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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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Hello hello!! You're probably swamped with asks, but if you have the time and energy, you should do a slow burn Alastor x reader set in the 1920s where the reader is a performer at mimzys speakeasy and that's where Alastor goes to chose his victims. He sees the reader for the first time and immediately thinks that they are his next victim but he keeps getting thwarted by small incidents, such as the reader leaving early and him barely missing his chance. After a while he notices small things about them and their personality after sort of observing them, and then they meet and he loses his interest in killing them. Of course the slow burn happens, the drama ensues, he's still a killer but keeps it a secret and then after a while the reader finds out. You can choose if you want a happy ending or not, but I had that idea in my mind and your one of the only writers I see that could do it justice. Thanks for sharing your talents!!! Your amazing and gifted in ways that inspire everyone who interacts with your blog🫶🫶🫶

A/N You’re literally so sweet?? Wtf?? I love you?? Thank you??? I hope you like what I did with this fun and fluffy idea!!! ahhhhhh!!!! also, I am running with the ambiguity of the ending. I am such a little slut for ambiguity.

Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN. SLOW. BURNING IMAGERY. A LITTLE OVER THE TOP ON THE BURNING IMAGERY THING. Dead bodies, blood, murder, killing, mentions of stalking. This one got away from me a bit.

Word Count: 4,197

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Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.

The box of matches pulled from the pocket had been Alastor going to the bar, all those months before. Nearly a year now, once he sat and really thought about it. He had been going to Mimzy's little speakeasy on the outskirts of town since it had been just that, a little speakeasy on the outskirts of town rather than the full fledged, illegal club she ran today.

Back when it was a speak easy, there had never been a problem. On that fateful day, though he hadn't known it then, the club had changed its form. It had become the kindling. Sitting down at the table had been pulling a match from the box and Y/n.... Y/n had been the rough hewn striker paper he lit it on. It was all so obvious now, looking back. The expression 'hindsight is 20/20' existed for a reason.

So, Alastor had entered the club (matchbox out of pocket). As soon as Mimzy had spotted him, she had run over with a bright smile and a glass of whiskey on the house as always. Alastor had always liked Mimzy. She was wild and positively hilarious when she wanted to be but, at the same time, she had a good head for business. Her morals were just wobbly enough that Alastor felt comfortable with her, a camaraderie he felt with no other.

The lights had gone down suddenly and Mimzy, cutting herself off mid sentence, had turned to the stage in excitement.

"Good show tonight?" Alastor had asked.

Alastor never came to Mimzy's club for the music. She knew he didn't care, not really. Still, he had the curtesy to ask and so, she whipped back towards him.

"You betcha." she grinned up at him, "I just got this new kid? Came from all the way up north, can you believe that? Anyway, they have a set of pipes like you wouldn't believe! Just the bees knees, I tell you."

Grabbing Alastor's arm, Mimzy dragged him to a table by the stage. Alastor sat down across from her (match from the box) with an air of mild reluctance. Mimzy tapped her hands on the table impatiently.

A spot light flickered on and a scrawny young kid stepped onto the stage. He couldn't be much younger than Alastor or Mimzy themselves but he was one of those people that always look younger than they are. He had been working for Mimzy for a while now but, Alastor had never bothered to learn his name. He was simply 'Mimz's Manager' in his view of the world. The kid cleared his throat, leaning in towards the microphone which had been placed at center stage.

"How are we feeling out there tonight?" he asked the room at large and there had been a miscellaneous cheer from the room at large, "Well that's good to hear! We've got a real treat for you tonight folks. All the way from the Big Apple, we bring you, Y/n!"

The kid left the stage and a new figure stepped out from the shadows (revelation of match striker paper). The minute Alastor saw them, in the well cut suit that shone dark in the light, he knew. They were perfect. Slim, but not too fit and shorter than he was. Morally ambiguous enough in their aims that they had come running from New York to work at a speakeasy. This 'Y/n,' if that was even their real name, was his ideal next victim. Alastor smiled in the dim light as somewhere off stage, a piano began to play.

"I'll be loving you, always" the person sang and Alastor was taken aback.

Mimzy had been right. He had never heard a voice like it before. They sang with an emotional depth that could be heard from few. Somehow, they still managed to keep it sounding like music.

"When the things you plan Need a helping hand I will understand, always, always"

Mimzy leaned across the table to Alastor, her eyes alight.

"What did I tell you?" she whispered.

Alastor nodded his head to the side in vague agreement.

"Not for just an hour Not for just a day"

When they finished their set a half hour later, it was to raucous applause. The house lights raised and with them, Mimzy stood from her chair.

"I'll be back in two shakes." she promised before disappearing off into the crowd.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. Contemplatively, he took a sip from his drink. The time before a kill was nearly as an enjoyable as the act itself. It was ritualistic, it brought him closer to god.

Before he knew it, Mimzy was back, dragging the singer behind her. They looked slightly frazzled, their hair a bit messy and their brow furrowed.

"Mimzy!" they exclaimed as they struggled to keep up with the woman holding their wrist in her vice-like grip.

Their speaking voice was... different than Alastor had expected. From the way they had sung on stage, he had thought it would be sharp, loud, ebullient. Instead, it was rather soft. Alastor couldn't help but think of the creek out back of the house he had grown up in.

"Al, meet my new favorite!" Mimzy announced, coming to a stop beside Alastor.

"I..."

The situation had been unexpected to say the least. Alastor had had a long day. He hadn't come here to socialize, he came here to drink. Now, he was at a loss for words, the haze of sleep and irritation clouding his mind.

Y/n looked at Mimzy before fixing their gaze back on him. The took a step forward, fixing a smile on their face, and held out their hand.

"Y/n."

So it was their real name. The one they presented to the world, at least.

Alastor smiled, standing from his seat and taking their hand in his.

"Alastor."

They had a firm handshake. There was something authoritative about it, something just a bit too confident.

"Pleasure to be meeting you." they said.

"Quite the pleasure." Alastor nodded.

They broke contact and Y/n turned to Mimzy, suddenly seeming very tired.

"I'm gonna head, Mimzy." they hummed, their voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony surrounding them.

Before Mimzy could say a word against their statement, they were gone. The crowd sheltered them from sight almost immediately. After that night, Alastor started coming to the club a lot more often.

He always sat in the same seat, the table near stage left. It was right next to the exit. Anyone getting off the stage had to go right past him. It was a calculated choice. Step one of his little projects, so to speak, had always been learning more about his victims, finding out their patterns.

The problem was, Y/n never seemed to do the same thing twice. Every time Alastor would think himself ready, would ready everything for the action, something different happen. The first time, it had been that Y/n had simply managed to slip out earlier than normal. Mimzy was always introducing them to someone or another after their shows, delaying their departure. That night, it seemed, they had somehow been able to avoid the mayhem.

Another time, the problem had been that Y/n had stayed at the club too long. Alastor was a working man and once the clock hit midnight, it was time to cut his losses and go home. A third time, Y/n had just happened to call out sick the very night he had gotten everything back in order.

A month in, and Alastor was ready for his fourth attempt. He sat at his usual table, drinking his usual drink. When Y/n left the stage, he kept his eyes trained on them as always. It went like clockwork - Mimzy pulled them away, they tried desperately to escape and eventually, they succeeded. That was when everything went south again.

