#fuck every single one of you ghouls who supported him

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

pls tell us you have more Ghoul Thoughts on the way🙏🏻

General NSFW Cooper Howard Headcanons 2

Prewar!Cooper Howard

Has a little-bitty bit of an intox kink. He'd never do anything untoward, but I think if he had a partner who didn't party much, it would turn him on a lot to watch them getting all warm-faced and losing their inhibitions after exactly one drink. Working in Hollywood means that sometimes you have to go out and attend functions to mingle and rub elbows, so he's pretty good at holding his liquor. Seeing someone who isn't stirs something up in him, and he's not good at rejecting your advances when the two of you get home like he should.

Shibari kink. Doesn't know that's what it's called, and hasn't really read up much about it, but really gets riled up seeing you wrapped in his lasso. One day you find a book about it, and you show it to him as a half-joke. Soon you're wearing a harness made out of that rope underneath your clothes.

Erotic grooming, anyone? This man will jump to help you wash and brush your hair in the shower. He finds it incredibly intimate, and would help Barb take care of her hair when they were together. He's also very happy to help you shave...

The Ghoul

Can we talk about how lazy this man would normally be during sex? He's 260+ years old and spends all day walking for miles in the desert heat and fighting the entire Wasteland. He would absolutely have you riding him/doing most of the work 90% of the time. And you know what? I support it. He deserves a little spoiling, so hop up and go nuts. But make no mistake: he's still the one in control.

Insanely possessive and only tries to hide the parts of it that he thinks would be truly off-putting. He knows he can't literally stop every single man in the world from interacting with you, looking at you...but if he could, he would. Big into marking you up with hickies, bite marks. Scent marking around other ghouls. The idea of tattooing or even branding you makes him hard as a rock, but he'd never bring it up first, too afraid it'd scare you off.

In the same sort of arena, he's obsessed with fucking his load back into you, be it with his tongue, his fingers, or his cock. You did the work of getting it out of him, you earned it; you're keeping it. Better have the Radaway ready.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard headcanons #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #prewar!cooper howard #vaultghoul #ghoulcy #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

[theusurpersdog]

You know what I’m tired of hearing? “If you don’t support Amber Heard you only support perfect victims”. Because she literally is the *perfect* victim - she has a dozen witness, including medical professionals, photographic proof, calls made to 911, audio of Depp admitting to hitting her, and she didn’t get any money, went to a court not the press, and hardly spoke two sentences about it. She did everything we tell victims to do.

If you don’t support her, you literally won’t support anyone. I’ve literally never seen someone have as much proof of DV as her. Fucking unreal.

#amber heard #i stand with amber heard #fuck every single one of you ghouls who supported him #fuck johnny depp

[chapel-of-rizztual]

This has me thinking about Swiss going into heat on stage. He tried so hard to ignore it, tried so hard to act like he was fine and nothing was wrong. But about halfway through the set it hits him all at once making his knees buckle. 

He can smell Mountain. It makes it so much worse. The earth ghoul always worked up a sweat behind those drums but today it was particularly bad, the rich earthly scent flooding his senses and clouded his mind like thick fog. 

He looks back at Mountain, leaning against the mic stand for support, hoping to catch Mountain’s eyes from under both their masks. Mountain isn’t paying attention to him, too busy focusing on playing, which he should be too, but he’s distracted by Mountain, watching his strong arms come down on each drum, with strong hits.  He groans, unable to help himself, wondering what they’d feel like hitting somewhere else. 

He feels himself collapse with need, grinding against the mic stand as his knees hit the floor. Mountain’s looking at him, he can feel his eyes burning into the back of his head, can feel the disapproving stare from under the mask, but he can’t stop himself now. The pressure on his cock is too good, too much, and nothing in the world could get him to stop now. There’s slick soaking through his trousers, running down his thighs, he knows Mountain can see it, know he can smell it as he watched Mountain scent the air, sees him gritting his teeth with a growl, bringing his arms down on the drums even harder. 

He’s moaning under the mask, thankfully the loud music help cover it up, but he knows that Mountain is close enough to hear him. He can’t stop rocking on his feet, pushing his cock into the cold metal of the mic stand. 

There’s a tapping onto his mind connection, like someone is poking at his brain and if he was in the right state of mind he’d ignore it, focus on his work, but right now he’s lost the ability to think. He opens his mind and let’s the wavelength in. 

"if you're gunna act like a bitch in heat,  I'm gunna breed you like one.” 

Mountain’s deep voice booms in his brain, echoing around, even over the loud music

Swiss falls forward with a loud moan, he almost falls face first into the floor, but he doesn’t care about that. His brain is gone, turned to mush and leaking out his ears. His arches his back, pushing his ass out and high in the air, presenting himself for Mountain. If his tail was unglamoured it would be hitched up high over his hip, the perfect position to be mounted and bred. 

He can’t see Mountain from this position, and he’s glad for it. But he can still hear him, sneering at him in his mind. 

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me come over there, Mount you like the bitch you are.” He hears the drum miss a single beat before resuming it’s otherwise perfect playing. “You want that? Want to be mounted and fucked right in front of everyone? Show them all how well you take such a big cock, how well your greedy little hole just swallows it? How well you take a knot? Wanna show them what a good little breeding bitch you really are?” 

Swiss moansloud enough that Phantomlooks behind him with a looks of shock on his face. Swiss doesn’t care though, just arches his back even more for Mountain, feeling a rush of slick leaking out of him, and running down his thighs.

He feels Mountain in his head again, poking around, and it makes him whine before Mountain has even had the chance to say anything. 

“And once I was done using you, breeding you, I’ll turn you around and make you show the audience, show them your little hole all stretched out and full of me. Show them how I claim you, and every single one of them will know who you belong too.” 

Swiss blacks out a little as he cums, feeling his cock pulsating hotly in his jeans as he feels himself coat the inside of them and make them warm and wet and sticky.  He whines, long and low in his throat, before getting back up on very wobbly feet, trying to act like that didn’t just happen.he grimaces, his jeans sticking to him in an uncomfortable way, damp and sticky. 

He has to sing in a second, his part of the backing vocals coming up. He looks back at Mountain, only to find the earth ghoul looking directly back at him. He watches as Mountain runs his tongue along his fangs, palming at the very obvious erection in his jeans, all while never missing a beat. He feels his cock begin to kick and fatten back up at the wild look in Mountain’s eyes, and he knows right then and there that he’s in for a long night. 

#As you can see I am feeling very normal about Swiss ghoul today #the band ghost #ficlet #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #My writing

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

On Family

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

Previous Excerpt

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One question that I see asked in the news a lot is why there are still any ghouls left. We have a distinctive, high-impact feeding habit that requires us to stay within human society, where we are both outnumbered and outgunned. This has essentially been the case since the development of automatic firearms, and you’ve continued to develop more and more effective methods of killing us since then. How are we not extinct?

The talking heads always have lurid theories to propose. My personal favorite one, which comes up every couple of years or so, is that the government is secretly breeding us so that they have an excuse to send secret police out into the general populace for nefarious purposes pretending to be exterminators. As if they’d need the excuse {Editing Note: I’ve gotta keep my political views out of this except where they directly pertain to ghouls. No unnecessarily alienating people}. The most commonly accepted one seems to be that we just have a lot of children to compensate for our high mortality rate. Spatha calls that an R strategy, I think. Scarlet calls it the Rabbit Theory. Whatever you call it, it’s wrong. Our species has survived off the strength and compassion of our families.

Contrary to popular impressions, our “nuclear” families are pretty small. My understanding is that 1-4 children is the typical range. I’m the only confirmed only child in my friend group. Scarlet’s the youngest of three, Scorpio’s a middle child, Spatha avoids talking about her home life, and Kestrel doesn’t know her biological parents. There’s a couple of pressures that keep our family sizes small. First, it’s challenging to feed too many ghouls at once, especially ghoul children, who we don’t want worrying about where they’re going to get their meals. Second, the majority of ghoul parents are going to end up as single parents before their kids are fully grown. Either one of them is going to get killed, or they’re going to have to separate to go on the run from the exterminators; and, of course, we do still break up and get divorced sometimes.

These pressures are exaggerated by our general lack of an extended family. It’s not that all of our aunts and uncles get hunted down - even if they did, we’d still have cousins - but it’s not safe for us to have traceable extended families. When exterminators identify a ghoul, the first thing they do is put out a bulletin for all known blood relatives. The most common tactic to avoid this is, when multiple siblings make it to adulthood, at least one of them changes their identity and moves away. This isn’t always done, but it’s done often enough that document forging is a widespread and well-respected profession in the Society. It’s useful for dodging exterminators in other circumstances too. My mom and I changed our names and moved cities after exterminators killed my dad when I was 4.

Between that and the sheer number of out-and-out orphans in our Society, it should come as no surprise that we’ve developed a new family structure to fill in the gaps. The terminology we use for this structure is variable, but the term I’ve always used is “household”. A household is a sort of adopted extended family, typically formed by and centered around one particularly resourceful ghoul called a patron. The patron takes whichever ghouls they choose under their wing, introduces them to each other, and helps them coordinate their talents and resources so that they all have everything they need. Most obviously, this means making sure they all have a supply of flesh, but there are numerous other kinds of support a household can provide. I doubt I need to emphasize again how valuable a reliable source of companionship and safety is, but patrons typically have access to connections and contacts that can help the other members of the household accomplish their goals.

My household, for example, was founded by our patron Yaga. It consists of her, her adopted daughter Kestrel, my mom and I, my friends Scarlet and Scorpio and their immediate families, and four other older ghouls. There’s also Spatha, who has been reluctant to fully join the household but acts like a member in most contexts. Three of our members have reliable flesh sources, and Yaga coordinates with other ghouls to find supplementary sources to ensure that she always has a surplus on hand. This keeps all of us well-fed and lets her distribute the rest to those in need in exchange for favors and cachet that the rest of us can use for our own advancement. In turn, the rest of us pitch in for odd jobs here and there, mostly on flesh-gathering jobs of one kind or another, and we look out for each other. I’ve done a bit of babysitting with Kestrel, for example, and Yaga was able to get me and Scarlet summer jobs to save up for college.

Babysitting, by the way, is one of the most valuable services a household can provide to a ghoul parent. Given our mortality rate, it probably isn’t a surprise that there’s a good bit of cultural pressure to have children, and have them quick. Ghoul children are… a lot. When we’re newborn, we’re pretty much like human babies. Ghoul babies can nurse from ghoul mothers for awhile, which is a relief. They need to switch to flesh before their teeth come in, though, so that means flesh slurry, which is more complicated to make than you might think. For best results, you want a mix of blood, muscle tissue, organ tissue, and bone, especially marrow. We get better at pulling all our nutrients from just flesh as we mature, but babies aren’t as developed. Getting those varied tissues is a little more complicated than just getting flesh. Bone especially is challenging - more mature ghouls have no need for it, and it’s honestly kinda gross. You just have to hope that whoever you’re getting flesh from can start holding some bones for you. Not every source has easy access to bones. 

{Editing Note: I think I wrote bone too many times - it looks fake now. Bone. Bone.}

We get our ghoul teeth at the same time as our baby teeth. Our ghoul teeth fall out and are replaced too, but we keep growing new ones our whole lives, kinda like sharks. Funnily enough, I don’t think we grow extra human teeth, which seems like a strange way for evolution to take us, but what do I know, I’m not a biologist. At that point we can start eating regular flesh, and parents have the unenviable task of explaining to toddlers that they can’t just slide their teeth out whenever they want. Our other features come in a bit later - claws between 4 and 6, eyes with puberty. Let me tell you, the claws hurt coming in. I couldn’t hold a pencil for a month. My mom told the elementary school that I was deathly sick so she could keep me home, but I think Scarlet just pretended he’d broken both his hands and went in splints. I don’t envy him - stretching my claws did a lot to relieve the pain.

I’ll admit freely that, by our standards, I had a pretty charmed childhood. I fit into human society pretty easily, I had a mom who loved me and could provide for me, a patron and household to help pick up the slack, and ghoul friends my own age. I had the discipline to keep my true nature hidden from my human peers, and I don’t think I was even particularly traumatized by the pressure of performing humanity that much. I can safely attribute that to the fact that I had safe spaces throughout my life to let the charade drop. Most ghouls at least have that. Most, but not all.

Our integration into human society also means that we inevitably become entangled in human society. We become invested in the lives of our human peers, we befriend them, care about them. Sometimes we fall in love with them. Eating people seems like kind of a big secret to keep from a potential romantic partner - I certainly couldn’t manage it - but some ghouls form romantic relationships with humans nonetheless. Maybe some of these human partners eventually discover the truth and are willing to overlook it for the person they love, but I doubt it happens often. I’ve certainly never heard of it. I’ve heard of it going the other way, though, a human partner discovering the truth and reacting poorly. Someone always dies when that happens. I personally know a few ghouls who’ve dated humans, or are seriously involved with them. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I get that the heart wants what it wants, but some wants aren’t worth the risk.

{Editing Note: That last line feels… tense. Emotionally charged. Why? And should I change it?}

In my opinion, the gravest of these risks is what happens when a human and a ghoul decide they want to build a life together, but kids are already in the equation. The human-ghoul mixed family is probably the most toxic environment that a ghoul child could be raised in and conceivably survive. All that pressure of hiding your true nature from your peers as you grow up? That feeling of isolation that follows you everywhere you go among humans? All of the most crushing emotional turmoil I’ve described in this book so far? Imagine if there was no relief for that even at home with your family. I frankly have no idea how ghoul parents manage to feed themselves and their children without being caught, or how they manage to perform humanity so flawlessly and constantly that their literal immediate family never catches on. I don’t know how those children manage to survive to adulthood, but I imagine they have some seriously fucked up mental health problems by the time they do. Factor in the suspicion that they would inevitably face from our Society when they finally are able to join it properly - after all, who more likely to become a Judas or be Lost than a ghoul raised by humans? - and I’d be willing to bet most of them don’t make it out of their twenties.

Before we move on entirely from families in general and mixed families in particular, I’d like to take a quick aside to talk about “half-ghouls”. You hear about them in horror media fairly often, the biological child of a human and a ghoul. Authors love to ascribe all sorts of traits to these hypothetical creatures - greater and more monstrous than the sum of their parts, supernaturally strong and vicious, impossible to detect within human society, sometimes with traits that are blatantly impossible, like telepathy or mind control or just plain magic. All of that is obviously untrue, but it’s something of a point of contention as to whether or not a “half-ghoul” is even possible. None of the ghouls I’ve talked to seem to agree about whether it can happen, and a search of human medical literature was similarly inconclusive. Humans, at least, seem to think that it might be theoretically possible, but have never been able to verify it by observation or by medical experiment. Of the ghouls I know that have been romantically involved with humans, none of them have ever gotten a kid out of it. It’s one of those things where we just don’t know. If it were possible, I’m not even sure what the implications would be.

#my writing #memoirs of a flesh eater #original fiction #not tlt

[bbyboybrock--archived]

The More the Merrier (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: After a magical xplr trip with their daughter, a pregnant reader and Colby are in for a surprise at the hospital.

Written: 2020

Word Count: 3,590

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy, swearing, NICU

Masterlist

“You promise this isn’t some haunted location. This is just a forest, right? No demons or spirits involved.” I ask as I help Bea out of the car.

“Babe, I’ve told you a hundred times. This is just a normal explore trip. No ghost, ghouls, or goblins. I promise. I did a lot of research.” Colby explains as he grabs our backpacks out of the trunk.

“Okay, I’m just checking. I love our family the way it is and it would be a real bummer if we had to take home a possessed 6-year-old instead of our little angel. Or you know, this next little popping out of me like an alien.” I gently rub my hand over my ever-growing belly. The fact that Colby even managed to get me out here at seven months pregnant is a miracle.

It would have been Sam, Colby, Kat, and I on this trip but Kat is 9 months pregnant and on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. Up until last week, Kat and I have been doing everything together. Joint announcements, gender reveals, baby showers, etc. When we both found out we were having boys, we had to take a break because we just know that we’re about to give birth to mini versions of Sam and Colby. Truly a nightmare.

“Bea, hold one of our hands please,” I call after the energetic 6-year-old. I let go of her hand to put her backpack on her and put mine on and she began darting further into the forest with her creepy stuffed doll that Jake gave her when she was born.

“Here, take this, I got her.” Colby hands me the blogging camera and runs after Bea. He scoops her up and waits for me to catch up to them.

“Honestly, at this rate, I’m having the baby in the middle of the forest,” I say after waddling over to Colby and Bea.

“Please don’t joke like that. I know we packed stuff in case of an emergency, but I’m not mentally prepared for that. So keep that sucker in there until he is fully cooked please.” Colby says kissing my forehead before handing Bea to me and taking the camera back.

