirked as he said, “Which makes sense why you’d want to play, Usopp, since you’re a child yourself-” 

“Hey!” Usopp whined. “Just because I drink chocolate milk for breakfast sometimes doesn’t make me-” 

At the sound of the boys’ bickering, Nami tuned them out. Instead of listening to their pointless arguing, she couldn’t help but watch a despondent Sanji disappear from the deck. It looked like it was time to have another talk with him.  

#go fish! au #snippet #opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #no taglist sorry- since it's only a snippet!