One second, Y/n was by the bar and the next? Gone. Alastor got to his feet, tossing a bill or two to the bar tender and disappearing out through the door. He was determined. Tonight had to be the night. If tonight wasn't the night? He was done. Alastor was not a foolish man, he knew when he was beat.

Quietly, nothing but the sound of cicadas and the occasional echo of a car from elsewhere in the city accompanying him, Alastor slipped down the ally he knew the club's back door let out into.

"There you are."

Alastor spun around.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Y/n leaned casually against the wall, the dark fabric of their dress blending softly with the night. When Alastor didn't reply, standing in their gaze like a deer in headlights, they stood themselves up and walked the step and a half it took for them to be face to face with him.

"I'd like it if you stopped following me. Or, trying to follow me. It's getting kind of old.'' (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Alastor resumed his composure. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he leaned forward, fixing a teasing grin onto his face.

"Oh, would you now?"

Y/n, much to his surprise, held their ground.

"Yeah, I would. Whats your interest in me anyways?"

Thinking on his feet had never been an issue for Alastor. Besides, he really did have some questions for the illusive singer. Or, he had one question for them. One that might lead to others.

"Oh, you know." he hummed, straightening back up, "All the way from the 'Big Apple.'"

Y/n scoffed at his parody of their nightly introduction to the stage. They crossed their arms, glancing off to the ally's entrance as a drunk couple stumbled by.

"Yep."

"Why?"

Turning to face him again, Y/n narrowed their eyes.

"Why do you wanna know?"

The hint of an accent. At least he knew they weren't lying about where they came from.

"I suppose you can call me a curious fan."

"I think being a bit less of both those things would suit you."

They fell into a brief, nearly uncomfortable silence. Letting out a sigh, Y/n was the one to break it.

"Look," they began, "I know you're friends with my boss and all but... I am going to go back into that dive and I am going to stay there until you are long gone. I'll stay the night if I have to, d'ya get it?"

Alastor's smile tightened.

"Loud and clear."

"Good."

Y/n didn't see Alastor for another week. Slowly, the tension that had permeated their every waking moment since meeting Alastor that first night, the constant ache of his eyes on their back, began to fade. Just a little, but it was enough. When they saw him sitting at the bar almost two weeks after their little altercation, the amount it had faded was just enough to make them angry at his return.

Alastor hadn't really meant to come back. His plan was to give it a month, maybe even two. His plan was to come back and resume life like it had been before he had ever even known Y/n existed. His mind had other plans.

He had tried to find another target, occupy himself with a new victim. There was something unsatisfying about it, he couldn't quite get his head in the game. Every time he went to trail a potential victim, he heard their voice ringing out in the silence of his mind.

There you are.

Alastor had been killing for about three years now. He had a good number of victims under his belt and was in no ways a newbie. Even back when he had been one, no one had ever caught him out like that before. There had been a couple close calls, sure. There always were but waiting for him? Thwarting his plans repeatedly? Beating him at his own game?

"I thought I told you to leave me alone."

Alastor looked up from his glass of whiskey, smiling politely up at Y/n. He could feel the anger radiating off them in waves.

"Mimzy would be rather sad if I just up and disappeared like that, no explanation."

He caught sight of her across the open space and waved. With a bright smile, Mimzy waved back before returning to the conversation she had been embroiled in. Alastor turned back to Y/n.

"Oh, wouldn't you hear that? You're getting sober. Congratulations."

"Ah, but there is still the music and that wonderful new singer who came down from up north not too long ago."

Y/n took a deep breath, calming themselves.

"It's not that hard of a question to answer. Or at least, it shouldn't be for most people. What, are you on the run from the cops? I heard life is oh so dangerous in those big cities up there, after all. Maybe part of the reason was you."

"If I answer your question, will you leave me alone?"

Alastor was silent for a short moment before he replied.

"If I like the answer? Sure. I'll leave you alone."

In a single, sharp movement, Y/n dragged the stool beside him out and sat down. Tapping their fingers on the table, they got the bartender's attention and ordered themselves a drink.

"You want to know why I left New York?" they hummed thoughtfully, "It's because of guys like you."

A shock of sudden nerves fought through Alastor's system. Did they somehow know? After all this time, had someone figured it out? After just under two months?

"Guys like me? What ever on earth do you mean?"

"You know, pretty boys. Pretty boys who turn out to be creepy boys that don't know the meaning of the word 'no.'" (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

It wasn't the first time Alastor had been called pretty or handsome or something of the like. In fact, he knew he was pretty. It was part of why the whole ruse worked. Normally, however, when people told him he was, it was accompanied by far too much blushing and looks to the side. Y/n held his gaze firmly the whole time.

"So, you're escaping an ex? A jaded lover?"

"A jaded 'someone-who-watched-me-perform-once-and-decided-it-meant-we-were-married'? Yeah."

The bartender placed the drink in front of Y/n. They picked up the glass, downing it in one go. They grimaced.

"You like my answer?"

"Hmmm... no." Alastor grinned, ear to ear, "I don't think I do."

Y/n sighed.

"What is it you want from me?"

Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He was very good at keeping the inside from showing on the outside. The question had just caught him so off guard, or maybe it was something about Y/n that had him on his toes, he couldn't help it. They kept seeming to make his head spin.

"Want from you?"

"Money? Sex? Fame? A fall guy? What."

"I don't want anything from you." (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)

Y/n eyed him suspiciously. The answer had been automatic. Alastor himself was struggling to comprehend the words that had left his mouth. He wanted to kill them, right? What he wanted from them was their life, right? That was what he had been working for over all these days, fighting for. He knew it was true so why did the statement not feel like a lie as it had traveled from his tongue?

"Yeah right." Y/n placed their hands on the bar, pulling themselves to stand, "I totally believe that."

"Just your time, Songbird. Just your time."

They turned to him.

"I don't understand you."

"You don't have to. I don't understand you either."

They paused.

"It frustrates me." Y/n admitted, "Who even are you? I don't know anything except your name."

Alastor gave their now empty chair a pointed look. Y/n stood in contemplation for a few seconds before they nodded their head once, seemingly to themselves, and took their seat once again. Confidently, they tapped two fingers on the lip of their empty glass.

"Another."

(match strikes paper, match lights.)

Alastor was the match, Y/n was the paper. The club stopped being kindling the moment the pair took their conversation outside its boundaries for the first time, about a month or so later. For a while, there was no kindling, there was just match and paper. Alastor liked it that way.

It had been hard enough to come to terms with the fact that he really did have no interest in killing them anymore. That the moment such an idea occurred, he could see them in his minds eye, smiling or picking at the hem of their shirt the way they did when they were nervous.

The kindling reappeared when Alastor realized the match had been struck in the first place. That was a whole other thing. The friendship suddenly seemed easy, the loss of bloodlust directed toward them was like nothing in the face of a realization like that. Once he recognized the flame, Alastor stopped being a match and Y/n stopped being paper. The match became the little flutter of their stomachs when they caught sight of one another, the tension of the moments where they could make contact. Y/n and Alastor were kindling now and they were standing oh so very close to that dangerous flame.