We walk for a bit while Bea holds my hands. Every once in awhile she’ll let go of my hand to pick up something she found on the ground and put it in her backpack. Last time I checked she had about 5 rocks and a couple of twigs. The whole time Colby was vlogging the two of us. If it was for our family channel or his channel, I couldn’t tell you. Most of the time when the three of us going on little outings like this and he’s filming it’s for our channel, but he’ll sometimes include footage on his channel every once in a while.

“Mommy, daddy, look a lizard!” Beatrice yells before running forward towards a tree.

“Bea! Try not to hurt him, okay? We’re in his house.” Colby calls out after the energetic mini version of ourselves.

“Okay, so two things: 1. I really have to pee and I don’t think there is a restroom here. 2. I need a break; my back and ankles are killing me and I’m starving. Maybe coming out here this late into the pregnancy was a bad idea. I don’t remember my stomach being this big or being this tired when I was 8 months pregnant with Bea.” I stretch my back a little bit to try to elevate some of the pain.

Being this far along, I haven’t been able to get much done. I began to appreciate that my full-time job rarely requires me to leave the house. I can just sit at home and make videos while sitting in the same spot. Colby’s been great about staying home more and doing sit down videos. The further I got into my pregnancy, the less time he spent out of the house filming for long periods.

“Mommy, look how fast I can climb this rock. I can be just like daddy!” Beatrice shouts before climbing up a medium rock formation.

Colby runs after her, in case she falls. Her little legs move faster than Colby can keep up with. Looking at him now, you wouldn’t believe that he was running from cops and potential murderers nearly every day. After I got pregnant with Bea, Colby starting doing messy risky videos. Just our luck, Beatrice seems to be making up for him by doing risky things like jump on the kitchen counters. ”I’m just exploring like daddy,” she would explain when I would catch her dangling on the opposite side of the stair rails. She looks so much like him. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had my hair, you would think that Colby created and gave birth to her all on his own. For my sake, I hope our little boy is more like me. I don’t think I can handle 3 Colbys on my own. I love him, but sometimes it’s like being a single mother with two children.

We reach the little picnic area that Colby has been talking about all week. The first thing that my eyes land on in the bathroom. I immediately make a beeline to the bathroom, leaving Colby to wrangle Bea on his own. The bathroom, like the picnic area, is cleaner than I imagined it would be. Even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t afford to be picky, this baby is headbutting my bladder like a little goat. He is definitely going to be like Colby, I can promise you that.

“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself. I know that I needed to pee, but it felt like someone popped a water balloon. This has to be a normal bathroom break, right? I still have a month left, this shouldn’t be happening right now. My back has been hurting for a while, but that could be Braxton hicks. I had a lot of those when I was pregnant with Bea.

I get up quickly and go wash my hands. Thinking of ways to tell Colby that the baby may be coming right now. I don’t want to alarm him. Colby is cool under pressure, but he’s an absolute maniac when he’s in dad mode.

“Hey, Colby, my love, I might— What did you do?” I walk out to the picnic area covered in fairy lights and Bea sitting on the table. Colby is holding a small bouquet. The corner of his mouth crept up his face and exposed his teeth slightly. He walks up towards me and places his hand out. I take it without hesitation. He leads me to the table that Bea is sitting on and ushers for me to sit. He places the flowers in my lap and sits down next to me.

“Okay, so I know this is a bit strange and unexpected. But in all honesty, this has been put off long enough. Y/N, we’re been together for seven years and every day I fall deeper in love with you. You’re an amazing mother to Beatrice and a supportive girlfriend. I should have done this earlier but we were barely together for a year when you got pregnant with Bea and I didn’t want you to think that I was only doing it because you were pregnant and I’m from Kansas. In all honestly have done it before but it never felt like the right moment. I bought this ring the day after Bea was born and I’ve just been carrying it in my pocket for the right moment. Which is stupid because my whole brand is ‘now or never’ but I wanted the moment to be perfect for you. I know that you always say that we don’t have to get married or that you don’t need a big wedding. But I know deep down that you want those things, and I want you to be happy. You’re the love of my life and I want you to have your big fairytale wedding, so Y/N Y/LN, will you do me the honors and marry me?” Colby slides off the bench in one fluid motion and drops down to his knee. He pulls out a ring box from his pocket to reveal a ring that’s not big or small. It’s the perfect size and looks like the ring I’ve been dreaming about my entire life.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Colby, I will marry you!” I let Colby slide the ring on my finger, which is surprisingly the only thing that hasn’t gotten bigger with this pregnancy. He comes up to my level and kisses me. Bea cheers and wraps her little arms around us.

“Oh yeah, you were trying to tell me something when you got out of the bathroom.” Colby’s face is so red and he can’t stop smiling.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, so my water might have broken.” I rub my lower back and watch Colby’s smile drop.

“Are you fucking serious? You’re in labor and you let be babble like an idiot?” Colby starts running around the picnic table and grabbing his camera. He disappears behind the bathroom and comes back with two rangers.

****

As soon as we got back into cell range, I called the doctor. She told us that we had enough time to make it to the hospital. When I told Colby that my water broke, he must have thought that I mean our son’s head was currently dangling out of my vagina because he’s driving like a maniac. I feel fine. My contracts are roughly 20 minutes or more apart, which I told the doctor. I’m vlogging the whole thing because this is going to make an amazing video. You would think that after already having one baby, Colby would mellow out a little bit. I gave Bea her lunch that she was supposed to have after the proposal.

I still can’t believe that Colby proposed. I would have been fine with not putting an official label on our relationship. I could have been happy being his girlfriend for the rest of my life, but he was right I did want a big wedding. To one day be Mrs. Colby Brock. Now it’s going to come true.

“Oh, shit—” Colby mutters under his breath. He reaches into his pocket and hands me his phone. I take it from him and set the camera up on the dashboard.

“Who am I calling? Your parents?” I ask as I unlock his phone and head to his contact.

“Oh shit, I almost forgot. Call them and your parents too. But call Jake, we need him to meet us at the hospital to watch Bea for us.” He nervously runs his hand threw his hair before placing it back on the wheel.

I scroll until I find the contact labeled ‘Demon Spawn’ and call him. The phone rings about three times before he picks up.

“Hey Colby, did she say yes?” Jake asks immediately.

“Hey Jake, it’s me. Colby’s driving right now.” I put the volume louder so Colby could hear.

“Oh fuck— um… did Colby ask you about… brunch on Sunday at our place?” I can hear Tara next to him whispering about something.

“Jake, you’re fine. I asked her and she said yes. You can relax.” Colby says—yells— from his side of the car.

“Oh! She said yes.” Jake tells someone, again probably Tara, on the other side of the phone.

“You know they’re on speaker, I can hear them. But congrats you guys!” Tara cheers.

“Thank you. But we’re actually calling you guys so you can meet us at the hospital.” I explain. I watch Bea spill something in the review mirror and hand her a napkin.

“We’re already here. Wait, is the baby coming?” I hear movement on the other side of the line.

“Wait, why are you two at the hospital? Did Jake play with the easy bake oven again?” I thought after the last time, Tara and I hide that stupid thing. Jake almost burned the house down when we were all living together still.

“Huh? Oh no! Kat is having the baby. Should be any minute now. We’ve been here all day.” Tara explains. I’m positive she took the phone from Jake and sent him off somewhere.

“Wait, Kat went into labor and didn’t tell me?”

“Her water broke right after you texted us that you left. She refused to let any of us tell you guys because she didn’t want to ruin the proposal. She said that we could tell you guys after. But don’t worry. Everything is fine, Sam has been coming out every like 30 minutes with updates. Now that we know you’re back from the mountains, we’ll text you until you get here.”

“Okay thanks, but you don’t need to. We’re like five minutes away.”

“Okay, we’ll be waiting. Just don’t have my nephew on the side of the road or anything.” Tara says before hanging up the phone.

****

Lying in the hospital room, I wait patiently as the nurse checks the ultrasound. She has an indifferent face, probably not to scare expecting mothers, but her lack of expression is what’s scaring me. She has been looking for a while and has even taken a few pictures. Colby sits beside me with Bea sleeping in his lap. She fell asleep in the car right before we got here. Lucky for Colby, I could still waddle on my own so he could carry Bea.

“Okay, everything looks okay. The doctor will come in to confirm and give you your options.” The nurse smiles as she removes the ultrasound jelly from my stomach.

Colby grabs my hand and strokes it quietly. I know he must be stressed and what he can do right now is limited. However, this small little touch, one he’s must have done hundreds of times, is enough right now.

Dr. Long comes in and greets us. She must have just come from Katrina’s room. She gave birth right after we got here. We were lucky enough to see everyone before we got shuttled off into our room. Dr. Long squirts more cool ultrasound jelly on my belly and scans around. After a few seconds, she clicks a button so we can hear the heartbeat. It sounds different than before, almost echoed.

“Okay, Ms. Y/LN, Mr. Brock a lot of things are happening right now. We missed something during your first few scans. There is a second baby in there, hiding behind your son. We didn’t detect the second baby because it is a bit smaller than the first baby. Their heartbeats were very close in sync which is why we couldn’t notice two different beats. Both babies are doing well. I’m just going to check to see how dilated you are before we can talk more.” Dr. Long wipes off the jelly and covers up my stomach.

“S-second baby? You mean she’s having twins?” Colby asks, jumping up and waking up Bea.

“I’m actually going to kill you,” I mutter under my breath. Giving birth was hard enough, but two at the same time had to be worse.

“Yes, twins. It’s not uncommon for parents to not know they’re having more than one baby until birth. Would you like to know the gender of the second baby?”

Colby takes a quick look at me and I nod.

“Yes, please. I mean it doesn’t matter but knowing would still be nice.” Colby asks.

“Baby B is a girl. And it looks like you’re in pre-labor. Your water did not break but you did pass the mucus plug. You’re only 4 centimeters dilated, so you still have a while.” Dr. Long finally resurfaces and looks at Colby and me. Our faces must be panicked.

“So, what then? We stay here? We go home?” I ask sitting up a bit more.

“Well, Ms. Y/LN, you have a few options. First, because you are 35 weeks pregnant, that’s still a bit early even for twins. I would suggest slowing down the labor for a few hours and injecting the babies with a steroid that would help their lungs develop faster. It’s two injections 12 hours apart. Or we can get ready to do a C-section right now. In both cases, the babies might have to spend some time in the NICU, but both methods are safe this early.”

“I mean, I want to keep them in for as long as possible so probably the first option. What do you think Colbs?” I ask. My stress levels increase. I know that Dr. Long says that the babies will be fine, but I can’t help but worry.

“Hey, it’s your body. I’ll support whatever you want to do but I think that’s best too.” Colby goes back to stroking my hand. Beatrice is resting her head on his chest.

“Okay, we’ll be back in a few minutes to get set up.” Dr. Long says before leaving us in silence.

****

A week to a month; that’s how long Dr. Long says the twins might have to stay in the NICU. Relatively speaking, they’re fine. They’re just premature and struggling with low birth weight and underdevelopment. They’re too small for car seats, which Colby is going to have to get another one of. We’re going to have to get another one of everything. Maybe we can exchange the stroller we got at the baby shower for a double one. We’re also going to have to get a lot more baby clothes, or at least another going home outfit for when the time comes. I also had my own complication after giving birth and now have to stay an extra day. Mentally, I wasn’t prepared for two babies, and I don’t think my body was either. They came five minutes apart, first our son, and then our daughter.

“Hey, Y/N,” I hear a familiar voice say from behind me. The nurses were checking on the twins so I decided to give them some room and step out.

“Hey, Kat, Sam, how’s little Oliver?” I smile at them. They’re walking towards me, holding their little bundle of joy in a car seat.

“He’s fine. He passed the car seat test so we’re set to go home. How are the twins?” Sam asks. Kat gives me a quick hug from her wheelchair.

“They’re doing their best. They’re Colby’s kids so they’re stubborn as hell, I can tell already. How are you feeling Kat?” I look at the exhausted Canadian. She had a smooth birth and gets to leave a day after. She has bits of blue dye in her hair that she got done after finding out she was having a boy.

“I’m tired and everything hurts. I don’t know how you did it twice in one day.” She sighs and brushes her hair out of her face.

“I don’t know. But you two go home and snuggle that little baby before he starts smelling like sugar and play-doh.” I joke. I wave them off and go back to watching the nurses. They’ve moved on to other babies now.

“Mommy!” Just as I’m about to get up and go back into the NICU, I hear Beatrice running down the hall. Colby is following quickly behind her.

“Hi my loves,” Bea climbs up next to me and rests her head on my chest.

“Sorry, she was just excited to see you and the babies.” I noticed the vlog camera in Colby’s hand. I’m glad he’s still documenting everything for us.

“Where are they? Where are my baby brother and sister? Daddy said that they were dropped off this morning.” I look at Colby confused because we had a conversation about how we would explain this all to her. In fact, I know we had a conversation with her months ago about where babies come from.

“I panicked…” Colby says quickly to explain why our daughter was talking about storks.

“Well, your brother and sister are in that room right there but you can’t go in there. They’re really small and a little bit sick. So, they want to be extra safe and only let mommies and daddies in there. But one of us can go in there and FaceTime so you can see them.” I stoke Bea’s hair and kiss her forehead.

“Okay, I understand. It’s like when my throat was hurting when I was little and I couldn’t go to preschool so other kids couldn’t make me more sick. What are their names?” She asks running over to the window and tiptoeing so she can peek in.

Colby and I had a lot of time to think about this. We decided on two conditions:1. I would name our daughter and he would name our son and 2. their middle names would match. We split the job in half to deal with the stress. We didn’t even have one name when we knew that we were having one baby, let alone two.

“Well, your brother’s name is Aiden Isaiah. And your little sister’s name is Chloe Isabella.” I explain to her.

“Yeah, and they’re both so excited to meet you and explore the world with the rest of us,” Colby says softly before kissing me on the cheek. With that kiss, I knew that everything would be fine.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagines #colby imagine #collby imagines #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby imagines #fluff imagine #fluffy imagines #dad colby #dad!colby imagine #dad!colby imagines #imagine #imagines

[angelliev]

Halloween Special!🎃  Okay, Mista JJ💋

Summary: JJ & Aria make their own Halloween movie.

Warnings: Smut! Language! Intense Role-play  JJ exploding our ovaries with this GIF^

A/N: Hey guys! Happy Halloween to all of you cool boos and ghouls. I know I haven't been here for a while now. It’s been busy and chaotic these past few months with school, work, and moving. I’m still writing the Lover Boy series though, so tune in. This is a little flashback (Halloween Special), still part of the series though. I know I’ve said this more than a thousand times, but thank you for your support with the likes, comments and especially the reblogs. Words can’t even begin to describe how much I appreciate you guys! Stay safe out there my lovies, and stay spooky. Muhahaha.

"Trick or Treat!” The miniature voices hollered at John B’s front porch. The boys, all dressed up of course, happily handed the kids candy. JJ didn't hold back as he gave each of them handfuls. It’s a good thing a bough a shitload of candy bags with me. However, I think the parents think otherwise when they watched the candy fall into the children's bags. “Happy Halloween guys! Dope costumes by the way!” The kids smile and high five JJ. The pogues had decided on dressing up as DC Comic Characters. Pope is dressed as Batman, pairing with Kie who was pulling off a sexy Catwoman suit. Sarah shined bright in her Wonder Woman outfit with John B who is going as Superman. I decided to dress up as my favorite supervillain, Harley Quinn from Suicide Squad. I couldn't help but prance around giddily in the Quinn’s boots, wearing the Daddy’s Little monster shirt, the Property of The Joker jacket, Puddin choker, temporary tattoos, hair in pigtails in red and blue, sexy fishnets, and the seductive sparkly shorts. Both Kie and Sarah knew I was in for it when I walked out in the outfit. I was surprised JJ didn't take me right there on John B’s couch when I strutted out. Instead he licked his lips that were curled into a smirk and eyed me with those luscious blue eyes. He wasn't the only once aroused. My eyes couldn't rip away from the gold chain on his neck, and the temporary tattoos that littered his body. His white button up, had a few loose buttons, exposing his chest that I wanted to nip at so bad. He was even pulling off the green hair. 

The trick or treaters began to finally die down. A Halloween movie played outside, all of us were seated in lawn chairs. The pogues continued to talk away in an excited conversation about the movie when an idea popped in my head. I take out my phone and open up my messages. My fingers began to type away on the keypad, my bottom lip caught in between my teeth. I look up at JJ one last time before hitting send. I act fast by hitting record on the screen. His phone dings, resulting in him taking it out and opening up the message. He sips his beer as he reads the explicit text, making him choke on the alcohol. “You good?” Asked a concerned Pope. “Yea, just swallowed more than I thought.” (Michael Scott That's What She Said) I smirk before getting up and walking away, making sure to add an extra sway to my hips, knowing that JJ’s lustful predator eyes were watching, my panties already starting to pool. 