It was Alastor's sleeve that caught fire first. It happened when they had gotten caught in the rain. Y/n had opened their umbrella and, seeing Alastor had none, insisted he join them in its cover. Alastor had, of course, refused. With a roll of their eyes, they had grabbed his hand and yanked him forcefully into place beside them. Alastor hadn't realized they had only touched once, when they first shook hands, until Y/n's skin made contact with his once again.

The worst part about it all, was that it made sense. It made so much sense. They were quiet, contemplative, and calculative. Before long, being with them felt like being with an extension of himself in an odd way. Alastor couldn't quite describe it, he didn't have the words.

Y/n always seemed to notice things no one else did. When Alastor had forgotten his umbrella the next three or four times it had rained, they had confronted him.

"Almost like you're doing this on purpose." they had hummed softly.

Though they didn't look at him, Y/n knew Alastor was blushing.

"Shut up."

The next thing to catch had been Y/n's collar. Y/n had been chatting with him, sharing a drink before their set and they had lost track of time. At the sound of the stage manager, Alastor still did not know his name, beginning their introduction to the stage, they had jumped up in fright, hurriedly tightening their tie which they had loosened in the casual atmosphere. Noticing that the action had caused part of their collar to fold awkwardly, Alastor had gotten to his feet as well. With a gentleness he had not made use of since his mother died, he had fixed Y/n's collar.

"Wh-" they had stopped mid question, having realized what he was doing.

His hand lingered on their collar. Y/n's eyes traveled up his arm, at last meeting his own.

"Thank you."

Those big wide eyes, full of curiosity and comfort. Alastor could get lost in those.

"Y/n!" the stage manager announced.

"Shit!" they exclaimed and the magic of the moment was broken as they pulled themselves away.

All it took was that. It wasn't much but, fire has a way of working with what it has. When a few days later Y/n had stepped out into the street without looking, being too caught up in the story they were telling Alastor, and he had pulled them back just as a car passed, it was too late. The house couldn't be saved, the flames had gone too far. A few blocks later, after thanking him, Y/n had realized they were still holding hands. They stopped, pulling Alastor to a halt beside them.

"What are we doing?"

"We're going for lunch. Are you quite alright? You were the one who sugge-"

"No, Alastor. I mean: what are we doing?"

Alastor followed the path of their eyes to their interlaced fingers.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was a pause. The world turned around them.

"I don't... I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Alastor took a deep breath before braving the sight of their bewildered and slightly saddened face once again.

"I said all I wanted was your time."

"That's the problem."

Y/n let go of his hand, running their own through their loose hair.

"That's the problem, Alastor." they said again.

"What is?"

Y/n had a habit of telling him the most serious things eye to eye with a stoney demeanor. He was surprised to see them break from this confident custom of theirs as they looked away, their arms wrapping protectively around themself.

"I want more. I want you to want more."

Alastor was stunned, he was speechless.

"I... I'll see you tomorrow, Al."

Before they could make it more than a step away, Alastor grabbed their shoulder, spinning them to him. Y/n looked up at him, confusion painting their features with the most delicate brush.

Alastor struggled, he fought. Still, there were no words.

"Don't you get it?" he asked, "I want your time. Y/n, I want you."

Alastor kept finding himself in trickier and trickier situations. First there had been trying to kill them, then the hurdle of not wanting to kill them. Friendship had given way to its own bag of worms and now that they were more than friends?

He had thought that it all would stop. He had thought that if things ever worked out the way they had, everything would be okay. He had forgotten his nature.

At first, hiding the killings was just as easy as it had been before. It did not stay that way. Alastor was good at hiding things, always had been. That wasn't the issue. What was the issue was that he cared about Y/n, he didn't want to hurt them. Keeping secrets... well, his mother had always told him that no one ever fools anybody. His mother was a wise woman. His mother had been right.

Y/n had stopped by as a surprise. They had a home cooked meal in a basket and a bag over their shoulder full of records they thought he would like. When they stepped into the foyer of Alastor's large, garden district home, they had called their usual greeting.

Alastor's heart had stopped at the sound of their voice. He froze, his cleaver still firmly wedged between the shoulder and chest of the man he was chopping into pieces for easier disposal. Hoping it was his mind playing tricks on him, he waited. They called again.

"Al! I have a surprise for you! The surprise is me! And also? I made you dinner. Come out! I know you're home!"

Under any other circumstances, them showing up like this would have filled him with unbridled joy. However, it wasn't any other circumstances. It was these circumstances. Alastor was covered in another man's blood. There was a body just a few rooms from his beloved. Either way, they would find out the truth. They were a nosey thing, always so inquisitive.

"Alastor!" he heard them call again.

They were closer now, much closer. He watched in a mixture of horror, despair, and a twinge of excitement as the doorknob jiiggled.

"Alastor?"

How would Y/n react to such a sight? Would they cower in fear? Was their love alone enough to hold them here, to tie them to him in loyalty? Would they run to the cops? Would they cry? Would they ask to help? Would he have to kill them too?

It was sickeningly delightful, all the unknowns. His heart pounded violently in his ears. The door swung open.

"There you are!"

"My dear! How wonderful to see you."

----

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

Sorry if the end made you angry,,, I just think the not knowing is so much more fun!

Also the song is "Always" by Irving Berlin.

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r3starttt · 4 months

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Rockstar gf! Ellie

a/n: i imagine her as a mix of girl in red and mitski(hot). As usual, reblog if you like <3 I’d really appreciate it tyyyy

Warnings: none, just a few mentions of making out

She would start the band after one girl told her that she should sing more often because her voice was nice. Later she found out that girl was straight and just being nice to her, but it was way toooo late because she had already convinced Dina and Jesse.

Her band started like shit, no fame, no much attention, no anything. That was until they performed at a bar and some girls started to fangirl because ellie is hot af. They went super viral on tik tok and eventually became super super famous and loved ofc.

She’d make you live lots of y/n moments. Making a lot of songs about you, asking you to go on stage with her, singing to you whenever you go to her shows. And ofc girlies are jealous of you, though they’re really nice, no toxic fans mostly :) ellie makes sure of that.

She’d go on stage with those t shirts that have messages like “I love my gf”. Her social media would be full with posts of you and the band ofc. She would be pretty active on tik tok and twitter as well and would interact a lot with the fans.

She loves acting all hot on stage, give the fans what they want yk. But backstage and mostly with you she’s such a baby, somehow no one knows how she used to be high school and thank god because that’s the real Ellie, the one that’s such a loser with the girls, the one that’s a nerd, the one that loves being babied and all that cheesy shit.

It’s almost a ritual, every time before she goes on stage she ends up making out with you, and after shows as well because she has so much energy she needs to take it out somehow right?. Lots of teasing, definitely loves scissoring (rough) and fingering ofc. One of the first things she did when money started to appear was definitely buying a strap so… yeah.

Adores spoiling you, a lot. She’d buy anything you want whenever you ask for it, she’d try her best to put attention when you go shopping to see what you like, even though most of the times she forgets until you talk to her about it or she sees it online.

She has such a bad memory so she definitely forgets the lyrics of her songs and just leans the microphone to the public. Also falls a lot on stage. You always make fun of her and she gets mad until she’s not and then she apologizes for being so moody.

She calls you wife, her fans call you her wife. She makes sure everyone knows about you and always finds a way to mention about her beautiful gorgeous hot gf.

She does a lot of lives before or after her shows, you’re always there and again, she lets everyone know you’re there.

She always plays guitar to you, always. As in ken to Barbie. And yes you find it a little bit too much but also don’t care cause you get an amazing view of her hands and her tattoo fully displayed and it’s hot.

Her tattoo, god. Everyone loves her tattoo, it became such an iconic thing between shappic community and again, it helped with the fame because it got viral everywhere, hot.

She desperate needs you on every show, she’ll beg you to go and gets sad when you can’t go. On her first tour she couldn’t stop thinking and talking about you with Dina and Jesse so they begged you to call her cause she’s to shy to ask herself, which is weird considering she can’t stop sending you audios and messages and photos of her in the most hot angles with the most hot clothes ever just to tease you.

Every time she gets back from tour or sees you after a show you couldn’t attend to she’d be extremely touchy and needy and would not leave you alone. Lots of calls and texts and definitely audios.

—————

So sad she’s not real 😡

Also here’s an abby one :)))

#lesbian #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie headcanons #rockstar girlfriend #ren masterlist ᵎᵎ ִ ۫ ּ ⊹

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kazoolapow · 4 months

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Azula's Gambit

pairing : Azula x Gender-Neutral Reader word count : 5k

warnings: angsty and feels. Summary : Princess Azula known for her cunning and control, finds herself inexplicably drawn to you, a figure who challenges her at every turn. You and Azula were bound by a complex game of emotion, mind games, power plays and manipulation. One day, you challenge Azula to break her facade; to see her vulnerable, with one question in mind: Are you just a game to her? Or are you something more? A/N : I really hope you enjoy this angsty, brainy, little fic of Azula. There will be part two of the ending (in which I still wrecked my head to write about 🥲)

---

In the center of the courtyard, Azula stood, a figure of fierce concentration. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes. She started off by twirling a flame on her fingertip, it zig-zag through her fingers effortlessly. With a flick of her wrist, that flame conjured a blazing inferno. The blue flame leaped, spiraled, and danced around her; each second is precise, each movement is organic, each turn with it’s whirl are calculated.

So far, so good. A smug smile playing on her lips. Now, It’s time to dance with the lightning.

As she extended her arm, her fingers splayed. She shifted her weight effortlessly, her feet gliding over the ground as if she were part of the wind itself. With a swift, circular motion of her hands, the lightning followed, spiraling around her in a mesmerizing display of control and power. She transitioned into a series of quick, explosive movements, a sharp turn of her body directed the lightning outward in an stunning arc. She finally point to a giant rock to blast all the lightning with, cracking it into two.

The courtyard erupted into spontaneous applause. Each clap full of admiration, awe and maybe a bit of fear: just how Azula liked it. As she stood amidst the blue flames, her chest swelling with pride, her head held a touch higher.

She scanned the crowd, searching for one face in particular, yours, hoping to catch a glimpse of your stupid amazed face. Her ‘fiery’ performance, as you repeatedly called it, was a spectacle to proof your dare. You had dare her to split the rock with only a finger, and she did just that.

As her eyes darted through the sea of mostly aged and ragged men faces, her heart sank slightly. You were nowhere to be seen. Instead, her eyes met her father’s. Their eyes locked, he stood, a stoic figure– his face betraying no emotion. He gave a subtle nod, it was terse, almost reluctant approval. But she knew almost it’s not good enough.

Finally, she had to maintained her composure, her face now a mask of indifference mirroring her father’s. With a graceful bow to the audience, she let the flames die down, taking her leave from there.

The performance had ended, and the courtyard was still buzzing with the leftovers of Azula’s fiery display. Azula had trained for this. Hours and hours that turned to days and days then it became to several weeks to months. But she felt nothing paid that hard work, those time were wasted. This performance was not a big deal, it was not a green light to be a Firelord either. Yet, she can’t help but failing.

Ty Lee rushed up to her, “Azula! There you are,”

Ty Lee already brimming her words of amazement with uncontainable energy, “The way you move the lightning and those dancing flames?! It was so amazing!” she exclaimed, her voice echoed the corridors.

Azula nodded in acknowledgment, “Naturally,” casually shrugging.

“You did well,” Mai soon approached with a small smile, “As always, you know how to leave an impression.”

“Leave an impression?” Ty Lee said, “She set the standard sky-high! Oh, Y/N should’ve seen this. Y/N would’ve been totally wowed!”

Azula almost jolt by the mention of your name. As if she had electrocute herself with her own lightning. Her eyes immediately glare at Ty Lee, usually fierce and controlled, but now it flickered with absolute disappointment. “Y/N or not, the performance would have been the same. I don’t perform for anyone’s approval.”

Azula felt weird. It was something bittersweet. It’s simple in words actually, she just long for your eyes to witness her element; her elegance and her perfection–all blended it in her ‘fiery’ performance, to share the countless training sessions into triumph–but now felt incomplete. Was that too much to ask?

“Maybe not,” Mai observed wryly, “but sometimes certain eyes matter more than other, don’t they?”

Azula’s gaze hardened to Mai, a silent glare that spoke volumes. But Mai was unfazed by the glare, somehow she was used to it.

“Y/N is busy with the date,” Ty Lee tried to defend, completely oblivious to the unspoken glares, “but anyway, we are going to celebrate! What about a dinner in your honor? Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Azula momentarily lost in the fact that you are busy with something that you had to bail on her performance–wait, what is the date? She decided to ask that later on and quickly set that aside as she straightened her posture, the commanding edge returning to her voice, “A celebration in order, indeed. Lead the way.”

As they started to follow to wherever Ty Lee’s are leading them towards, Azula still let her eyes momentarily drifted back to the empty space where she had hoped to see you. It was a fleeting glance, one filled with a mix of hope and resignation, before she finally turned away.

———

You finally made it to the place, the place your date will be waiting. You stepped into the restaurant, and was immediately taken aback in an atmosphere of elegance. It was bustling with energy, each table almost occupied by well-dressed patrons engaged in lively conversation, the clinking of fine china and glassware creating a harmonious backdrop. Soft, golden lightning bathed the room, casting a warm glow over the sophisticatedly decorated interior, accentuating it’s luxury.

Though you were no stranger to luxury, having spent considerable time in Azula’s opulent surroundings, the ambiance here was a refreshing change—to say the least. This place was a modern version of luxury you’re used to—sleek, polished, and contemporary. It was less about showcasing heritage or history, it is simply about aestheticity.

Comparing this to the Fire Nation’s palace, specifically Azula’s bedroom or her study room—where every corner told a story, every tapestry and artifact held a piece of history. You had always been fascinated by that world, a world where elegance was defined by it’s connection to the past, it’s cultural significance to the Fire Nation. But, if you had to choose: you knew your heart leaned more on the timeless, old and dusty artifacts in no time since you are such a history nerd.

Your mind took you back to the palace. Your mind showed you her face—that damned face. Her stupid beautiful face with her arrogance, her high ego that seemed impenetrable, and her refusal to be vulnerable with you. Then you remembered that today was her ‘fiery’ performance, where she practically show off her skill and power that was undeniably impressive, yet tinged with haughtiness.

You had deliberately missed it or rather bailed on it. It was a decision that is not easy but felt necessary. You believed Azula needed a lesson, a taste of what it felt like to have someone important to you not acknowledge your hard work, no matter how small or grand it is.