Aria lays on the bed, smoke passing through her lips, waiting patiently for her boyfriend to come, camera in hand recording as the weed relaxes her body. Like clockwork, JJ enters the room hastily, a smirk plastered on his face, and his eyes a shade darker. “I missed ya Mista J.” I say trying my best to perfect the voice. JJ just chuckles darkly. “What’s with the camera?” He asked bewildered. “Thought we make a movie puddin’. I know you like movies.” The statement seemed to excite him. I bet the hot blood is always rushing down south. “That I do babygirl. You're a naughty little girl though. Sending me such a dirty sext in front of my friends.” “What text would you be referring to?” I played dumb. “Maybe this will jog your memory?” He holds the phone up to the screen, displaying the provocative text. 

“Hey Mista J. Why don’t you rev up your Harley by filling her up with your hot puddin?”

Before I could even respond, JJ took the camera from my grasp, and pushing my hand down his pants, where it’s met with the naked bulge. “This what you want your daddy to fill your sweet little pussy up with?” If I wasn't already drenched before, I sure am now. “Yes, please daddy.”  

“That’s a good girl. Let’s warm you up first.” He places the camera before opening up the sock drawer taking out the gun. He makes sure to unload it, checking it multiple times. “Put those pretty lips to good use will ya?” The barrel of the gun ghosted 👻 my red painted lips smiling. “Okay Mista J.” I look up into the camera with such innocent eyes before wrapping said lips around the barrel. JJ slowly maneuvers the weapon in and out of my mouth, lubricating it. “Such pretty lips you've got. Can't wait to have them wrapped around my cock. You love milking your daddy's cock dry with that mouth don't ya?” I simply nod and hum. I could feel the juices begin to drip down my leg as my pussy throbs. The gun is snatched away from my lips, leaving me empty. 

“Go on babygirl. Show your daddy some love.” He encourages, as I unzip his pants, wasting no time pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, the cool air in the room. “K puddin’.” Those were the last words that left my mouth before my luscious lips slid down his rock hard shaft. I could feel each vein on my tongue as he throbbed in my mouth. A relieved sigh passed his lips when he was welcomed by the warmth his babygirl provided him. His hips rolled in sync, one hand on my head, while the other was making sure the camera was capturing every single detail of himself thrusting into the girl’s mouth. A smile was plastered on his face, when he looked down to see his babygirl gagging on his dick, which hit the back of her throat as she took all of him in, precious inch by inch. “Such a good job babe. I'm so close. Keep that mouth opened wide, I’m about to give you some of that hot puddin’ you asked for.” The eyes watered while he continued to deep throat my mouth, and I loved every single second of it. Watching his lustful beat red face as his breaths grew rapid. 

“Fuck! Damn! Shit!” His hips finally came to halt, his balls touching chin, and the tip of my nose met his base. A ginormous load of his hot cum pooled into my mouth and rushed down my throat, overflowing and dripping down my chin along with my tears that streamed down my cheeks. 

“Swallow.” He commanded before slipping his cock out through my now swollen lips. I gladly swallowed the creamy cum, savoring the taste as it slid down my throat. “Open wide.” I proudly display my tongue out flat to him as he catches his breath. “That’s a good girl. You deserve a reward.” His thumb presses against my lip before motioning me to stand up. “Clothes off. On the bed. Now.” He demands sinisterly, causing a spark of excitement and anticipation to ignite. I waste no time to strip away from the costume, leaving me completely naked in front of the camera. I crawl onto the bed, making sure that my ass was in full view. JJ’s hand collides with one of my ass cheeks, erupting a loud smack across the room, making me giggle and yelp. I flip myself over on the bed, legs spread wide revealing my aching pussy that glistened in the light. JJ whistled and brought the camera close up. “Mm, look at this pussy. It’s just aching and throbbing for me, just begging me to plunge into it. But first I want to taste you babygirl. After all, you deserve it. You’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” His hot breath fans my pussy for only a few seconds before pulling away and making me whimper. 

He places the camera down once more and digs through his drawers until he finds what he’s looking for, that being a pair of Harley Quinn fuzzy hand cuffs. I bought in the store the other day as a gag gift, looks like we’ll finally be using it. He quickly cuffs my wrist to the bed restraining me, before placing a sweet loving kiss on my lips. “I love you, my sweet Harley Quinn.” He whispers against my swollen lips. “I love you too Mista J.” He flashed a genuine smile, before blinding me with his black bandana that was tied in the back. 

Once again, I could feel his hot breath fan my heat, making me antsy. But once again, he came to halt. “The fuck is this?” He asked genuinely confused, as was  I. It was then I remembered about the large quartz that was nestled deep within my precious flower, which was now probably barely staying intact. JJ dips his ring cladded fingers, scooping out the mysterious object, earning a whimper. JJ held the large rosy pink egg shaped object in his now juice covered fingers that glistened along with her pussy. “It’s a yoni egg.” She stated. 

(Wtf is a yoni egg you ask? Long story short, it’s a crystal carved into the shape of an egg, typically rose quartz or jade, and is placed in the girl's honey pot. There’s a lot of health benefits it provides that I'm not going to take the time explaining so...just look it up. You can find it on Etsy. Anyways, back to the story!) 

He simply hums, before licking the juices off the yoni egg and his fingers. “Did you miss daddy's cock so much that you filled yourself up with this?” My head nods furiously. “Yes! I miss you so much. Please daddy, I need you!” I begged. He silences me with a finger on my lip. “Patience babygirl. I’ll make sure to give a proper fucking. But for now, I wanna taste you.” He silenced me once more by stuffing my drenched panties in my mouth. “We don't want our friends hearing us, at least not yet.” I don't need the blindfold to know that he’s smirking. I’m caught off guard when I feel a sudden foreign object invade my walls and his hot tongue placed on my sensitive clit. My delightful moans are muffed by my own panties, that I taste myself on. My whole body squirms underneath him as he continues his sweet sexual torture on me. I then realized that it was the gun that my walls were clenching around as it moved in and out of me. I could already feel the knot form within me, tempted to unravel, but Mista J had other plans for his Harley Quinn. 

He stopped just before I was about cum, much to my dismay. JJ positions the camera to face both of them, unbinding the girl from the bed and removing her gag, before flipping her over. With no warning, he plunges himself into me, making me scream. My velvet pussy swallows each inch of his girthy cock with my silk like juices. Giving me no time to adjust, he takes a hold of my hips with both of his hands before pounding away. His skin slapped loudly against mine with each rough inevitable thrust. I knew that my pornographic moans shook the whole chateau, like our movement was shaking the whole bed, due to the animalistic thrusts, making the headboard pound against the wall. “That’s right baby. Don’t you dare hold back those moans. I want the everyone to know who's fucking you good. I want them to know that the Joker and Harley Quinn run the Outer Banks baby. 

All of it was too much. I couldn't find the words to tell him that I was about to cum, but I was already consumed by the euphoric sensation that washed over me like waves. My mind went completely blank, my ears began to rang. I didn't even hear JJ moan out load as he reached his climax, I could only feel his seed filling me up and gushing out my pink pussy. 

“Don't fall asleep on me now babygirl. We’re making a movie, and we’re only 12 minutes in. We still have about an hour left and I’m looking forward to fucking you senseless.” I just smile lustfully, ready for a round two.

“Okay Mista J.”

#jj maybank smut #jj x reader #jj x oc #jj maybank #jj #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx netflix #rudy pankow

[todomochi-uwu]

Babygirl. (2/?) Lingering feelings.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x reader

Warnings: Angst, Age difference

Author´s Note: ah shit here we go again, this once is a little bit heavier on the narrative so bear with me, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Tags: @afuckingunicornn​, @ikebukuro-ghoul​

"How can you move on so easily after everything we've been through? How can you give the love you used to give me to someone else?"

“Hello there Uraraka"

"Huh after giving you eight years of my life and a kid I would expect of you to at least call me by my name, let alone look me in the eye when I´m talking to you."

Katsuki sighed before turning around, "I'm sorry, okay? But after you call my girlfriend a child and tried to murder her with your looks all night I find it a little hard to be polite." He grunted.

"What are you playing trying to make me piss off by bringing her here? Common Katsu, I thought you were better than that?" She let out a small giggle while shaking her head in disbelief,

Katsuki shook his head and turned around, "Ochako, I know you are drunk right now, but please think about what you are saying."

"Where did you meet her? Is she one of your little groupies?" She leaned against the wall, looking at him, daring him.

"No, she's a published writer. She was writing a story and needed a little perspective on a case, she contacted me and I told her to fuck off, way too busy to deal with that kind of bullshit, but after her being stubborn and annoying the fuck out of me I had no choice but to help her. And here we are, she pulled me out of the void, I'm thankful for that."

"So, you are fucking the kid out of pity and thankfulness, wow Bakugou that's low even for you."

Now he was starting to get pissed off, "She's not my whore if that's what you think, she's my girlfriend. Besides, she's only five years younger than I am."

She came closer and looked up at him, "Eight. Fucking. Years. And all it took for you to move on and try and replace me is a fucking kid with puppy eyes who considers you good enough as a hero, tell me Katsuki is she better than me? Does she please you better than I do?"

"Ochako..." He warned her.

"I can't believe you would do this, I gave myself to you, I dedicated my life to you, loving you, comforting, supporting you. And all I get is a fucking lame ass apology and divorce papers."

"Don't you dare put the blame on me, we weren't happy you said it yourself."

"That doesn't give you the right to vanish me from your life. We have a fucking son Katsuki, don't you dare forget about him. How is he going to feel when he sees his father whoring around with a girl that might as well be his sister?"

"What the fuck are you even on about? I have never put my happiness before Rin's, Ochako and you know well I would never do something like that. Rin already knows her, he has accepted it; he knows she's not his mother, nor will she replaced you. What the hell is this even about?"

"How can you move on so easily after everything we've been through? How can you give the love you used to give me to someone else?" Her voice broke and heavy tears started running down her face, her fists punched against his chest, making him feel her desperation, her heartache.

"Ochako..."

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

Such a sad scene, both of them hadn't seen each other since the divorce, agreeing to split the custody of their child and never once talking about anything other than that. Katsuki would pick up Rin at Monday mornings, drive him to school and bring him back midday on Thursdays. Both heroes had drawn themselves at work so they didn´t have to think about the pain and the constant reminder that the love which once they thought would be eternal, no longer existed.

Bakugou would sometimes cry at night, hugging the pillows with the remaining of her scent, Uraraka would look at photos of their time together at U.A. and while they longed for each other, the truth was that love wasn´t enough to save their relationship.

One month turned into two, two into six, and before Katsuki knew it, it had already been a year and a half since they split up. The routine was the same every day, leave early for work, work until his body couldn't resist the pain and the fatigue. go home and repeat.

It wasn´t until one day you showed up into his office, demanding to talk to him, your editor and his secretary behind you trying to calm you down; Katsuki couldn't lie, you had caught his attention at that very moment, but he would never admit it, and even thou he denied your request every single time, you kept showing up every single day for a whole month without a fail. Tired and honestly, impressed with your persistence he accepted to help you.

And twice a week for three months, you showed up, a laptop in your purse and a leather journal in your hands full of questions and commentaries.  You asked about general procedures, specific cases he had done before, his experience as a hero, the disadvantages of being one, the pain, the sorrow, the deaths. Listening closely, not judging him or asking for things beyond his mental health and always respecting boundaries.

Little by little, while you made observations, Katsuki also started taking notes about you. The way you would scratch your neck and arms when getting anxious, your tongue sticking out when concentrating about small details, sipping up your coffee, even if the mug was empty, when you wanted to punch him in the face for being an egotistical asshole, and without even knowing, you had peaked his interest.

On the very last day of your research, he noticed you kept asking questions that wouldn´t help you, but that needed a lot of time to be answered, re-asking questions made long ago, he found himself answering them, why? He didn't want it to end, the thought of not seeing you every Tuesday and every Thursday waiting for him with a fresh cup of green tea in front of his desk would drive him crazy. And when the moment of saying goodbye came, he couldn't help it.

Taking your face between his very shaky hands, he kissed you with so much passion and fierce he could almost cry, this feeling was new, fresh and made him feel completely alive. He had fallen for you.

#bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki angst #bnha #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha angst #bnha x reader

[ginsspitting]

I just wanted to rant about yesterday’s (latest) episode, Episode 8 of Attack on Titan.

Spoliers. Obviously.

I wanted to address the issue of picking sides, Paradis or Marley. I don’t think the whole point of this is to pick sides. I will say, however, Marley has put Paradis through hell and back for years. Why can’t they understand that now they have to fight? Paradis is getting revenge. Eren is at least. Yes, innocent people have died. Countless casualties, debris, and more. But why are we ignoring the fact that this has been happening to Paradis for around a century? The whole “Yeah, but Eren’s killing innocent people.” Yes, he knows. I’m not one to say “As he should,” or support mass genocide. But Marley shouldve well known that this was bound to happen. I’m not going to watch a show for years and years, get emotionally attached to multiple characters, watch 75% of my comfort characters die ruthlessly to titans and to the hands of TWO OF MY OTHER COMFORT CHARACTERS, but then completely fold and bawl my eyes out for a bratty ass kid who thinks she’s invincible when her friends die. That’s idiotic. What has Marley done for you? All they’ve done is cause destruction and death.

Now. Discussing last episode, episode 8. Why the FUCK did Gabi think it was a good idea to LITERALLY GO ONTO THE ENEMY TRANSPORTATION ALONE? She didn’t think “Hey, maybe they’re guarding the door, maybe they’re going to beat the fuck out of me before I can even pull the trigger. Or simply just kick me off the blimp if I tried climbing on.” She calls herself the next Armored when she makes completely irrational decisions. Yeah. She’s just like Reiner. Except Reiner is clinically fucking depressed and I’m 99.99% sure he literally has bipolar disorder and/or split personality. I, amongst everyone, have the right to dislike a character for no apparent reason. I dislike Mina and Hagakure from My Hero Academia. No reason, I just don’t like them. Touka from Tokyo Ghoul, Mello from Death Note (even though he’s cute). I could list characters I don’t fucking like. That’s fine, we don’t have to like every character. But Gabi, I have a reason to hate Gabi. I don’t even want to get into her NAME. Not even pronounced “Gabby”. It’s “Gobby”. 😐 Anyway, she’s bratty. She’s a literal child and thinks she can wipe out a whole existing race with the single power of the Armor. She’s oblivious to the fact that she wants to become the Armored to literally destroy and kill people of Paradis. But when they strike back with revenge, they shit themselves wondering why. And she’s so mad she has to literally climb into the enemy blimp.

Concerning the fucking blimp door she walked through with no problem. The scouts know how to fucking kill titans, no hesitation. But uh, doors are the inevitable. CLOSE THE DOOR. Sasha heard a noise from the blimp. Instead of ignoring it after telling Jean, she could’ve (along with Jean) checked on wtf the noise was or closed the FUCKING DOOR. If they looked out the blimp, I’m sure they could’ve kicked Gabi off, EASY. She can’t hold a literal shottie (shotgun) and pull the trigger WHILE holding onto the blimp for dear life, let alone aim it. Yeah, yeah, Floch was making the scouts cheer. I don’t entirely blame him like everyone else is. They just lost around half their team but managed to successfully take Zeke or whatever the fuck their objective was. They took out every Titan. They were happy. And they don’t expect a fucking twelve year old to hop on the blimp like it’s her fucking Uber ride. If ANYTHING, I blame this on either Sasha or Jean. And seeing that Sasha is fucking dead now, I blame Jean. We all should know by now that Sasha had a gift of hearing, better than her comrades. Which is why she heard Gabi. It’s a great loss for Paradis to lose Miche/Mike, who could smell titans and Sasha who had great hearing. Tragic. I surprisingly didn’t cry at her death. Mostly because it was spoiled for me, but also because knowing that the creator or editor cried in the bathroom from Sasha dying in season one or two (can’t remember which, this was years ago) and Isayama having to let her live, I knew she was going to die sometime soon. I was, however, really affected by Connie’s reaction more than anything. That poor, poor boy.. I’m so sorry, Connie. RIP Sasha Braus.

I also have one question. Where the FUCK is Annie?

i am also simping for Porco.

#attack on titan season 4 #aot #aot anime #aot spoilers #sasha braus #Sasha #attack on titan #fuckgabi #porcokindacutengl #rant

[tropicalfreckles]

Beej?