You remembered the countless moments when Azula had to let her ego overshadow their friendship. Azula always keeping a part of herself hidden, always maintaining that edge of superiority, always strive to perfection. You don’t need that perfect princess of Fire Nation; you had always been attracted by what makes Azula human. You love her intense passion, which made her arrogant but also made her deeply committed and earnest. You love her insecurities that she rarely voice out loud—but once she do, you savor her little doubts and asked your thoughts on it. You love her hidden softness in her usual confident and prideful exterior. You simply just love her, by her flaws.

Now, you are searching for a sign if you meant more to Azula than just another person in the friend group. You are reaching for cracks to Azula’s walls, to find a tender glimpse that you, more than anyone else, held a special place in her heart.

This date is more than just a dinner. It is a statement, a silent rebellion against Azula unyielding façade. Tonight, you wanted to feel that sting of absence, the pang of being ignored. You wanted Azula to realize what she was potentially losing. It was a gamble—provoking someone as strong-willed as Azula—but you felt it was necessary.

You had only one question: Will this finally drop Azula’s barriers?

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You said to the receptionist, “I believe I’m expected by Chan?”

“Oh yes, Y/N! He’s been looking forward to your arrival. Just follow me, I’ll take you to him.” The receptionist glanced up at you, there was a brief flicker of recognition in her eyes—maybe too quick to be merely courteous acknowledgment from a staff member to a guest. In a place where the staff typically meets countless strangers daily, such a look is a bit odd, as if the receptionist had been expecting you, or perhaps knew of you in some way beyond the scope of a simple dinner reservation.

The receptionist weaved her way between elegantly set tables and past animated diners as you followed her through the bustling restaurant. The receptionist moved with a practiced ease, guiding you through with a casual grace.

“Our chef has some delightful specials tonight," she mentioned, gesturing subtly towards the kitchen, where the harmonious chaos of culinary creation was just visible. “Is there a particular type of cuisine you're fond of, or are you looking to be surprised?”

“I’m open to recommendations. Surprise is part of the experience, isn’t it?” you said. You wondered how, in a busy restaurant like this one, the staff could still afford to be so casual and engage in small talk. Perhaps she was just exceptionally good at her job.

The receptionist nodded, her smile still in place. But you caught a quick, almost imperceptible tap on her pocket. It was a weird gesture, a brief one though—but it made you questioned more. Was there more to this receptionist than met the eye?

No, no, you said to yourself. I’m here on a date. You shook off the thought as a byproduct of your cautious instinct.

Reaching a well-appointed table, the receptionist present you to Chan, who is apparently the restaurant owner, "Y/N, welcome!" Chan exclaimed, rising from his chair with a warm smile. He leaned in to peck your cheeks in a friendly greeting, then smoothly slid aside, gesturing gracefully to the chair, inviting you to take a seat.

You sat as the receptionist departed, you found your gaze subconsciously trailing the woman’s retreating figure. There was something about her you could not figure out, something like a hidden agenda beneath her polished exterior that catch your curiosity.

“I’m glad you could make it!” Chan interrupted your thoughts. You scolded yourself for possibly reading too much into a simple exchange, a habit you often fell back on— especially now with your thoughts deeply entangled in how Azula might respond to this evening.

“Well, thank you for inviting me, Chan. I heard so many great things about your restaurant.”

“How could I not invite someone as knowledgeable as you in culinary arts? I’ve been looking forward to our conversation all day.” His gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than necessary.

“And might I add, you look absolutely stunning tonight. Guess it’s not just the food that’s going to be exceptional.” His smile broadening, tone alight. He leaned slightly towards you, trying to close the physical and metaphorical gap between you two. His gestures were smooth and a well-rehearsed play.

The dinner progressed with a steady flow of conversation and laughter. Chan, ever the entertaining host, amused you with tales of the restaurant’s origins and his personal journey in the culinary world. Each story was accompanied by a detail explanation, his knowledge in arts and history were evident— that made you intrigued, his enthusiasm were entirely contagious too.

“I'm definitely interested in those stories,” you confessed, “Did you know I stumbled upon a recipe from Princess Azula’s ancestral line? It’s amazing to see how food connects with history!"

"No kidding? That’s the kind of stuff that makes my job cool, right? We should totally whip that up sometime. Might impress the Princess or even the Firelord, too. You know, they got quite the taste for the authentic."

You nodded eagerly, you stand up by what he said, your smile brightened, “It's all about the details, isn’t it? She values that in everything, food included.” Your gaze briefly flickered to the door, half-expecting, half-hoping for her to burst in—but the door remained closed.

“Absolutely,” he said, as you two were finishing dessert, “Speaking of details, how about after dinner, we take a closer look at some of the exclusive wines I’ve got? A private tasting, just for us. It said dated a while back to Avatar Roku’s age! Could be a nice way to wind down the evening, you know?”

His invitation was clear, his gaze intent on you, slightly dimming. The suggestion was tempting, it was wrapped in the complex of his stories that you really enjoyed and it was a possibility to continue your fun conversation. But it was also unmistakably laced with an intention that went beyond a simple wine tasting.

Chan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a suggestive whisper, his hand finding reasons to brush against yours under the impression of emphasizing a point. He was intruding your personal space, his body language more assertive than courteous.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your mind’s racing. You were aware of Chan’s motives. And now he was trying his best to lure you into accepting his request. He sensed your hesitation; thus escalate his flirtations even more.

You look around for some form of silent support. You realized you might get none. The staff, loyal to Chan, were unlikely to intervene. The patrons were too absorbed in their own worlds, oblivious in your discomfort. Then, you locked eyes with the woman you noticed earlier— the receptionist.

Her gaze was intense, not just observing the scene between you and Chan, but seemingly focused on you yourself. In that brief eye contact, you felt a strange sense of safety—a little bit. The receptionist, whatever her role or reason for being there, was a witness, an outsider to the unfolding scenario.

“You know,” Chan said, “I once threw a party back in the day, at my parent’s place.”

He grew bolder; you could feel it. He was getting impatient with your hesitance, so he decided to shift tactics.

“There was this girl, like you,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Sophisticated, smart, but impulsive. We hit it off, and well, let’s just say, we shared a memorable kiss that night.”

He paused for effect, his smile grew. “But here’s the twist— suddenly, we found the house in ruins. Turn out, she had a bit of a wild side. Wrecked the place. My parents were furious and I was too. But she still live up here,” he pointed to his forehead. “I couldn’t help admiring her spirit, now.”

The story, seemingly harmless, but you knew there was something intended; what is he trying to say? You knew he was subtly warning you of your next move. It was a veiled attempt to gauge your response. The clock ticked on, each minute stretching longer than the last. You found yourself at a crossroads. Part of you wanted to put an end to the evening, to assert your boundaries firmly. Yet another part, the strategist within you, contemplated the potential outcome.

Screw it. You went this far. Screw you, Azula.

“I’d be delighted to see your winery,” you said, voice steady. You made your decision. Chan’s face lit up, he giggled boyishly.

You instantly pictured Azula’s reaction— would it be jealousy, anger, or indifference? The uncertainty was agonizing yet exhilarating. You doubt the effectiveness of this decision; Azula was a fortress of composure and arrogance. Could this be the key to crush her?

Your thoughts swirled as you left the restaurant, hand in hand with Chan. You decided the night was young, and the possibilities were endless. There was no turning back now.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a woman, disheveled and frantic, burst through the restaurant doors, clutching a young boy in her arms. The boy was pale, his condition visibly dire. The restaurant, a moment ago, a peaceful haven of lively diners, plunged into chaos.

“Help!” The woman cried loudly. “My son! He is sick because of your food!”

Chan, caught off guard, hurried back inside, with you following closely behind. Your heart pounded. The mother’s anguish was blatant, her voice breaking through the murmurs of the startled diners.

“Ma’am, please, calm down. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Tell me what happened.” Chan said, trying to maintain control.

“We eat your leftovers, and now he’s like this! You did this to him!” she cried out, almost hysterically. She clutched the poor boy close, her eyes were wild with panic and desperation.

“Everyone, please listen!” the mother continued, “This isn’t just about me and my son. It’s about you too, how can you eat here, not knowing if your food is safe? My son is dying because of this place!” Her voice cut through the room, her desperation resonating with every patron.

Chan seemed irritated, he blocked her from reaching the diners, “Ma’am, I understand you’re upset, but making unfounded accusations won’t help. Let’s discuss this privately and find a solution, yes?”

The mother, ignoring Chan’s presence altogether, turned to other diners. “Would you all just sit there if it was your child? He was fine before eating the leftovers, but look at him now!”

“I’ll assure you, our food is prepared to the highest standards. We’ll call for medical help right away, but please, let’s not cause a scene.” Chan tried again, though he was visibly flustered.

“A scene?” The mother shrieked, “My child is dying! How can you talk about scenes? You need to take responsibility!”

Chan struggling to maintain his professional demeanor, signaled his staff to intervene, hoping to move the mother and her son away from the public eye.

You stood there, a bystander. You froze from the unfolding scene before you. Your plan to provoke Azula suddenly seeming insignificant in the face of such raw human vulnerability. It was heart-wrenching, a stark contrast to the calculated world you’re used to, a world you shared with Azula.

And you loved this. You would love to see it in Azula.

You heard Chan sighed. His earlier confidence had evaporated. This was not how he had envisioned the evening—what was supposed to be a simple date with a girl had spiraled into his career nightmare. He looked back to you, offering a small smile that he tried doing genuinely. He looked tired. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

As the tension of the restaurant simmered, the sudden arrival of men, dressed in crisp, light blue uniforms with the emblem of public health department prominently displayed. The health inspectors. What are they doing in here?

Accompanying the inspectors were a couple of royal palace guards, adding a layer of urgency to the situation. These officials grabbed the attention of all eyes in the place.

What the Agni is this about?

“Good evening, Mr. Chan,” the health inspector said, “We’ve received an urgent complaint regarding a health hazard in this establishment. We need to conduct an immediate inspection.”

Chan with his face a mix of confusion and panic, quickly stepped forward to greet them. “This must be some misunderstanding. Our kitchen adheres to the highest of standards. Can we discuss this privately, perhaps?”

“I’m afraid this is a matter of public safety. We must proceed with the inspection now. In full view of your patrons.” He surveyed the restaurant with keen eyes.

“Please, let’s handle this discretely,” Chan practically begged and almost fell to his knees, “I promise, whatever the issue, we’ll cooperate fully. There’s no need for a public spectacle.”

“Our priority is the health and safety of the public, Mr. Chan,” said he firmly, “We need to inspect your kitchen and restrict all activities within. We are ensuring that there are no violations.”

The health inspectors, without warning, walked towards the kitchen, with a pleading Chan following closely behind them. As you stood by the door, left, deserted, you had no idea what to do now. The restaurant buzzed with whispers and speculation from the patrons. The air was thick with tension, drama after drama are unfolding way too fast.

The timing of the inspection was too precise, too perfectly aligned with the chaos the mother had caused.

You grew suspicious to the inspectors. You observed them; they moved with an air of the outmost confidence and purpose that seemed beyond the usual protocol. Their approach was methodical, almost as if they were following a script.

Moreover, the presence of the guards, royal guards. What are their business with this?

These details, all in different kind that if were put together—it formed a picture. A scheme. An orchestration. You had aligned it all to form it’s real essence—which point to her involvement.

You knew Azula’s penchant for dramatic flair; you knew this was controlled and design thoroughly, unyielding and impactful; you knew the guards were a show of force, a tactic that Azula often employed to assert dominance and control. And the mother? Was that her plan too?

This wasn’t just a simple health inspection; it was a revenge in a larger game she recently launched, in perfect motion. From this, you knew that this night was far from over, and that the aftermath of Azula’s actions would ripple far beyond the walls of the restaurant.

“Ms. Y/N,” a guard spoke, “Princess Azula request your presence at the palace immediately.”

You expected it, but you were also caught off guard. You were about to dismiss the guard when the receptionist from earlier appeared beside him. She gave you a subtle nod, her expression betraying nothing, yet is trying to tell something. In that instant, you realized the truth—the receptionist was more than she seemed, likely a spy placed by Azula, to monitor your movements.

You acknowledged Azula’s cunning and what a dick move she pulled. You can’t help but respect this carefully designed scheme but frustrated to the supervision that limits your own autonomy. The latter emotion got the best of you than the former. “Tell Princess Azula I’m not at her beck and call. I won’t be going to the palace.”

The guard’s expression remained impassive, but it was the receptionist who stepped forward, breaking her professional facade. In a swift, startling motion, she slapped you across the face, the sound echoed sharply.

“You don’t understand,” she said urgently, “You need to come with us now. It’s not a request.”

The slap left a burning sensation on your cheek. It was unexpected and forceful. The onlookers in the restaurant paused, the scene unfolding before them adding to the night’s surreal quality.

Realizing that resistance might escalate the situation further, you reluctantly nodded in agreement, “Fine, I’ll come. But this isn’t the end of it.” You shifted your eyes to the receptionist, she was somehow surprised herself. Her actions, It was a breach of protocol.

As they escorted you away from the restaurant, you felt a sense of being a pawn in a larger game, a feeling that was becoming all too familiar. ——— Azula sat calmly in her opulent study room, her posture relaxed, unpinning her hairpin and let her hair fall. She was waiting for you, expecting you to burst through the door at any moment, fueled by your anger and frustration.

Azula had done the evening’s event with precision, pushing you to your limits. She anticipated that this act would be the peak to finally see your raw astonishment that she believed you harbored for her.

The door opened, but not with force or drama that Azula had expected. You entered quietly, your expression unreadable, your usual kindled spirit replaced by an unsettling calm. Azula’s lips curved into a sly smile, intrigued by this new side of you.

“Well, well, Y/N,” Azula started, “I must say, I’m terribly sorry. I was expecting a grand entrance. Did you lose your fire along the date?”

You remained silent, your eyes locking with Azula’s. There was a depth in your gaze, a tumult of emotions you harbored beneath.

“Come now, don’t hold back my account. I know my little game at the restaurant must have… stirred things up for you.”

“Your games are getting old, Princess,” you finally replied, “Do you always need to manipulate situations to feel in control?”

Azula leaned forward, breaking a genuine smile. You hadn’t change at all. And Azula is enjoying this.