Anon you’ve opened the floodgates you absolute fool(i’m kidding) OKAY, let me tell you all about what I like about the smelly trash man cause if it wasn’t obvious before with me not being so subtle I have a big crush and enjoy this stupid demon a lot (crush on musical beej specifically of course LAWL)

Why I Like them: OKAY IN ORDER, first movie Beetlejuice. I enjoy he’s a big sleazy asshole that has funny one-liners every time he actually just show up in the movie. He’s a fast-talking con man that acts like a used car salesman and he has a sleazy charm to him. I also enjoy watching Barbara school his ass every time I rewatch the movie, stan movie Barbara y’all she’s a babe and will take you down. I also like to thank Michael Keaton for his performance it was a great one and we all have movie Beej to thank for the other Beetlejuices we got!

Toon Beej! Adorable, a brat, a jerk, a man that would do anything to make a quick buck and he’s gross and such a petty shithead I love him lmao. He can be pure and adorable and nice when he wants to be even if he doesn’t like to show that he has a soft side. Also holy shit all his puns??? YES?? I LOVE PUNS. His jokes, his powers, everything about this middle aged dead ghoul is A+ and ya know what when karma does slap him that’s good too cause he does deserve to get taken down a peg some times lmao. Toon Beej is someone I’d happily be friends with.

now we get to my big ass crush on a stupid, smelly BASTARD OF A BUGMAN

Musical Juice. What don’t I like about him? Besides his dumb ass plan of a green card marriage lmao (I mean movie beej also sleazy af for doing that too). ANYWAYS. What I like. His stupid smile (both blum and brightman just WHY ARE THEY BOTH SO ATTRACTIVE AHHH), his unhinged pansexual disaster energy, who tf is letting this man do coke that is a terrible idea but it gives such hilarious results, the fact that he uses his humor with his trauma he needs to NOT call me out like that lol. I weirdly relate to Musicaljuice like a lot (as someone who struggles with trying not to be petty or get jealous and stuff like that), plus him feeling invisible and lonely also hit home really hard when people in middle school and high school would randomly just drop/ghost me out of the blue. He’s such a chaotic sleaze and I just enjoy his energy and his jokes so much. His dirty humor? Sign me up I keep it clean here folks cause I got another blog for dirty stuff but I like dirty humor when it’s done right lmao. Also dadbod. Dadbod is CHEF KISS. The little things I also enjoy. How he does have an affectionate side (him being just affection/touch starved also coming for the throat cause me too), the fact that he jumped to protect Lydia after she rightfully killed him and he even gave her his cowboy hat as a goodbye present. I thought it was nice of him to yeet out of there cause he did do a lot of bads lmao. I also love how excited he got and the chaotic sibling energy he had with Lydia when scaring. I just really, really enjoy musical Beetlejuice a lot guys.

Sorry I’m such a simp for him lmao

He is my emotional support bastard

Why I don’t: I honestly do not hate his character at all, but, I can criticize his actions. To a degree. I can’t exactly say (ex. Musicaljuice)“Oh no! a demon trying to kill Lydia’s friends and family?? How unexpected!!” he’s a demon he’s gonna do evil-ish things. Which is why I applaud Lydia taking matters into her own hands good kid 10/10. and like movie Juice is a bastard sleazy man of course he’s gonna have a shitty idea as to marry a teenage girl so he can freely do whatever he wants in the world of the living. He never in the final script showed any creepy shit towards her which god I am grateful for I don’t need someone perving on this teenager that’s already having a wild time in her new house. He’s a conman just trying to have a good time but goes about it by crappy means. The petty/jealousy thing can go too far some times (but I chalk that up to musicaljuice’s sad upringing along with not having an positive relationships that we know of in his life to support him) for musical and toon juice (toon juice once again I don’t think had any friends that really understood him when he was alive and when he died so he just does whatever he wants since people already think so little of him before he meets Lydia), however with the proper talking to I think both could improve from it. Like in an analysis way I know these guys are fictional just like character development thoughts. All three have said and or done some things ranging from like small shitty things to problematic obviously. Beetlejuice is a very complex character as a whole. Movie juice obviously not as developed since he’s barely in the film to kind of shroud him in more mystery but that doesn’t mean his motives aren’t intriguing. I don’t want to make this post longer than it already is so that’s just all of my thoughts summarized.

Favorite Episode (scene if Movie): Fav movie beej scene is hard.

His first time meeting the Maitlands, his charades with Lydia, then the ending scene are all so good.

Toon Beej I’m trying to think. Once again I’ve only rewatched like 20+ episodes for the cartoon so it’s hard to pick with limited options. Uhhhh I like the haunted attraction episode lmao also the creepy tree and how he went out of his way to help Lydia move her favorite tree and in the end tried saying something nice to the tree even though eh was annoyed with it the whole episode.

Musical juice that is HARD, Blum and Brightman just own every scene they’re in shit lawl. I really like the evil plan reveal during the séance. The whole being dead pt 1&2 (the guide reprise), say my name, his scenes with the maitlands.

Favorite season/movie: Skip

Favorite Line: NICE FUCKING MODEL!! *honkhonk* (pfft)

also like... everything beetlejuice says in the musical lmao “new phone who dis”

Favorite Outfit: HONESTLY I love every single outfit all three beetlejuices wear. I want the fucking guide hat so badly!!!

OTP: 

hahahaAAAHH ah. Well. Ya see here. Let’s go with the first options. Cause of a number of artists on here I’ve been pretty keen on the BeetlejuicexMiss Argentina ship for moviejuice tbh lmao. I like the idea they had an office fling. Musicaljuice and Miss Argentina sounds cute too.

I don’t actively go into the Beetlands tag but I do think the art and idea for it (after a lot of building up trust/consent/and talking) think it can be a super cute poly ship! I like.

I don’t really ship Toon Beej with anyone tbh.

so now into the self indulgent shit lmaaoo

I love people’s ocs/self inserts with the Bugman a lot and I myself super hardcore ship my oc Leilani and musicaljuice. I... maye have drawn self insert art I have no posted here out of being shy but it’s on another blog that will stay hidden lmao. I don’t normally post self insert stuff of myself cause man I can draw it easily for other people but when it comes to myself I am shy.

I mean I’m writing a fic for beej and lani as we speak and you all know by now if you’ve been following me for the past couple of months I’ve drawn a handful of doodles plus commissioned numbnutspo to draw my self indulgent ship lawl

BROTP: The obvious for toon and musicaljuice is Lydia Deetz of course. Chaos siblings. Also I have a BROTP of my demon oc Antares with musicaljuice too. Dumb demon bros.

Unpopular Opinion: TBH Idk if I have one. I like to think there’s a resounding hiss @ the ship that shall not be named lmao.

A Wish: Same wish I had for Lydia’s ask, I wanna see the musical live REAL BADLY. I also wish I could tell the cast/crew of the musical how much it has helped me get through this shitty year and how it legit just revived my passion for drawing again. I got to meet a lot of people through the musical and made some new friends. Plus I’m actually making money off my art now???

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I wanna forget that clean beetlejuice from that one episode of the cartoon exists lmao it scares me (I mean I wouldn’t object to musical juice to taking a fucking bath or brushing his teeth but let’s be real that ain’t happening)

5 words to best describe them: Bastard, Unhinged, Handsome, 1-Brain Cell, Huggable

My nickname for Them: I mean when I refer to him or write fics it’s always Beej, BJ, Bugman, Bug, Bastard Man, Smelly Trashman, Garbage Man, Lawrence, the list goes on lawl

and now I have aired out more of my stupid obsession with this dumb demon

edit: I FORGOT HEADCANONS

OKAY HEADCANONS. Musical juice is definitely the oldest of the three, (in dead terms too, in alive terms he was ony alive for like less than 3 minutes or something), I love musicaljuice pansexual/genderfluid so much. I have a bunch but my mind is like blank rn for the rest shit sorry but I added those in at least

also I like the funny headcanon toon juice is taller than keatlejuice and musicaljuice

I also like the headcanon for autistic beetlejuice (as someone who is also autistic)

#asks #long post #anon #beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice #asks game #Anonymous

[inumaqi]

top ten tagged by @linkspooky 🍊 explanations under the cut! sorry for rambling xo → rules: name your top ten favourite characters from ten different fandoms, and then tag ten people - @osomanga @kara-suno @anonimarevolts @zeninmaki @wildbishonen @shysheeperz @tkmewthyou @kaldurlenn @joxterism @marshmallowdonutsprinkles

snufkin okay so he’s the only one not from an anime or manga but i had to put him on bc he’s the most important fictional character to me, ever. i grew up watching the moomin cartoons in the 90s and thinking about it instantly calms me down - they used to air the episodes early in the morning when it would still be dark outside: the landscapes were moody and cosy, the characters were so softly spoken and articulate... it’s just peak nostalgia. anyway, snufkin is moomin’s best friend; he returns to moominvalley every year to be with his friends during the spring and says his goodbyes to go adventure again come winter. it upsets moomin when he leaves but snufkin is adamant that quiet and solitude are important and healthy, and it’s not fair to expect him to compromise on his independence - that made a really big impact on me as a kid, especially as someone who never really had their ‘own’ space (twinsies). relationships aren’t weakened by physical distance or time, they’re about communication and understanding. that was important too. i don’t think i realised just how influential it had been until i was an adult but snufkin is an anarchist. he first shows up in the comics when moomin and sniff are talking about opening a bank - he tells them they should plant fruit trees instead. he destroys private property and rescues orphans, he refuses to participate in things that don’t bring him joy. when he’s asked where home is, he replies, “nowhere. or everywhere! it depends how you look at it” - the whole world belongs to him, and the whole world belongs to everyone else too.

yomo renji in general, i like characters that trudge along in the background and do the nitty-gritty work that supports the main story. i like people like that irl too. more than anything else, yomo is desperate to form human connections, even though he’s shackled by self-doubt and self-loathing. he just wants to positively contribute to a community, thinking he’s most useful keeping a quiet eye on people who might need protection/guidance (while still giving them space to grow and act themselves) or foraging for human corpses so that others aren’t in danger or moral anguish doing it for themselves.

bird boy is a total weapon - “the perfect ghoul” - and you’re reminded over and over again but a lot of his growth is about rejecting violence and repurposing his power as something productive that he can use to help the people around him instead of hurting people (the yang to uta’s yin). in the first few chapters, he says he kills humans (he’s a ghoul, humans are food, it’s natural) and yet he’s consistently framed as a scavenger who seeks out ‘roadkill’ [suicide victims] for sustenance, even before coming to anteiku, and implements a system so other people can do the same.

suguru getou i was originally gonna say meg bc i love him but, having just finished The Flashback Arc, i can’t stop thinking about getou and i’m beyond impressed with how akutami has managed to ground him so well, so sympathetically. getou is the sick, warped darkness to the hopeful light that gojou commands but... in an uncomfortable twist, the reverse is true, kind of.

actually, gojou is arrogant and confrontational and hyper individualistic. he’s a dissident. getou is obedient, compassionate, self-aware... he has a sense of social responsibility and passionately believes that his skills should be used to protect those who can’t protect themselves - non-jujutsu sorcerers - and all of the suffering he endures as a result is worth that. idk if others are reading his downfall differently but, from where i’m standing, that overwhelming responsibility never goes away, he doesn’t give up on it - he just starts to view the social landscape differently and begins to see how jujutsu sorcerers are vilified and mistreated in spite of all the good that they do. the ‘weak’ aren’t really weak when they’re able to organise and assert collective power over a minority, and so his sympathies shift.

the nail in the coffin for getou is learning that the hurt and pain could be eradicted from the world by cutting the head of the proverbial snake: non-jujutsu users generate cursed energy, so get rid of non-jujutsu users and cursed energy won’t be generated. it’s all horribly, weirdly rooted in good intentions that weigh him down and misdirect him.  shinazugawa genya i feel like the bond that slowly starts to develop betwen tanjirou, and zenitsu and inosuke (in particular) is nicely foiled by genya’s lonely journey towards becoming a pillar. after losing almost all of his family and having sanemi walk away, genya is angry, antisocial, rude, violent, evasive...

he’s characterised as competitive, as if he hates his peers and wants to leave them in the dust as an act of self-satisfaction, a power fantasy or whenever, but this is a deliberate misdirection to cover for the fact that he’s scrambling to be a pillar so that he can reconnect with his brother and prove to him that he can protect himself; that sanemi doesn’t need to shoulder everything alone like he used to. his entire goal is an act of apology.

and in a story where so many characters are able to hone these exceptional skills, genya is uniquely disadvantaged as the only one who can’t master breathing techniques. rather than having a hero moment and powering up, his need to reconnect with sanemi is so strong that he essentially decides to compromise his humanity and become a kind of monster by ingesting the demons he’s pledged to annihilate. amajiki tamaki i wish i had a a longer explanation for this one but it’s actually super simple: tamaki is a really, really, really good portrayal of a person burdened with severe anxiety. the way he physically carries himself, the way he hides his face, his manner of speaking, his dependency on his mirio, how he interprets compliments as trickery, how he needs to be pushed and pushed and pushed before he’s finally able to release his potential... every single scene with tamaki felt deeply personal when i was reading bnha and i knew exactly what he was supposed to be feeling. shinmon benimaru sometimes good, nice people don’t fit a little friendly mould and i like that benimaru is hostile and rough and antisocial, even with people he cares about. he doesn’t expect anything of people, he doesn’t want them interfering with him, and he wants to help and support them all the same because he believes in community. he’s completely oppositional to the special fire force because he thinks it’s a tool to pursue an ideology rather than to protect people, which is why it’s so important when the eighth are finally able to win his approval - they become the only company the seventh consider allies, and it’s proof that their objectives are righteous. despite his reputation as... kind of a nuisance, his skill is acknowledged by everyone and he’s universally regarded as the strongest fire soldier there is. in spite of his antisocial attitude, he agrees that it’s important to share that with younger fire soldiers - he’s incredibly patient and understanding with them, helps them to individually adapt. the way he (and others in company seven) operate in contrast to the other companies when fighting infernals is really cool to me for two reasons: (1) it provides a commentary on how cultures and traditions often struggle to survive when they’re systematically (forcefully) replaced through power and wealth - although the subtext is a little troubling because it’s unclear whether ōkubo is conflating multiculturalism with globalisation which, uh, big nope; and (2) philosophically speaking, the approach to death is interesting. where the other companies essentially perform last rites and offer absolution to the deceased, benimaru personally takes responsibility - at the request of the people in his district - for sending them off in huge public display, kind of like a festival intending to celebrate their life. i think it speaks to how profoundly he values life. akihiko kaji i liked akihiko from the beginning because he’s stoic and introspective and also excitable and dumb. he’s a people watcher and waits for opportunities to softly guide uenoyama and mafuyu when they’re quietly crying out for help but doesn’t interfere any more than he thinks is necessary because he knows they can make their own way to where they need to go. i liked akihiko even more when he got really fucking messy. his relationship with ugetsu is sweet and it’s incredibly ugly and unhealthy because they both fail utterly to communicate with one another - they’re both to blame for avoiding and hurting each other, and i think that’s a really normal issue that people find difficult to overcome. i’m super interested (and really nervous) to see how his relationship with haruki develops. he’s done some horrible things to haruki and i want him to be accountable for those things and have them affect their relationship in a realistic way.

tanigaki genjirou one thing i really, really love about golden kamuy is the way noda satoru incorporates the importance of minority cultures into the story, and tanigaki’s apparent abandonment of his matagi heritage is really beautifully written. matagi hunting traditions shaped his life as a young man, it’s how he was able to really assimilate to the people around him and form relationships and - without getting too spoilery - he divorces himself from it all when he’s overcome by grief and hatches a plan for revenge against the person responsible. so, by allowing himself to surrender to negative feelings and thoughts instead of seeking support and learning to heal from what happened, he becomes a total shadow of himself. 

makimura takeshi i know i’ve gushed about it before but i can’t properly explain just how incredible it felt seeing an asexual character in manga dialogue about being asexual, and devils’ line does it twice. the reason i’m so attached to makimura in particular is because he doesn’t seem to have fully figured it out - and he’s kinda... comfortable with that. he wants to be with someone and he wants to be monogamous but he can’t understand why he doesn’t feel sexual desire towards her; he knows his feelings aren’t platonic but doesn’t know whether they can really be called romantic either.

not to go dark mode but i very vividly remember just how lonely and horrifying it was battling with those uncertainties when i was a teenager, thinking i was broken because i didn’t have Normal Human Feelings and needed to be fixed. i was so worried about it that i thought about all the boys i knew, picked the one i thought was the nicest and actively tried to develop a crush on him. it was dumb as fuck but, ten years later, i realise it was really desperate and sad too. i forced myself to have ~my first kiss~ (it was horrible) because i felt like i was getting left behind and i think i would’ve put myself in worse situations as i got older if i hadn’t suffered with such bad social anxiety.

i hadn’t really thought too much about a lot of this stuff for yeaaars but it all came flooding back when i was reading devils’ line. it was bittersweet bc i was remembering all of those shitty feelings but also watching this character grapple with those same questions and go: i don’t know yet and that’s not weird, let’s just grow with it. i still don’t totally know whether i’m ace or aro or bi, or whatever, but i’m trying to be okay with just... not knowing.

misora shuuji anyway, devils’ line isn’t actually a manga with a specific focus on sexuality and gender but shimanami tasogare is and all of the characters are written beautifully. if you haven’t read it yet... then why haven’t you read it yet? misora is only about twelve years old and watching them battle with their growing pains is really compelling - they’re closeted but, through the lounge, they have somewhere to explore their gender and all the questions they have about it. they’re amab and present as traditionally feminine wrt clothes, wigs, makeup, etc. but can’t quite tell if they see themselves as a girl, a boy or non-binary.

with the onset of puberty and anxieties about physical changes to their body, misora’s story puts a lot of emphasis on the pressure they face to just ‘make up their mind’ about something that’s actually incredibly complex and doesn’t have any easy answers. they snap and shout and get upset, especially when tasuku (the protag) tries to push them into a corner because he wants a concrete label or identity he can attach to misora, even though space is exactly what misora needs.