“Oh, Y/N, manipulation is such a harsh word. I prefer,” she paused, “strategic planning.”

She saw your faint smile, she knew you would not backing down. “Strategic planning that involves putting a homeless family in distress? You’re losing your touch.”

“On the contrary, I’d say my touch is quite effective. It brought you here, didn’t it?”

You side eyed her, “Maybe I’m just here to tell you that your ‘strategic planning’ is backfiring. You’re not as in control as you think.”

Azula’s eyes narrowed, she was both admired and irritated by your resilience. She had long for your anguish to confront her, but your composed defiance was a curveball she hadn’t anticipated.

She sighed. “Or maybe you’re just afraid to admit that you enjoy my little game. Admit it, Y/N, you love the challenge as much as I do.”

You walked to her, leaning in close, lowering your voice. “There’s a fine line between a challenge and a reckless game, Princess. Be careful not to cross it.”

Azula waved her hand dismissively, “Always so serious. Where’s the fun in playing it safe?”

“This isn’t funny, Azula,” your voice impatient, “Your little game at the restaurant, using that woman and her son—it’s cruel. You manipulated their distress for your own amusement.”

“I’m being cruel to be kind. I gave the boy the best medical attention. Plus, the sister received a job now—but a shame it will be in ruins. Anyway, There’s no need for you to worry about that.”

Your face redden. Azula could sense you’re infuriated. “How dare you use someone’s vulnerability for your own selfish ends? These are people live. Our people!”

Azula, usually unfazed, was taken aback. She felt goosebumps in your intense voice, a seriousness that was rarely encountered.

“You think I don’t know that?” Azula raised from her seat, “Everything I do, I do for a reason. You of all people should understand that.”

“Understand? What is there to understand about exploiting a desperate mother and her dying child? I want to see you vulnerable for once, Azula. I want to see you hurt, to see you break.” You roared as you were shaking. There was a palpable silence in the room as your words hung in the air. It was a raw, emotional confession, one that revealed the depth of your desperate goal to that date.

Azula did not know how to respond, your emotion was too intense for her to handle. Azula felt a twinge of something unfamiliar. Was it guilt? Regret? For a moment, her fortress of composure wavered.

“Is that what you really want, Y/N? To see me broken?” she asked, surprisingly soft and weak.

“I don’t know what I want anymore.” You choked, “But I can’t keep doing this. Not with you, not like this.” Tears, unbidden, spilled from your eyes, your resilience crumbling under the weight of your emotions.

Azula stood there, feeling a sudden urge to reach out, to offer comfort. It was an odd desire that clashed with her self-restraint, her need to always be in control.

You turned to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?” something within Azula compelled her to made you stay. It was a surge of emotion, random and messy, unlike anything she had ever allowed herself to feel. She rushed to you with a determined stride.

You suddenly paused at the door, looked back at Azula, watery eyes. “Every game has it risk, right, Azula?” your voice faltered, barely a whisper.

“What are you getting at, Y/N?”

Azula watched you looked down, thinking something. “In the next of your act, I promise you it would include real danger—a situation I’ll go that even you can’t control.”

Azula scoffed, “You wouldn’t dare, you’re not that reckless.”

That took so much to say for Azula. She half-expected to see your ego arise from the compliment. But as she looked into your eyes, she saw something that gave her a pause. There was no trace of the usual sarcasm or defiance. Instead, there was a deep, unsettling seriousness.

“Y/N, you’re joking, come on laugh it out,” Her heart pounded. “If you’re trying to provoke me, there are better ways.”

You remained silent, your expression unwavering. You turned to leave for real now, your steps resolute.

Panicked, Azula lunged towards the door. Swift and forceful, she slammed the door shut, effectively blocking your path of escape. Her heart raced with adrenaline and unusually breathless.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N. Literally and figuratively.” Azula searched your eyes, looking for a sign. But all she found was an empty resolve that send a chill down her spine.

You finally looked back at her, your voice cold and distant, “Sometimes, you have to get burned to see the light. You’ll understand when it’s too late, Azula. When you’ve finally lost.”

Azula felt your words like a physical blow, her face twitching in pain, her mask completely shattered. She knew this was a trap. But the threat brought something in the depth of her own feelings—the potential cost of losing you, forever.

You two just looked at each other, thick with absolute silence.

“Don’t be stupid.” Azula gritted her teeth.

You pushed Azula away. Then your figure slipped from the door with a slam. The room felt colder. The air was suddenly thick that almost made Azula suffocate. The door closed, leaving Azula alone with her thoughts.

The game had change, and for the first time, Azula was uncertain of her next move.

#azula #avatar: the last airbender #atla x reader #azula x reader #azula imagine #azula fic #atla #avatar azula #atla azula #avatar the last airbender #princess azula x reader #fire nation #avatar imagine #princess azula #atla princess azula #avatar fic #princess azula imagine

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eiightysixbaby · 8 months

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Idk if your requests are open- Eddie and rock singer!reader? They both perform at the hideout, which is how they met, and then he finds out she goes to Hawkins High as well. Rest is up to you 😊 p

hi love! thanks for your request, I adore this! I hope you enjoy my take on it 🫶🏻

Eddie genuinely can’t believe his eyes. There’s no way - no way - a girl as gorgeous as you lives in Hawkins and he’s never seen you before. There’s no way this gorgeous girl exists and she can sing like a goddess. But, here you are, performing with your band at the Hideout on the same night he’s performing with Corroded Coffin.

You’re doing a cover of Barracuda by Heart, killing it if Eddie’s being honest. Your voice works so well for the song and your energy is so captivating, he’s actually got heart shaped eyes as he watches you command the tiny little stage. It puts the set they just played to shame, the way you draw a crowd - that isn’t just full of drunk people.

Gareth knocks his fist against Eddie’s shoulder, breaking him out of his trance. Eddie glances at him, unwilling to tear his eyes away from you for too long.

“Dude, they’re fucking amazing,” Gareth says emphatically. “That girl can sing.”

“Tell me about it. I genuinely think I found the love of my life,” Eddie replies, shifting his gaze back onto you as if to prove a point.

He watches as you belt into the microphone, finishing the song and giving an enthusiastic bow before you and the rest of your band leave the stage.

“Go talk to her, man!” Jeff encourages, leaning over the table to grab Eddie’s forearm, giving it a slight shake.

Eddie shakes his head, curly hair flopping around his face. “Nah, I dunno, man,” he starts, but the guys don’t even let him finish.

“Don’t say she wouldn’t be into you,” Gareth interjects “because she literally did a cover of Dio earlier. That girl was made for you.”

“And she’s wearing a Metallica shirt,” Jeff says.

“And I caught her watching our set,” says Grant. “But she certainly wasn’t looking at any one of us except you, Ed,” he laughs.

“Okay, alright, point taken,” Eddie snaps, raising his hands up to silence the group.

He knows he should talk to you. He knows he’ll regret it forever if he doesn’t. And yet, when he sees you sit down with your band mates at the table beside his, he feels his stomach do somersaults. Your laugh sounds like sunshine. Like butterflies and rainbows and glitter and everything good. It simultaneously makes him nauseous and elated. He feels himself go rigid with nerves as you talk mere feet away from him, rambling excitedly to your friends about how well they did up on stage. He feels himself literally turn to stone when Gareth stands up, sidling up to your table and congratulating you all on an awesome performance.