#jujutsu kaisen #given #kimetsu no yaiba #boku no hero academia #enen no shouboutai #tokyo ghoul #shimanami tasogare #devils' line #golden kamuy #moomins #mine*edit

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Hey fuckers! So I wrote this all today and liked it enough to post, please enjoy this minimally edited mess of a fic! But read the warnings carefully!! You also may want to read the other fics in the series to understand this? But it's not super necessary. (First three fics here, here, and here, mind the warnings.) Also shoutout to @wishiwasthemoon-tonight for encouraging my angsty bullshit, for this fic and many, many others.

Title: the last thing i see

Wordcount: 1734

Summary: Cherri Cola has died before.

It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.

Warnings: blood, violence, major character death, implied self harm, referenced suicide and suicidal thoughts, and a fuckton of swearing as usual. (How did I fit that all in less than 2k words? Talent.)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Cherri Cola has died before. 

He remembers what it was like, his breaths growing more difficult as the hot sand burnt his skin and everything hurt-hurt-hurt. He remembers how cold the darkness felt, the oblivion it promised. He remembers fighting against it, remembers the fear and the pain and the voice in his head screaming ‘I don’t want to die alone’. The helplessness, he remembers, too, his arms aching from the cuts he put there himself and the way he had forced them to try and drag his weight. Helpless and alone, and scared. He knows what it’s like to die in the desert.

Cherri Cola has died before.

It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.

The Girl leaves him by the water cooler, saying she’s going to Dr. D’s for the night. He doesn’t believe her, not after her words at the concert, but Cherri Cola is wise enough to know that he has to let her go. Much as he would like to hold her and protect her forever, he’s already failed to do that when she really needed it. So all he can do now is support her in what choices she makes and not think about how he’s failing to protect her like he failed to protect the killjoys who died to save her.

She doesn’t come back, and Cherri knows he’s already failed. He leaves to help her anyways, that day, when the dreadful news comes that mom and dad are coming home at last. It’s broadcast on every radio station, a cry, a call, a desperate scream for help. 

For the first time in over ten long years, Cherri picks up a ray gun, the weight familiar in his hands. He flicks the safety off, ready to shoot, and flips the switch from stun to kill. Although it takes precious moments he can barely afford to waste, he takes the time to fire a few practice shots before he tucks it away in the holster. He can’t afford for his skill to be compromised at all for this mission- a single slip could cost the lives of many of the young ‘joys of the desert, hardly more than children. So once his ray gun is ready to fire, he pulls on his mask. Die with your mask on if you've got to, just as Dr. Death Defying said all those years ago.

He will die with his mask on, that day.

Cherri arrives to chaos, and he doesn’t hesitate a second before jumping into the fight. Within moments, he can see Motorbaby crouched, looking like she’s been hit by a stun shot as a Draculoid stands over her. There’s not a single second to think, so he doesn’t. He just acts, taking down the drac with a single well-placed shot. Cherri ignores the stares of the ‘joys around him, every ounce of his focus on the Girl.

“Cola?” Her voice is weak, but it’s present, and he breathes a tiny sigh of relief.

“I’ll take care of this.” He’s failed her so many times, he won’t fail her this time.

“Cola, Val killed D. I didn’t get there in time to stop him, I-“ Cherri’s heart breaks at the anguish in her voice as she steadies and goes on. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s more than okay; it’s his fault, really, but he doesn’t have the time or the words to express that. “Dr. Death Defying will be with our other friends soon. Now stay down!” 

It’s all the reassurance he has time to provide her as plasma bolts shoot past his head. Drac after drac falls to his ray gun, as easily as ever. Killing comes far too easily to him, or did. Now, it’s not quite the same, but he soothes the guilt that rises to choke him with whispers of ‘it’s for Motorbaby’. 

And he hardly has time to think, hardly time to breathe, before the Girl is trying to warn him. “Cola…behind you…”

There isn’t a second to move or dodge as a bolt hits him squarely in the back, and he knows he’s dead. Out of all the ways that he could have died, this one hasn’t been in his head for a long time, now. In his earlier days, in the Analog Wars, ‘in a fire fight’ would be a probable way for him to die, one he thought about often enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised. But by now, he’s been thinking he’ll fall at his own hands, not a scarecrow’s, for long enough that he’s still surprised as he topples to the ground. 

Dying in a firefight is nothing like the ways he’s died before. It hurts, of course it does, but in the detached way that means he’s already dead or close to that. It’s not a slow, painful death, it’s quick and fiery. Pain arcs through him, and he’s dead before he hits the ground. And despite the hint of surprise, he knows that he was never going to survive this fight. Like the Fabulous Four before him, he knew he would die for the Girl.

Cherri Cola dies, and he does not regret it.

The only thing he regrets now is that he can’t be there for the Girl as she stands up- or, rather, her spirit does. The Phoenix Witch scooped his mask off his face, and so Cherri is there too, but she keeps a firm grasp on his soul. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say, to the Girl his friends loved so and he loved just as much. They are not in the spirit world, nor even the borderlands, and Cherri is helpless once again. Helpless to speak, helpless to comfort her, helpless to resist as the Phoenix Witch sweeps away with him and countless other souls.

This time, there’s no Newsie to save him. She fell some three years back, and Cherri was not brave enough to quest into the Phoenix Witch’s domain as she did for him. Newsie wouldn’t have been able to save him anyways, he knows. This was his last chance, the Phoenix Witch told him oh-so-many years ago. His last shot at life, granted to him by the love of his sibling.

There may be no Newsie to save him, but when the Phoenix Witch crosses the last boundary of the borderlands where he once stood, there is a Newsie to welcome him. 

They laugh, presumably at his stunned face, running over to give him a tight hug with a “Finally, fucker!” 

“Newsie? Newsie, I’m sorry-“

“Why the fuck are you apologizing? You’re finally fucking here!” Newsie freezes. “Cherri, you didn’t-“

“I died fighting Better Living Industries,” he promises.

“Oh thank fuck. How is it out there?”

“Bad, Newsie, it’s bad. Motorbaby is alive, which is a ray of hope, but some asshole named Val killed D-“

“Oh, yeah, we know. He showed up and immediately started giving Pone shit for making the afterlife glittery.”

“I don’t understand it!” Dr. Death Defying is there, all of the sudden, looking quite distressed. “How do you even make the spirit world glittery?”

“Ey’s Pony, D.” Cherri can’t help but smile. “Ey can’t just not glitter-ify places.”

“That’s because I’m the gayest Pony in the desert!” Show Pony flashes him a smile as ey skates up.

“Sure are, Pone,” Cherri says softly.

Next is Hot Chimp, grinning as she gives him a small wave. “Hey, brother-in-law.”

“Hey, sister-in-law. Nice to see you again."

And finally, four familiar figures who he hasn’t seen in far too long step out, looking exactly how he last saw them but minus the grim determination. Instead, Party Poison is grinning as Kobra Kid gives him a small nod, and Jet Star’s gentle smile is just as wide as Fun Ghoul’s toothy grin.

“I’m sorry,” Cherri tells them.

“We forgive you,” Poison says with surprising gentleness. “We never resented you much to begin with, even if you are an insufferable bastard. We’d never ask you to die for us.”

"I would have." It's important that they know that; he never go to tell them when they were alive.

"We knew that." Poison cracks a small grin. “Pepsi.”

Cherri isn’t even sure if ghosts can cry, but they must be able to because his cheeks are wet and words suddenly seem very difficult as he takes a few shuddering breaths.

“Oh Witch, I think I broke Pepsi,” Poison mutters. 

Newsie flips them off and gives Cherri a playful glare. “Come on, don’t start crying now, asshole! We’re finally all here, or mostly, anyways!”

That only makes him cry harder, burying his face in his hands just as he did the day the Fabulous Four died. It's been a long time since he's cried like this, utterly vulnerable but happy for once, a bittersweet cry as opposed to one of sheer pain.

As it turns out, ghosts can’t only cry, but also hug, and Cherri finds himself wrapped in so many sets of arms he can’t even tell whose are whose. He thinks it’s Newsie’s shoulder that his face ends up buried in, is pretty sure that the hands rubbing his back are Jet’s, but he really doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter, in the end, because he’s here with his family and that’s all that really matters.

Later, they’ll trade tales of what happened while they were all apart and Cherri will tell the Fabulous Four everything about the Girl he can remember, from her cat to the fight with the exterminators. He’ll pretend not to notice Poison sniffling or how choked Ghoul’s voice is, and they’ll pretend not to notice how his voice breaks when he talks about the day they died.

Newsie and Hot Chimp will update him on all the ‘tea’ of the land of the dead and how Newsie almost punched the Phoenix Witch, and D will give him a surprisingly (given the fact  that they’re both dead) warm hug, and promise that it’s not his fault for failing to stop Val. And of course, Show Pony won't let him get away without a little bit of shittalking his fashion sense and catching up on what's happened since eir death.

But all of that will come later. For now, Cherri’s family holds him tightly, and that’s all Cherri needs.

#cherri cola #the girl #ttlofk #auri writes #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #newsagogo

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Fallout of Darkness -- Another Meme

I unfortunately don’t recall where I got this one, though I do remember picking it up in the #fallout 4 tag -- I think a number of people were using it for their Sole Survivors. Which is what I did! With the added twist of “let me do this universe’s Alice as well!” So you get double the information for the same price! :P

Note: This is vaguely set I’d say about halfway through the plot of Fallout 4 -- Victor and Alice have had the run-in with Ug-Qualtoth and gotten Alice sunlight immunity (see this post for more details), and they’ve met at least most of the other companions. Also yes, pets -- Victor does indeed adopt the “wounded dog” encounter in my verse! (And if anyone knows of a mod that lets you send her to a settlement for real. . .) Please remember I haven’t actually played much of the main plot myself, so things may be a little vague/prone to changing once I get further in!

name ➔

V: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort – my mother wanted me to have an "aristocratic" middle name, for some reason.

A: Alice Pleasance Liddell – yes, just like the historical Alice. I guess after Lizzie decided I should be "Alice," my parents decided to go whole hog with the reference.

are you single ➔

V: [with a warm look at Alice] No, I'm not.

A: [with a warm look back] Not anymore.

are you happy ➔

V: [still with that warm look at Alice] Very much so.

A: [smiling] A lot happier than I was in the past, that's for sure. Which is kind of sad, given it's post the nuclear apocalypse now. . .

are you angry ➔

V: [thoughtful] I – I was for a while. Not so much anymore – the worst of it has cooled. But – there's some things I think I'll always be angry about.

A: I think my answer's about the same. Given some of the nonsense we've been through, some low-level anger is just to be expected, honestly.

are your parents still married ➔

V: . . .they were when the bombs dropped.

A: Mine were when that bastard Bumby set our house on fire to cover up what he'd done to my sister.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔

V: Burtonsville – it's a tiny village in England. I don't actually remember it, though – my parents moved to Boston when I was only about a year and a half old. I grew up here in Boston and the surrounding area.

A: Oxford, England – my father was the Dean of Christ Church at the college when he was alive. I have fond memories, but I haven't been back since the fire.

hair color ➔

V: Black. Mother occasionally insisted it was dark brown, but – black.

A: Black, though weirdly I actually was almost a redhead as a child. It darkened straight through brown to this as I grew up. I've never been sure why it got so dark, though I suspect all that time lying in Rutledge, getting probably-inadequate nutrition and light for a growing girl, didn't help matters.

eye color ➔

V: Dark brown.

A: Green, though Victor likes being poetic with descriptions like "emerald fire" sometimes.

mood ➔

V: . . .er – generally anxious? Trying to be helpful regardless?

A: Sarcastic? To hide that I'm more worried than I let on?

gender ➔

V: Male, he/him.

A: Female, she/her.

summer or winter ➔

V: Summer – I'm not a fan of the cold. Though spring's my actual favorite season – I love seeing everything come back to life.

A: I feel like I should like winter more, because of the longer nights, but now that we've actually fixed the sunlight issue. . .yes, summer. I'm not really a fan of the cold either.

morning or afternoon ➔

V: Afternoon – I've never been that much of a morning person, and mornings tend to be – stressful in the Commonwealth.

A: To be fair, so are the afternoons, but – yes, generally you're not dealing with threats still wiping the sleep from your eyes in said afternoons. And in my case, they're closer to night, which is still the time when I feel most myself, so. . .

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔

V: [exchanging a very warm look with Alice] Yes.

A: [giving it right back] Very much so.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔

V: Maybe not true love, but attraction? A sense of connection, kinship? Certainly – that's how I felt when I first met Victoria, and later Emily.

A: I can get behind that – my mother said she felt a pull toward my father when they first met. . .but I don't think love at first sight exists. You need to get to know someone – form a solid bond first.

who ended your last relationship ➔

V: [darkly cheerful] The American and Chinese governments, throwing nuclear missiles at each other! [sighing] No, that’s not quite fair – yes, they drove us into Vault 111, but the ones who actually murdered my wife and girlfriend were Kellogg and the Institute. The former more obviously than the latter, but. . . [voice cracks] Damn it, what was wrong with putting everyone's life support back on. . .

A: [puts a comforting hand on his arm] In my case, I never really had a romantic relationship before – even friendships were kind of fleeting, or long-distance. I've gone along with flirtations in the past to get meals, sure, but none of those ever turned into relationships. The closest I had was – well, Heather getting blood-bonded to me, which I didn't even mean to do. I was just trying to help her, and I didn't realize at the time. . . [bites her lip] I ended that – sent her away before she could get hurt by my enemies, explaining that what would make me happiest would be for her to be with her grandmother and stay in college. I wanted to go back and maybe try to help her some more once I was done with LaCroix's bullshit, but then. . .I hope she had a good life, in the end.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔

V: Not knowingly – goodness, what started off my, Victoria, and Emily's threesome relationship was an attempt not to break anyone's heart! It worked out very well, until. . . [shakes his head]

A: [squeezes his arm gently] I probably broke Heather's heart by sending her away – she looked so sad as she walked out the door. But it was for the best – I dread to think what would have happened to her if the Sabbat had realized I had a ghoul! Other than that – depends on if anyone I've drunk from was hoping for more than just a "quickie." I doubt that, though.

are you afraid of commitments ➔

V: I'm afraid of them being forced on me because of people randomly promoting me every time I even get close to an organization. [sighing, reaching up to fiddle with a chain around his neck] But – maybe a little. Seeing – seeing your wife get shot in front of you. . .then your girlfriend's half-rotted corpse beside her. . .it sticks with you.

A: [nods] Being the only survivor of the house fire that killed your family sticks with you too. As does two of the most prominent men in your life being the bastard who killed them and was trying to wipe your mind, and the bastard who killed you and turned you into a bloodsucker. Add in my own rather unromantic nature, and – yes, I did pretty much avoid commitments for a while. [smiles at Victor] I think I'm a little better about it now, though.

have you hugged someone in the last week ➔

V: Oh, yes – Preston and Piper just the other day, in fact!

A: I'm not usually much of one for being touched, so I don't hug much. . . [thinks for a moment, then hugs Victor] But I'll happily make the answer a "yes" in this case.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔

V: Does the brief period of time where Emily was crushing on me before Victoria noticed and decided to let her and me know it was okay if we wanted to date too count? Otherwise, I really don't think so. I wasn't popular with girls before meeting Victoria.

A: Bumby never made it clear whether he wanted to just turn me into a prostitute or fuck me himself as well, but I wouldn't count him anyway, because he was a horrible waste of flesh. So I have no idea – don't think so. Heather was – very open about her admiration.

have you ever broken your own heart ➔

V: Again, what happened between me, Victoria, and Emily was an attempt to avoid that. . .I can't say I have. It seems like others always break it for me.

A: Sending Heather away did hurt me a bit – not in the same way it hurt her, but it was nice to have someone else around the haven. . . [looks up at Victor] And I did resist romance initially here. Fortunately tall, dark, and handsome here didn't let me break my own heart.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔

V: Love, definitely. [going pink] I mean, lust can be nice, but. . .

A: Love – even alive, I wasn't particularly interested in sex. And as a vampire, any urges that way now go toward sucking on people's necks. Which I guess is sex-adjacent, but still. . . Maybe "love" for serious relationships, "lust" for getting a meal.

lemonade or iced tea ➔

V: Oh, I haven't had either in ages. . .and I recall needing a lot of sugar for both to enjoy them. . .I guess lemonade. I think I had that more often.

A: Literally can't drink either these days, for multiple reasons. . .but I'm going with lemonade because I have fonder memories of that. And – hmmm. I wonder if it’s possible to make a variation with that “plasma fruit” Ted came up with at Wildwood Cemetery. . .

cats or dogs ➔

V: Dogs! I had a dog growing up, Scraps, who was my best friend! And Victoria, Emily, and I were going to get a dog shortly after. . . [pause, shakes head] And now I have Dogmeat and Mutt! They’re a good pair.

A: Cats! My best friends growing up were the family cat, Dinah, and her two kittens, Snowdrop and Kitty. Being a vampire does tend to make animals rather mistrustful of me, sadly, but I had some luck feeding ferals pre-War. And we managed to trap a cat recently who didn’t immediately try to claw me and run away – I’ve named her Kit-Kat.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔

V: A few best friends – I'm n-not good with lots of people, and I just. . .I'm always so awkward, s-socially. I'd rather have a couple of people I know I can trust.

A: The same – I don't trust easily, after all the bullshit I've been through. Give me a small circle of people I know have my back over a larger group of more casual friends any day.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔

V: Romantic night in. I'm not much for parties. I like staying home with the people I love and just – being together.

A: Sort of like "love or lust" above, this kind of depends. I like a romantic night in for any actual relationships, but I did my fair share of clubbing to find someone to drink from back in the day.

day or night ➔

V: Well, I do like a good sunny day, but. . . [looking at Alice] I've really come to appreciate the nights in the Commonwealth. And not just because of the stars.

A: [smirking at him] Flatterer. . .but yes, night. For the longest time, it was the only time of day I could be out in. . .and even though it's wonderful now to be able to go out during the day and enjoy that, night is still when I feel most myself.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔

Victor: No, but that's because I never did. I grew up in the middle of a plague – I didn't have much incentive to sneak out! It took until I was fourteen for cases to drop enough in our part of Boston for my parents to be comfortable sending me to a school with other children, and by then I was so used to staying at home, sneaking out never occurred to me.

Alice: Oh god, yes, the New Plague, that was horrific. . .on my end, yes, I was. I tried to sneak out a couple of times as a small child to have adventures in the garden late at night or in the middle of storms. . .if my parents didn't catch me, though, my older sister did. I think I only actually got outside once, and even then it was only for a couple of minutes before Lizzie caught up with me. Mostly because she was trying to sneak out too, and didn't want her little sister tagging along.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔

Victor: . . .yes. To both. I – I can be pretty clumsy if I'm n-not paying attention to where I'm going.

Alice: [giving him an odd look] I've fallen down stairs – rushing around as a child on imaginary adventures – but never up. I'm – not entirely sure how you manage that.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt ➔

V: [tugging at the chain around his neck again, which is revealed to have a blue butterfly pendant and a gold wedding ring strung on it] Yes. Something I can't have, I'm sad to say.

A: [playing with her own necklace, which is an old iron key shaped like the symbol for Venus] Same here. I'd like to think your Victoria and Emily and my parents and Lizzie are in the same place, at least.

wanted to disappear ➔

V: Oh, plenty of times. I have an unfortunate knack for saying the wrong thing and then wishing I could melt into the floor. And – well, I suppose every time I've been hiding from enemies and wanted to just turn invisible counts. . .

A: I wanted to disappear in the asylum a couple of times, in the sense of 'just stop existing.' Survivor's guilt does a number on your brain, let me tell you. . .though I can actually disappear these days, thanks to Obfuscate! Though, annoyingly, I genuinely can't do it if someone's looking.

smile or eyes ➔

V: Oh, back to these? [thoughtful] I – honestly, I think eyes. Victoria and Emily's eyes are one of the things I remember best about them. . . [smiles at Alice] And my current paramour has some of the most beautiful eyes in the Commonwealth.

A: You're going to make me blush despite being dead if you keep on like that. Though, what's good for the goose is good for the gander – while I like your eyes, it's your smile that really warms my undead heart.

shorter or taller ➔

V: Um – shorter out of necessity. I haven't met many women who are six-foot-three.

A: Similarly, I'm five-foot-five, so I kind of have to go taller.

intelligence or attraction ➔

V: . . .I assume this means intelligence or looks, and – I can't deny I like a pretty face, but the main reason I got together with the women I did is because I could hold a good conversation with them. Intelligence.

A: My attraction seems to be based on actually getting to know a person, and I don't suffer fools gladly. Intelligence all the way.

hook-up or relationship ➔

V: Oh, relationship. I never had a hook-up. I can't – I can't just do the "one night stand" thing. I need something a little more.

A: Another one where my actual feelings versus how I'd act to get a meal clash – though admittedly, I never had a "proper" hook-up. I'd just get someone in a quiet spot, suck a bit of blood, and let them get on with their lives. But now that things are better, I'm only too happy to commit myself to a real relationship.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔

V: Well, it’s something of a moot point now, but. . . [he waggles a hand, making a face] I have to admit, I never liked my parents much. They weren’t very “hands-on” in raising me, and I often felt like they considered me a burden. Or a bargaining chip for social status. I did my best not to rock the boat just because upsetting my mother never ended well, but. . . [sigh] It wasn’t good.

A: By contrast, I had a perfectly lovely family life – my parents were kind and encouraged my sister and I in our various pursuits, and Lizzie. . .she was the best older sister a girl could have. I felt like I could tell her anything, and even if the age difference made playing together difficult, she did try whenever she had a spare moment. The reason I have such an “enthusiastic” imagination is because Mama, Papa, and Lizzie never tried to stifle it. I was – I felt so loved and happy the first eight years of my life. . .and then Bumby took it all away. [she looks away] I – it’s not fair.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔

V: [completely deadpan] I was frozen at the age of 27 in a vault designed to store people long-term for unknown reasons, and was finally thawed 210 years later, to find my wife and girlfriend dead, my son kidnapped, and the world above having been turned into a wasteland of vicious wildlife, super mutants, and raiders. With parts of it still irradiated because people are STILL launching small nuclear missiles at each other. Also the people who kidnapped my son can apparently make synthetic humans and use them as spies. And in the middle of all this, I’ve somehow ended up the leader of a bunch of little farms and such that composes a ragtag peacekeeping force that is still better than the actual assholes in power armor who have moved in. You tell me.

A: I can top that – turned into a vampire at age 20 after moving to Los Angeles to make sure I was far away from a murder I’d committed, then ended up roaming the world after a literally-explosive end to my time there as everyone’s errand boy. Was in Boston when the bombs dropped and got staked when my hidey-hole collapsed in on me, meaning I too got essentially “frozen” for 210 years, until a raider attacking this fellow here yanked the stake out and I responded by sucking him dry. Leaving me in a post-nuclear apocalypse trying to survive in a world where anyone’s blood might be at least slightly radioactive. Also we discovered that vampires are in fact the result of a little bit of some Lovecraftian horror worshiped by the people over at Dunwich Borers leaking into our world and infecting our souls. So that’s fun.

have you ever run away from home ➔

V: No – again, grew up in a plague, never really wanted to leave the house because of it.

A: I threatened to, once or twice, when upset, but I never followed through. Though I guess my moving to California could be construed as a kind of running away after I killed Bumby. . .but I never thought of Houndsditch as home. Same with Los Angeles, after I left there in the wake of that mess with LaCroix.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔

V: No, though – sometimes I thought my mother was thinking about it. Whenever my social awkwardness reared its ugly head at one of her parties.

A: My parents were never the sort to do that, and Bumby of course wanted me close at Houndsditch. And I left polite vampire society on my own terms after LaCroix.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔

V: . . .I’m not entirely sure how to classify my relationship with Strong. But I know he thinks more highly of me than I do of him. I – I try to be understanding, but it gets very tiring to listen to him go on about how one day Super Mutants will kill everything.

A: I had to be a lot friendlier to a lot people back in Los Angeles than I would have liked. . .but I don’t think any of them were laboring under the delusion we were actual friends. So no – if I don’t like you, I don’t hide it.

who is your best friend ➔

V: Alice, Preston, and Piper, definitely – they’re the ones I’ve traveled the most with, shared the most with, and just – feel the most comfortable around. [smiles] Oh, and Dogmeat of course.

A: Victor’s definitely my best friend – and frankly, I feel pretty close to Piper and Preston myself. They’re good people. [she smirks] Though Hancock and Nick are definitely the best people to snark with.

who knows everything about you ➔

V: Probably most of the people in the Commonwealth, I’ve had to explain about being frozen and what happened to my son a lot. . .more seriously, I’d say the above three. They’re the people I’m closest to, and the ones I’m most comfortable sharing information with.

A: I don’t know about everything, but – yes, Victor. And probably Piper knows the most after him, given she wanted to interview me for her paper.

#memes #fallout of darkness #tell me where to find shelter #(keeping that old tag for ease of use for the moment) #fallout 4 #vtmb #hopefully this isn't too confusing for everyone #Ted is supposed to be the Tremere living at Wildwood Cemetery along with the other 'rejected Bloodlines Protagonists' #and yes he made Plasma Fruit #because if I'm going all in with this crossover I will go ALL IN #I have a nasty feeling living through coronavirus is going to inspire me whenever I have to write about Fallout's various diseases #also its government #also yes Victor's opinion on Strong is my own #dude I'm trying to like you buuut #Piper and Preston are my current fave companions #but please remember I am kinda stuck in early days in the game itself #we'll see how things evolve as I take on other companions! #however Ada will be respected around here among the robots #she deserves better #queued

[katehuntington]

Title: November 2nd Author: Kate Huntington Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: Season 8/9 (before Mary comes back) Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader. (Sam, Castiel, John, and Mary mentioned) Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warnings: Angst, grief over loss of family, fluff, sad!Dean Word Count: 2276 words Summary: The 2nd day of November, the day Dean’s mother died, is always a tough one to get through. This time however, Y/N is by his side to offer him support. Author’s note: This is a sad oneshot, people. But on this day, November 2nd, the day when it all started, it’s more than fitting. Beta’d by @winchest09 & @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

     The two on the display of the alarm clock flicks into a three as minutes slowly pass. 8.03 PM, it's almost time. Troubled, Dean lets the air escape from his lips and returns his gaze to the ceiling of the bunker. He hoped that after an exhausting hunt like the last, he’d be asleep by now. 

     It took the hunters four days to track down a ghoul in Savage, Mississippi. Add a fourteen hour drive back home to that and you’d think he’d be out like a light before even reaching his bed. Unfortunately, it’s quite the opposite and he wishes they had run into another job on the way over to Lebanon, so that at least his mind would be occupied. But with no new cases lined up, he remains lying on his back motionless, sheets pulled up to his chest, one hand behind his head. 

His jaw clenches as he thinks of the tragedy that struck so many years ago. After all that time it should be easier, right? It should be less hard to deal with days like these, time heals all wounds after all. But not this one. This wound is the foundation of all his illnesses, of all his problems, of his life.

He removes his hand from behind his head and settles back into his pillow, running his fingers through his hair. Again he glances aside at the neon numbers that tell the time. 8.08 PM now. He squirms a little, annoyed by the space he has all by himself. The bed is much cooler than usual, it seems bigger too. It’s because Y/N is missing from it. 

     He had withdrawn into his room a couple of hours ago and failed to invite her to come with him like he usually does. Now that he thinks of it, he has been giving her the cold shoulder for at least a week, so no wonder that she didn’t follow him to his chamber. Why does he do that? Why does he push everyone away who cares about him whenever life gets hard? He didn’t mean to ignore her on the ride home, he didn’t mean to snap when she adjusted the heater on the dashboard when she got cold. He didn’t mean to shove her hand away when she comfortingly laid it on his leg as a sign of support. Yet he did and he feels like an absolute dick. She is only trying to be there for him, to be the supporting girlfriend. But he can’t have it, he can’t accept it. If she witnesses how broken he truly is, why would she possibly want to stay with him? And yet treating her like dirt isn’t exactly delivering the message that he wants her with him either. Shit, he’s such an idiot. 

     Then the timepiece on the nightstand changes again, hitting 8.11 PM. His eyes linger at the display and he swallows back the lump that started to build in his throat. Eleven past eight, the moment the clock in Sammy’s nursery stopped ticking. The moment Azazel set foot in that room and fucked it all up.       Dean averts his gaze away again and shuts his eyes. Four years old at the time, but he remembers so many details. He remembers the intense heat from the fire, his mother’s horrifying screams, the smell of burning flesh, his father handing baby Sam to him. 

     Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back! Now, Dean! Go! 

     That’s when his mission started, that’s when the four year old grew into an adult. That moment right there changed everything. That moment when his mother died. 

     Soft creaking of the door interrupts his vivid memories and when he opens his eyes he sees Y/N, peeking inside his room.      “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she excuses herself timidly. “Just wanted to check in.”      “It’s okay,” Dean replies, voice raspy.      “I’ll get my stuff.”      Almost shameful, she moves into the bedroom and picks up her duffle bag, but Dean stops her.      “Where are you going?”      His questioning eyes are softer than they have been for the last couple of days. For the first time this week he seems genuinely worried about her and she ceases her actions.      “I can take a hint, Dean,” she returns, fiddling with the handles of the bag. “Look, if you wanna end this, I get it. I'll move out.”      “What? No!” He sits up, regretting every action or word that made her feel unwanted. “C’mere.”

     He can see that she has been longing for his invitation. Despite her efforts to hide it, tears shimmer in her eyes and it’s only now that Dean gets how scared she was. It couldn’t possibly be that she thought that he was going to break up with her, right? Insecure, Y/N moves closer and sits down on the edge of the bed. Bruising has started to surface on her right jaw, visible signs of the fight she had with the ghoul. He didn’t even ask her if she was alright.

     “I’m such an asshat,” Dean muddles, realizing the effects of his behavior as he grabs her hand and squeezes it softly.      His eyes meet hers and beg for forgiveness, but that’s not what she’s after. All she wants is to understand what is going on in that mind of his, why he’s building this Berlin Wall around himself.      “It’s alright,” she assures, glancing down at their locked hands as she moves her fingers over his battered knuckles softly. “Just… Please explain to me what’s wrong. If I did something to upset you, then I--”      “You didn’t,” he promises, trying to soothe her by gently cupping her face. “You think I’m acting this way because of you?”      She shrugs as her bottom lip begins to tremble. Unable to prevent her eyes from welling up, a single tear comes down her cheek, Dean wiping it away when it reaches his thumb. 

     To her, the signs were clear, though. He pushed her off, declined any affection and refused to talk to her. Maybe after being together for five months he got bored with her. Face it, Dean’s relationship track record isn’t very impressive; he hasn’t been able to hold on to a woman for very long. Why should she be any different?      “Hey, look at me.”      A pair of green orbs stare into her soul when she dares to meet them. The warmth coming from his dark pupils takes away some of the doubt, but not nearly all of it.      “You are the best thing that happened to me in a long, long time. You couldn’t possibly do anything wrong. This is not on you, you hear me?” he tells her, remorseful. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

     His eyes bounce between hers before he comes closer and presses a soft and tender kiss on her lips. It calms her down in an instant and she answers him gratefully. It’s amazing how Dean is able to wash away her insecurities, but then again he always had that effect on her. The lack of his love drowned her in doubt so overwhelming that it caused her to question everything she stands for. But the presence of it, well… let’s just say he is able to make her feel so incredibly special, that she could take on the world. 

     When Dean opens his eyes again and creates a little distance, her smile that had faded over the past week is back. He mirrors the expression, but can’t prevent his heartache from showing too.       Although he convinced her that she didn’t trigger his behaviour, it’s clear as day that he’s carrying a burden around that is forcing him on his knees.      “Then what is it, Dean? Please tell me,” she asks again. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

     He nods, but breaks eye contact nonetheless. Talking about the things that keep him up at night has never been his strong suit. He can’t even remember the last time he talked to anyone about his mother, except for Sam, who used to occasionally ask about her death when he was younger. Even then he wouldn’t waste more than a few words, too afraid it would surface emotions that he was glad to have buried so deep. But when he looks at Y/N again, he does the one thing he has never done with any woman: he opens up.      “On November 2nd, 1983, my mom was killed by a demon,” he starts off. “Today is the anniversary of her death and it’s uh - it’s always been a tough day for me.”

     He gazes away into nothingness as the warm light from the lamp on the bed stand shimmers into his teary eyes. She watches him, her mouth slightly opened in shock by this devastating unravelment, as compassion for her partner grows.       “Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas… They’re not really that much of a celebration when you barely have anyone left to spend it with,” Dean continues. “I was right there when it happened. Even though I was just a kid, I remember and… I-I don’t know, I just can’t seem to be able to let it go.”

     As he tells her what happened that dreadful night, she folds back the covers and snuggles up next to him, filling the emptiness that was there in her absence. Turned on her side facing him, she listens to the story, leaning on her elbow as her free hand grips his.      “The thing is… that if she hadn’t walked into the nursery that night, Azazel probably would’ve left her alone. She would’ve seen her kids grow up, Dad would most likely still be alive. Sam and I wouldn’t have learned how to fire a gun at the age of six,” he scoffs as he rubs his brow. “We would’ve had a childhood, a home… We would’ve been a family.”      His voice breaks on the final word and he keeps quiet, knowing that anything else would come out shaky. He tries to focus on the ceiling light, hoping that if he does, he will be able to keep it together. As he struggles to stay strong, Y/N continues to run her thumb over his hand, not letting go of his grip. 

     “I know it’s a dysfunctional one, but you have a family, Dean. Sam, Cas, me… We’re in this together,” she speaks wisely, trying to comfort him. “And I didn’t have the pleasure to meet your mother, but I bet she’d be damn proud of you after everything that you have done for the people you care about, and not just for them. You saved the world, Dean.”      He keeps staring at the ceiling, shaking his head. He’s not a hero. He started the damn apocalypse. He tortured souls in Hell. He did unimaginable things.       After swallowing thickly, he dares to test his voice again.      “This is not the life she wanted her kids to be raised in.” He knows. “It would make her so sad if she knew we're hunters…”

     The tightness in his chest overwhelms him, it pushes the tears that were gathering in the corner of his eye over the edge, causing them to run down his temples. He doesn’t want her to see this side of him, this weak and vulnerable excuse of a man. But he can’t help it, he can’t stop himself from breaking over his mother’s death for the first time since she passed. He fights the shake in his breath, the tears that keep gathering. Even as a kid he would bury it, stuff it all down and hide it for no one to see. It was one of the first things he learned in order to protect himself. But tonight, he can’t keep his grief at bay. 

     God, he misses her. He misses hearing her voice when she sang ‘Hey Jude’ to him before bedtime. He misses how she smelled like spices and cinnamon whenever she was baking pie. He misses how she hugged him whenever he needed comfort. He misses her so damn much. He chokes back a sob, his free hand running over his face to cover it. 

     “Hey, it’s okay,” Y/N hushes. “It’s okay, Dean. Come here.”      Y/N ushers him to roll into her, folding her arms around him. He lays his head against her chest, the steady metronome-like heartbeat coming from it calming him. It helps to steady his breathing, despite her tight cradle. He has never felt so safe with anyone except with the one person he is mourning over, and so he lets himself go. For the first time, he doesn’t feel the slightest uneasiness in their hug and at that moment he knows. He knows that whatever this is between the two of them, as long as Death doesn’t intervene, it is going to last. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Death always intervenes, Death always takes a hold. It’s only a matter of time, like it’s only a matter of time before November 2nd passes. And like every year, tomorrow it will be easier to look up, to get out of bed, to fake a smile. What is different this year, though, is that he has someone by his side who understands why. 

     It takes a while before Dean’s respiration calms, before his eyelids stay closed. Finally, he’s asleep, but she won’t let go of him and continues to stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss on his head every now and then. She won’t let go until it’s November 3rd.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Follow Forever tags: @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @angelsandwinchesters @atc74 @bandobsession98 @books-wands-swords-impalas @caligraphee @canadianspnhunter @chumi-la-chula @coffee-obsessed-writer @cookie-dough-lova @dawnie1988 @dillpicklesunflowerseed @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @flamencodiva @hannahindie @heartsaved @hennessy0274-blog @hyperella @idreamofhazel @just-another-busy-fangirl @kathaswings @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mariekoukie6661 @mogaruke @mrswhozeewhatsis @myheartbeatsjustforyou @notnaturalanahi @pisces-cutie @rainqueen @risingphoenix761 @sammyssupersmile @sheepdogs33456 @soupornatural @spiritofoblivion @spnimag @sunskittlex @supernatural-girl97​ @super-not-naturall​ @theyaremyveryownthoughts​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @trashforwinchesters​ @ultimatecin73​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @uzum4k1-uch1h4​ @vvishous​ @vxxn128​ @winchest09​ @winchesterxtwo​

#Dean fanfiction #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester #Dean reader insert #Dean angst #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfic #Dean Winchester fanfic #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester x Y/N #Dean Winchester x you #Dean x you #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #Dean Winchester oneshot #Dean oneshot #Kate Huntington

[tiaragqueen]

Could you do a Tsukiyama (tokyo ghoul) obsessing over a fem human who is a bookworm, please?

Under Control

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Tsukiyama Shuu x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k

✂ Trigger Warnings: Mention of depression, killing, cannibalization, objectification, obsessive and possessive behavior, slight malnutrition, manipulation, yandere theme.

[Edited]

***

I’ve used every drop of what little knowledge I have and Google translate regarding other languages, so I hope it doesn’t end up weird.Oh, and this is set before :re.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“The one who loves the least, controls the relationship.” - Robert Anthony

You should’ve known that something was wrong the moment a flamboyant man with vibrant clothes approached you in that book café. And you should’ve known that something was wrong the moment your closed ones started to die one by one.

But it was too late to regret it now, wasn’t it? What happened had happened. There was no need to think about it, especially if the past only brought pain to your already depressed self. You should move on. You should get out of your head more often. You should start seeking help. You should allow yourself happiness. You should allow him to make you happy.

At least, that was what he said.

The truth is, it wasn’t that easy. It would never be that easy to forget that you were the one who had dragged them into your little drama. Them; your family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances. Heck, even your boss! Sure, it wasn’t your fault, to begin with. You didn’t even know that Tsukiyama was a ghoul in the first place.

Had you were a bit more observant, perhaps you would’ve noticed the hints. The way he occasionally licked his lips whenever you spoke about something, the way he studied your face and all the expressions it displayed, the way he checked you out (it wasn’t really discreet, but you’d learned to ignore it), the way he often complimented you whenever you wore clothes that accentuated your figure perfectly, and the way he tended to sniff your neck as a form of ‘greeting’. You’d assumed he was being attentive and considerate, yet it wasn’t all that far from the truth.

Attentive because you were his prey, and considerate because he wanted to make you feel more at ease around him.

But somewhere along the way, he began to change. He became more gentleman-like and… possessive. For example: how he wrapped an arm around your waist whenever you walked together, how he glared at anyone who talked or looked at you for too long, how he bought you some expensive presents regardless of the day and its importance, how he often invited you to his mansion and vice versa, and how he relished in reading books or do some particular gestures to you. Actions that seemed too sweet to be directed towards mere friends, and things that would spark a sense of intimacy between you.

You were a bit caught off guard, to say the least. The furthest things he’d ever done were light flirting and occasional yet lingering touches. But it was a rather nice surprise, you had to admit. Therefore, you’d decided to not to overthink it too much. Again, you’d assumed he was being a good friend. This was probably how he usually showed affection towards his close ones. And besides, you were quite flattered by the amount of attention he’d put on you. So, there was nothing to be suspicious of, right?

Right. Due to how often you both spent time with each other, he might have felt more comfortable now. Tsukiyama had always been extra when it came to you, anyway.

Just like how extra he was when he introduced you to his father.

The last note echoed in the spacious room as Tsukiyama withdrew his fingers from the ivory keyboards. His room. There were paintings of you hung on the wall, each depicting different expression and different attires. You didn’t know when he’d taken up a lesson for painting, but apparently, he’d worked hard to perfect every single frame.

That was what he’d told you on that fateful day, where you’d stupidly visited him because he was ‘sick’. You weren’t aware that ghouls had impressive healing ability, and sickness was probably impossible for them to get in the first place.

“How was it, Mi Amor?” he asked gently, affectionately, lovingly. He caressed your hair, and you sensed love – sincere love – pouring out from his fingertips.

How could a ghoul, one that had killed and eaten many people with another excuse besides hunger, could love someone so earnestly? It was illogical. It was preposterous. It was shocking. It was downright terrifying.

“I’ve composed this song since our first encounter,” he said, droopy eyes admiring the gloss of your crown. His servants have done a good job at taking care of your appearance; from the top of your head to the tip of your feet. All of them were clean, fragrant, and resplendent.

Just like what he had always desired.

“I know this is nothing but I hope you can feel my love, Ma cherié.”

Guilt couldn’t even describe what you were feeling right now; this stomach-churning feeling that told you that you would never loved him the way he wanted you to. The way he loved you. Because he was your captor – your kidnapper – and to fall in love with him would be a sin. A crime so unforgivable no matter how many times you begged for forgiveness.

You weren’t sick like him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, either.

Because he was your friend. You might have even considered him as your best friend; your confidant. He was your go-to person whenever you wanted to vent out, sharing crazy theories that had taken up almost all the spaces in your brain, asking nonsensical things, have a philosophical debate, or just someone to accompany you.

Because you were lonely. Nearly everyone that you’d befriended was superficial, or at least didn’t pay much attention to the details. You didn’t have anyone who you could truly connect with. You didn’t have anyone willing to wake up at ungodly hours and listen to your rambling. You didn’t have anyone who could see behind your quiet yet friendly facadé.

Because you yearned for a friend. And he… He had been perfect. He was everything you ever wanted; everything you ever wished for in a friend. Tsukiyama was, although eccentric, the only friend you could connect with. He was sophisticated, he understood your feelings, he entertained your strange ideas, and he always kept his promises. Never once did he let you down, and never once did he interrupt you when you talked about something.

Because you were hopeless. But it was all just a facadé, wasn’t it? In the end, you’d never truly meant anything to him aside from being a pet. A treasure. A possession he could never let go. A doll that, despite her master’s declaration of love, could only wait until the day he grows bored and throw you away. Which, in your case, throwing you into the chasm of his stomach.

Were you destined to end like this? Did God hate you or something? Because if so, then this was the cruelest punishment you’d ever gotten. It almost felt… unfair.

You hated this, though. You hated how you could do nothing but sit obediently on his lap. You hated how he dressed you up in fancy dresses and accessories as though you were a fucking mannequin. You hated how he always spoon-fed you. You hated that you had to spend the majority of your time waiting for him to come; to take you out of this hell disguised as a beautiful room decorated with your favorite flowers. You hated that the garden was the only place where you could breathe the fresh air. You hated that his servant – Kanae, was it? – seemed to hate you. You hated how his father immediately took a liking on you. You hated how he had suggested Tsukiyama to just marry you already, and you hated how Tsukiyama had the guts to accept it eagerly. He even promised to do so as soon as you were a bit more familiar with your new life.

You hated this; your predicament. Everything. And most of all, you hated your life. You didn’t think it was possible to loathe something abstract before. But now, you knew.

Pushing your glasses, you nodded. This was probably the least expensive thing that you had, and the only thing that you owned from your old life. A reminder that you used to be an ordinary woman with an ordinary house and ordinary life before you became a lovely lady with a lovely mansion and lovely life. “It was superb. Thank you, Tsukiyama-san.”

The warm smile immediately disappeared as a cold frown settled on his face. “What did I tell you about formality, hm?” he asked, warning laced his pernicious words.

You stiffened on his lap, mentally berating yourself over a little slip that could’ve been easily avoided. “A-apologize, Shuu.” you stammered stoically, albeit with a fearful hint. “I wasn’t… in my right mind just now. Forgive me.”

“There!” Tsukiyama beamed, his mood changed so quickly you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not. “Isn’t it much better? After all, we’re lovers. It’ll be odd to call each other with such stiff nicknames.” He cocked his head and regarded you with those gleaming purple eyes.

You recognized that look. You fully comprehended what it meant. He was searching for another mistake; the slightest error that he could use against you. Internal panic aroused bile to leave your mouth – to empty your stomach from its nutrients because it wasn’t as if he would give you another, right? Tsukiyama didn’t want you to weigh more than necessary. Your current weight was enough. Not too skinny yet not too fat, either.

It was a perfect body.

“Don’t you think so, Tesoro?”

“Right, of course.” You sucked in a deep breath and nodded dutifully. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“It’s alright, Miele. Mistakes happen.” You looked away, trying to ignore the irony of those words. He must have been in a good mood today if he didn’t start punishing you. Thank goodness. “Just promise not to repeat it, okay? I’d hate to ‘lecture’ you again, Chérie.”

Tears stung your pupils as you dipped your head. You didn’t want him to see you were crying. No, not again. It was enough to display weakness in the past. You couldn’t afford to be weak. You had to be strong. You needed to be strong.

For him or yourself? You weren’t sure. You refused to think about it, either. As long as you were still alive, although not necessarily well, you would be fine.

“Yes, I promise.”

At least, this bittersweet affection was better than be a part of himself. Literally.

Translations

Mi amor (Spanish): My love

Ma chérie (French): My darling

Tesoro (Italian): Treasure

Miele (Italian): Honey

Chérie (French): Sweetheart

#Yandere tg #Yandere tokyo ghoul #Yandere Tsukiyama #Yandere Tsukiyama shuu #Yandere Tsukiyama x reader #Yandere anime #Tsukiyama x reader #Yandere imagine #Yandere scenario #Yandere one-shot #Anon #Request #Yandere request #Yandere story #yandere tg story #yandere tg imagine #yandere tg oneshot #yandere tg scenario

[visenyatargaryn]

— OC INTERVIEW

tagged by the lovely @chuckhansen​​ and @queennymeria​​!! thank you both so much!! 💖💖

tagging: @aryastrks, @troyebakers​, @tyvians​, @callmeredhood​, @sonyarebecchi && @myrcella​ (if you’ve been tagged already, then ignore this!)

Name: Evangeline... Zotova

Are you single: No, I’m not. 

Are you happy: I... I think so, yes. Definitely yes. To be honest, I haven’t felt true happiness for quite some time. Ever since... well, you know. I had almost forgotten what it felt like... to be happy that is.

Are you angry: Right now? No. I think I’m finally at peace now, thankfully. If you had asked me that a few months ago... my answer would have been different. Back then... I was so angry at everything. The world... the Institute... and myself.

Are your parents still married: I don’t know how to answer that since they’ve been dead for over 200 years now. My mother died while giving birth to me, and my father... well, let’s just say he wished it was me that died that day. However, if it wasn’t for me being born and the world ending... I do believe my parents would still be married.

Nine Facts

Birthplace: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Vibrant green.

Birth date: September 21, 2048

Mood: Currently? Exhausted since Hancock didn’t let me sleep much last night. Shit.. sorry, that was a bit too much information wasn’t it?

Gender: Female

Summer or winter: Summer. I hate the fucking cold, although the alternative does give me the excuse to snuggle up with Hancock.

Morning or afternoon: Mornings. I like how peaceful they are... a fresh beginning to a new day.

Eight things about your love life

Are you in love: Yes, and honestly? It’s the best feeling in the world. It’s strange... you think you loved someone in the past, thinking they were your happily ever after... but fate has different plans for you. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Daniel, but he’s dead now and I’m still alive with a long life ahead of me. And with Hancock.... things just feel different? I’m not one who believes in soulmates, but perhaps that’s what this is?

Do you believe in love at first sight: No, love doesn’t just come on a whim... it takes time to manifest.

Who ended your last relationship: ...A man by the name of Kellogg. He umm... he murdered my husband, Daniel, in cold blood. I’m sorry, but can we please change the subject?

Have you ever broken someones heart: If I have, then I have no recollection of it since I was always the one with the broken heart and not the other person.

Are you afraid of commitment: Yes, more than you think. All my life... people have been leaving me since I was a child. Hell, my own father abandoned his own daughter and fucked off to God knows where. I’ve been cheated on, and I’ve been used and left behind like some kind of fucking useless object. So yeah, I’m terrified of commitment, because the entire relationship is always one-sided in the end.

Have you hugged someone in the last week: Hancock, and only him.

Have you ever had a secret admirer: More like stalkers. When I was a... dancer at a night club in Philly, I had my fair share of creeps. It wasn’t bad at first, hell I thought it was kind of nice to have some admirers you know? They would send flowers mostly, but eventually, it became an actual fucking nightmare. There were letters. They started out as simple love letters... then they became more vulgar... and finally came the death threats. Thankfully the security in the place was decent enough to keep them away... or so I thought, but that’s a story for another time.

Have you ever broken your own heart: I don’t think so, no?

Six Choices

Love or Lust: A healthy dose of both isn’t a bad thing, actually. They are two sides of the same coin are they not? Although, I must admit that I have made a lot of poor life choices... lust being a factor in many of them.

Lemonade or Iced Tea: Lemonade. I remember when I used to live in Sanctuary before the bombs fell. The children would often put up lemonade stands during the summer, and let me tell you... the competition was neverending.

Cats or Dogs: Dogs. I love cats, don’t get me wrong, but dogs just provide better companionship in an apocalyptic world.

A few Best friends or Regular Friends: The first option I suppose. I don’t have many friends anyhow, and those that are... I trust them with my own life.

Wild night out or romantic night in: Night out. I love hearing Magnolia sing down in the Third Rail... her voice is just so soothing. Besides, it kind of comes with the package deal when it comes to Hancock.

Day or night: Nights. It’s peaceful. The world is put on hold for a few hours, and it’s a good time to just relax, you know?

Five Have You Evers

Been caught sneaking out: No. My father never paid much attention to me while growing up, so I could do whatever I please.

Fallen Down/Up the Stairs: All I’m saying is that I had a disagreement with gravity that day, and it won.

Wanted someone/something so badly it hurt: Yes... a daughter shouldn’t have to beg her father for a relationship now, should she?

Wanted to disappear: There was a time when I wanted to, yes. I wished it to be more... permanent, however. I had lost everything, and I no longer wished to keep going because what was the point? Everything about my old life was gone, as it was reduced to nothing but ash and dust, and I was a stranger forced into a foreign place.

Four preferences

Smile or eyes: Eyes. They’re something that’s easily read, and like they say... the eyes never lie.

Shorter or taller: Taller.

Intelligence or Attraction: Attraction... bonus points if they have some intelligence in them though.

Hook up or Relationship: Relationship. I’ve had my fair share of hookups... and it’s just not the same. There’s no connection, you know? It was an alternative I sometimes used to forget things... when alcohol no longer numbed the pain.

Family

Do you and your family get along: No. I never knew my mother since she died during childbirth and as for my father... he had no love for me. Yeah, he raised me and cared for me, but that’s as far as that went. I saw the way he looked at me, with such deep sadness and hatred. The sadness because I was a spitting image of her... my mother that is. As for the hatred, well he blamed me for what happened, and when he was in a drunken stupor... those nights were the worse. In all those years, however, he never hurt me... not physically anyway. Although, there are times where I find myself wondering whatever became of him. Did he live long enough to see the world end? If he did, then did he survive? Was he able to make it to a vault in time? Did he become a ghoul? I know I’ll never know the answers to these questions, and it’s foolish for me to ask myself these since there was no love between us. I guess that’s just the detective in me wanting answers for the unexplainable...

Would you say you have a messed up life: My life is a complete fucking mess if you ask me. I witnessed my husband’s death and the kidnapping of my son. Then I had to end my son’s life because he was now the head of some evil cooperation. And to top it all off, I’m now living 200 years into the future... in a world that was reduced to nothing but ash and dust all because the world leaders decided to play God. So yeah, saying my life is messed up is putting it lightly.

Have you ever ran away from home: Yes, but only after my father decided to leave one day without any signs of him returning... so I just left as well. Did I wish to run away prior to that? Absolutely. Except I had nowhere else to go, and I was far too young to live on my own.

Have you ever got kicked out: Surprisingly, no. I always expected my father to tell me to pack my bags at some point, but he never did.

Friends

Do you secretly hate one of your friends: No. If I hated someone, then I would let them know right away how I feel about them.

Do you consider all of your friends good friends: Yes. We have all been through a lot together and there are none other I would consider friends than them. Nick had been there every step of the way when it came to finding my son, and I would trust him with my own life... just as I had done the same with the real Nick Valentine. Codsworth, well, I know he’s just a robot, but he’s been a good friend and has always been supportive... and he was there since the beginning, before the war that is. Dasiy is a spectacular woman, when I first came to Goodneighbor she welcomed me with open arms... and our talks are just so wonderful since we’re both from the same time. Then there’s Hancock, of course, we’re more than friends now, but he’s... well, he’s everything I could ask for in someone.

Who is your best friend: Do I have to pick one? Because I consider all of my friends as such, but if I must choose only one, then it’s Hancock. He’s a great friend and more; Hancock was there for me when I was at my lowest point... I had just come out of the vault and I was in a shitty place; being plagued by nightmares... extreme depression... and I was a fucking alcoholic. He never walked away though, no matter how hard I tried to push... he pushed back harder. He took care of me on my bad days, and I... I don’t think there are any words or deeds that could ever be used to thank him for it?

Who knows everything about you: Hancock and Nick both perhaps? I mean, Nick has the memories of the real Nick Valentine... who I happened to work with for a time before the war. Hancock... well, there are no secrets between us, and he basically knows my entire life story as does Nick.

#only if you want to of course!!! #and if anyone else wants to do this... #you're more than welcome to do so!!! #oc: evangeline zotova

[a-wandering-ghoulette]

MyRock ; issue n°44 (Jan/Feb 2017) A Nameless Ghoul from Ghost interview.

Photos: Manon Violence Interview: Mark Renton

2017 has been the year of all records for Ghost! After an exceptional concert at Hellfest, a nicely lead Download Festival (despite voice problems) and a France tour still in minds, the band then launched a triumphal American tour. Meanwhile, the satanic clergy also draw its awesome “Popestar”, EP lead with drums beating by the heady single “Square Hammer”. Telephonical talk with one Nameless Ghoul to take stock on the past, the present and future of this definitely fascinating band.

//Before continuing, note this issue is still available for international orders on their online shop. Direct link to this issue’s page in source! Don’t be surprised by the first cover shown there, it’s litteraly a two covered mag… The mag is meant to be read in 2 time: you start by one side, no matter which one, and when you reach the middle, you have to close it and flip it then tadaaa you have more to read on the 2nd side!//

(Read the full interview under the cut and feel free to point out mistakes!)

Hello, who’s calling? Nameless Ghoul: Hello! I’m one of the Nameless Ghouls.

Which one? Which instrument do you play in the band? N.G. : I’m our clergy’s official spokesperson. I’m also Ghost’s founder, main composer and, most of the time, I play guitar.

How do you feel at the approach of Papa Emeritus III’s end of reign? Because there’ll certainly be a new Papa Emeritus soon… N.G. : You’re right, we’re close to the end of a cycle. Personally, I always saw change as a good thing. It’s stimulating. We still have a lot of concerts to give in 2017, but I think I can safely say that at the end of the next year, all Nameless Ghouls will be tired of Papa Emeritus III! It’ll be nice to see a new leader coming to guide us.

How would you describe the personality of Papa Emeritus III compared to his predecessors? N. G. : First of all, Papa Emeritus III is an entertainer! He loves projectors, he loves the public, and he loves success. The first Papa Emeritus was someone very rigid, very strict, and very solemn. A real son of a bitch! (laughs) To be honest, we don’t miss him at all! Papa Emeritus II was a pervert a little bit sadistic, and, in hindsight, I think he wasn’t very at ease on stage. He wasn’t a showman, unlike Papa Emeritus III! Him, he’s the guide we missed to rise up the quality of our shows, to reach the step above and communicate with our fans. We will be eternally thankful for his work. I believe he have paved the way for his successor…

Precisely, what are you waiting from the future Papa Emeritus IV? N.G. : Well, I want him to be scary. That he bring back something more tenebrous, while remaining spectacular. Broadly speaking, I want the next album to come back to a gloomier atmosphere.

Fueled by ego

On a more personal viewpoint, what is your relationship with your character? N.G. : What’s exciting me the most with Ghost, it’s that the project is a real challenge for the individuals involved. Everybody is on an equal footing. Furthermore, there’s something really thrilling to embody a character which is a part of yourself, but never totally you. Traditionally, rock stars always reach the point where they fuse with their creature. In the end, rock’s always been fueled by ego. Even if you’re part of a fully honest and underground band, you’ll always have this desire to be under the spotlights, to be recognize, famous and loved. Those pretending the contrary are liars. Roughly, no matter the music you make, you all secretly dream to be a kind of Justin Bieber. (laughs) To be masked is something very different. It’s a kind of anomaly in the entertainment system. Because every day, you never receive the admiration you deserve. When I’m not on stage with Ghost, I’m going back in anonymity. It’s very positive for me. I would say, my character brings me some stability in my daily life. But I’m aware my case is a bit special since I’m Ghost’s main composer and thus I’ll always be linked in a way or another to this project. But being in the obscurity is sometime more complicated to manage for the other Nameless Ghouls…

This mystery surrounding Ghost inevitably attracts the fans curiosity. This year, some of them started a vast quest to discover your identities. We imagine it’s part of the game, but what are you feeling regarding it? N.G. : From the beginning, we knew it’ll be impossible to keep the secret until the end. It’s already a miracle we held this long. (laughs) Personally, it doesn’t matter. I think the work accomplished pays its own way. I mean, our albums, our concerts and our universes are that strong they succeed to supplant the reality. Today, people don’t care to know who’s under Papa Emeritus’ hat. When they come to see us play, they want the real Papa. It’s a bit like if our creature ended up escaping us to live its own life.

2017 has been a successful year for Ghost, with appearances in huge festivals, a colossal American tour and the worldwide success of the EP “Popestar”. How did you live that? N.G. : This year has been amazing on every points, really! We’ve been able to see how much the band has grown by federating more fans. However, I’m not someone who contemplate our success and congratulate myself. The past doesn’t interest me. But the future does. When we take a step forward I always try to have in mind the next one. 5 years ago, we played at the Olympia supporting In Flames and Trivium. It happens that on 11 April next we’ll come back, this time as the headliner. But instead of rejoicing, I like to tell myself: “OK, it’s cool, but what I really want to do is Bercy!”. And if one day we make it to Bercy as the headliner, I know in a corner of my head there’ll be the Stade de France. I’m ambitious. (laughs)

I come from extreme metal.

Ghost is one of the rare bands to link metal to the general public. Do you think it explains this popularity? N.G. : I think, yes. We see more and more diversity in the public at our gigs. Of course, there are metalheads with long hair and battle jacket, but there are also hipsters, girls who usually listen to pop music, and alternative rock lovers. I find it fantastic. You know, musically, I come from extreme metal. It’s been in my genes since my teenage years. I listen to many other things, but it’s where I come from. It’s my identity and it’s what forged my mentality. At the point that, when Ghost began to be successful, I started to feel guilty. I had that feeling I transgressed underground metal’s tactical rules, which are systematic rejection of success and popularity. It took me a lot of abnegation to understand success isn’t nefarious, on the contrary, it’s the reward for an hard work. And deep down I think I was scared to be rejected by my own community, to be treated like a sellout.

Have you ever been confront to animosity from fundamentalists metalheads? N.G. : Oh yes, mostly now! On internet, some start to let their hate flow on Ghost. But it’s OK, I understand. Myself, if I wasn’t in the band, I think I would hate Ghost. (laughs) Because in metal, once a band makes money, they’re sellout. It’s like this and I accept it. It’s also an old metalhead’s thing. People who were here during the rise of the extreme genres grew up with a certain code of conduct, with a more rigid thinking. By the way, I’m going to tell you a secret: some of my best friends abhor Ghost. They hate the band. They don’t understand what we do, they think it’s crap. But it’s nothing. They can. They stay my friends after all. (laughs) It’s different with kids, they are more open minded. But in hindsight, I’m figuring out that me too, in my daily life, I’m an old fart. (laughs) I listen to a small amount of new things. Nothing give me more joy than a good old “Master of Puppets”, a “Seven Churches” by Possessed, or a King Diamond, my hero!

King Diamond & Merciful Fate.

Would you say King Diamond was the biggest inspiration for Ghost, in terms of theatricality? N.G. : Indeed! As far as I remember, I’ve always listened to King Diamond and Merciful Fate. At home, my mother listened to a lot of 60’s and 70’s classic rock, like Beatles, Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. My brother, him, listened to harder stuff like AC/DC, Sex Pistols, Rainbow… I liked all of this, but when my neighbor introduce me to King Diamond I had the feeling to be someone special. I was listening to this crazy stuff that no one else knew at home! I was 8 and, at this age, as you can imagine, I was very marked by his albums’ visuals. King Diamond is the one who open me the door to this gloomy universe which is now find in Ghost.

Kid from the 80’s.

We also guess an interest for the 80’s! If previously you made a cover of Depeche Mode, your EP “Popestar” offer us covers of Echo & The Bunnymen and Eurythmics. N.G. : I’m a kid from the 80’s, it’s the soundtrack of my life. I think it’s mostly thanks to the radio, which was always switch on at home. I like all classics: Mike Oldfield, Nik Kershaw, Eurythmics, Midnight Oil… When I was a teenage, I kind of liked to show of and act like a thoug one who only listen to extreme metal, but secretly, in my bedroom, I listened to Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet and Bronski Beat. (laughs) And, in the end, Ghost is exactly this: a mix of Kiss, Depeche Mode and Merciful Fate with a bit of Pink Floyd over it, especially “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn” and “A Saucerful of Secrets”.

On your last EP, there is the heady single “Square Hammer”. It’s the first time you embrace that clearly pop’s codes. Is this song representative of the sound you would like to have on the next album? N.G. : You know, album after album, each time we ask ourselves how far we can go. It was already the case with “Infestissumam”. At the time, we wondered if the song “Ghuleh/Zombie Queen” wasn’t too much. After a moment of hesitation we were like “Fuck! Black Sabbath made ballads so why not us?”. On “Meliora”, we wondered if there weren’t too many ballads. Then, when we composed “Square Hammer”, we found the title too direct, too effective. We were scared our fans wouldn’t understand. We’ve always had this metalhead consciousness tugging us. But in the end, we thought a good song is a good song, no matter the shape. So to answer your question, I think our next disc will wander further more into these melodies, indeed.

You have a break until the resumption of the tour, on March. Will you write the new album while you’re at it? N.G. : Of course! I’m already on it, I have some new songs…  And a good idea where I want to go with this album, but it’s too early to talk about it. The problem is the 2017 tour will extend and I’m not sure we’ll have the time to finish the recording before going back on the roads. I think we’ll finish it in late 2017, with a potential release in 2018. Earlier seems difficult to me! All I can tell you is that visually, the next album’s imagery will come back to something way darker than “Meliora”.

What can we expect for your next date at the Olympia, on 11 April next? N.G. : I saw today that our concert is sold out, it’s amazing! It’ll be very alike shows we gave in the USA this year. We have a stage structure more sizable compared to the last time we came in France. Visually, the show will be impressive, but we’ll also play some rare titles. The only deception is we won’t have the pyrotechnical effects, because they aren’t authorized at the Olympia. So it’ll has to work doubly hard! You know, we love to play in France. We are always very well hosted here. Moreover, what I most loved since the release of “Meliora” it’s to play again and again in France. I really saw our public grow out there when it comes to Hellfest or Rock en Seine. To feel appreciated like this is the greatest reward. Furthermore, the food is succulent in France, people are lovely and you have this attitude a bit impertinent which is rather close to that of Ghost. France, it’s our second home. We’re eager to be back at the Olympia and to party with you! (Translator note: Ooooh you and your sweet like honey words~ We love you too, dear.)

Bonus anecdote:

(Almost) naked with James Hetfield! Our new friend Nameless Ghoul is an ultimate fan of Metallica. Before becoming friend with James Hetfield, he met him in circumstances rather… embarrassing: “Metallica, it’s the greatest band in the world! I hadn’t have time to fully savor their last album but I’m so happy to know they’re alive and in great shape.  It also means they will tour, and thus we’ll get the occasion to meet on the road. James Hetfield has been one of Ghost’s first supports. I had the chance to meet him several times, and since we often message each other. The first time he’s been introduced to me, the situation was rather… surrealistic. We were in our lodge, changing ourselves, and here come James Hetfield suddenly appearing by the door to say hi. And you know what? I was in underwear! It was the most embarrassing situation of my life! I was there, in underwear, in front of my greatest idol! How embarrassing!”

#the band ghost #Nameless Ghouls #papa emeritus iii #special ghoul #tobias forge #interview