Because Eddie knows Gareth, and he knows he’s not just innocently praising you guys, no. He’s on a mission to make Eddie crawl out of his skin, and he’s about to achieve it.

“Yeah, me and my friend Eddie were just talking about how great you guys sounded. Isn’t that right, Ed?” he says, giving Eddie a wickedly cheeky grin as Eddie turns to look at him. He’d be scowling if it weren’t for the fact that you are also looking right at him.

He’s like a deer in headlights, lips parted slightly as he fully meets your eyes. He blubbers like a fish for a moment before Jeff literally kicks him under the table, waking him up.

“Uh, y-yeah, oh yeah. You guys were incredible, put us to shame really,” he forces out a laugh, tries to force a sense of ease into his voice, which is horribly ironic.

You seem to buy it, though, or at least you don’t comment on it if you can tell that he’s about ready to tunnel underground and leave this bar forever. Instead, you beam at him, a brilliant and gorgeous smile that would have his knees buckling if he’d been standing.

“Thanks, Eddie, but you guys truly killed it. We couldn’t have possibly competed with that Master of Puppets solo you delivered,” you say excitedly, talking with your hands. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you say, leaning forward on your table, extending a hand as far as it will go for him to shake.

He totally notices how you didn’t extend a hand to Gareth, oh boy does he notice. He only sweats a little bit as he reaches his hand to meet yours, shaking it firmly. “It’s great to meet you,” he says, smiling softly, butterflies still raging in his stomach.

“You should’ve seen him when he was learning that solo,” Grant interjects, “holed himself up in his room for weeks until he mastered it.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do anything else but practice. I swear, he probably didn’t shower for day-” Jeff is cut off by an elbow to his ribs, Eddie turning to him with an expression that says ‘you’re dead if you keep talking’.

“Ooookay, anyways,” Eddie interrupts, his cheeks going pink.

His face feels hot as you laugh at the image his friends had put in your brain. But you aren’t truly laughing at him, Eddie can tell, and your response only affirms it. “I don’t blame you, it’s one of those songs that just infects you, right? Your hard work clearly paid off, too,” you say, still smiling brightly.

Eddie feels his nerves ease a bit, and he knows he’s in good company with you. You aren’t phased by his awkwardness, you don’t even seem to notice. Eventually, your friends and his friends all leave the tables, walking over to play some of the pinball machines tucked in one of the corners of the bar. It’s just you and him now, silence washing over the scene as he finds he doesn’t really know what to say.

“So, uh, you from Hawkins? I’ve never seen you around,” he wonders, voice cracking mid-sentence. He wants to slam his head against the table top until it cracks open, but he perseveres.

“I actually moved here at the start of summer,” you say, setting down the glass of water you’d been sipping on. “Moved in right next door to our drummer, caught him playing in his garage the one day, and the rest was history. They needed a singer for the band, and I decided, why not?” you smile, reminiscing on those first days of friendship. “Anyway, I’m due to start at Hawkins High next week for the new school year. I’ll be a senior.”

Eddie’s heart thumps in his chest at that, giddiness brewing in his chest at the thought of seeing you again. “Oh, no shit! I go to Hawkins High, too. I’ll be, uh, I’ll be doing my senior year…. for the… third time,” he winces, earning a soft laugh out of you.

“Third times a charm, isn’t that what they say?” you beam at him, resting a hand on his forearm gently and squeezing once before pulling away. Your soft eyes meet his, and he feels all of his worries melt away. There isn’t a hint of judgment in your voice, in your gaze, and it’s genuinely a weird feeling to Eddie. He feels like he could tell you anything.

God, he’s screwed.

Eddie normally hates the first day of school. Everyone bubbling with an excitement he doesn’t feel, talking to their friends as if they haven’t seen each other in ages, when this town is so small it’d be next to impossible to not have run into each other over the summer. School to him was just a place where people would pick on him, try to tear him apart, outcast him. Yeah, the first day of school has never been Eddie’s favorite day. Until today.

He finds himself getting up before his alarm even goes off, the anticipation of possibly getting to see you taking over his brain. You hadn’t spoken since that night at the Hideout, he didn’t get your number like an idiot, and needless to say he’s been dying to talk to you again. His friends gave him plenty of hell for not setting up a date with you or something, but he just couldn’t do it so impulsively. Now, though? Now, he wants to work up the nerve to do it, and he’s hoping he’ll get the chance to see you throughout the school day.

His uncle Wayne notices the unusual skip in his step, the small smile tugging at his lips as he prepares his breakfast for the day.

“What’s gotten into you, boy? Usually I’m dragging your ass outta bed so you’re not late for first period,”

“Just, uh, just excited to start my last year of high school,” Eddie says, playing it off. “One day closer to graduating and leaving that place forever, huh?”

Wayne doesn’t buy it, knows Eddie’s been dreading doing senior year over for a second time, but he doesn’t press the issue. Just gives him a slight nod and goes out to the porch to drink his coffee.

Eddie flies through his morning routine; scarfs down his breakfast, chugs a mug of coffee very ungracefully, showers and gets dressed. He puts on a Dio shirt, thinking back to the cover of Holy Diver you did with your band. A conversation starter, he thinks to himself. He grabs his keys, heading for his van with his backpack and his little tin lunch box full of drugs in tow - because, y’know, he won’t turn down the chance to make a few extra bucks today if the opportunity presents itself.

The halls of Hawkins High are bustling when he arrives, full of giddy freshmen going over their schedules with their friends, teachers greeting the students, the jocks being obnoxiously loud as per usual. But this time, Eddie doesn’t feel an overwhelming sense of dread consuming him. His eyes scan the sea of people for your familiar face, but he doesn’t see you.

He can’t really be disappointed yet - there’s tons of students here, it’s unlikely you’d be the first one he’d run into. But then first period passes and you aren’t in his class. And then second, and third. Halfway through the day, and still nothing. What if you don’t share a single period with him? What if he doesn’t get the chance to see you at all?

He trudges into the cafeteria at his designated lunch hour, mood lifting a little when he sees Gareth and Grant waving at him eagerly from the table they’d claimed.

“What’s up, man? You look a little down in the dumps,” Gareth says, frowning a little at the older boy.

“He’s sad cause he hasn’t seen the love of his life yet,” Jeff says, coming up behind Eddie with his tray of food, startling him.

“Oh shut up,” Eddie mumbles, taking his seat and pulling his sandwich from his lunch bag.

He’s not really listening to the conversation his friends dive into, he’s too busy scanning the room for you. His eyes roam over the various tables, separated into their designated cliques. He spots the band geeks, the cheerleaders, the basketball team - just the way it always is. There’s a sea of people in here but he doesn’t find the one he’s looking for. Just as he’s about to lose hope, to resign to the fact that you’ve probably been assigned to a different lunch period, he hears a familiar voice calling his name.

“Eddie?” your voice calls, and he turns in his seat.

You wave eagerly at him when his eyes land on you, and it makes his stomach flip. You look perfect, dressed a bit more preppy than you had been at the Hideout, but still not untrue to yourself.

“I’m so glad I ran into you! Love the shirt, by the way,” you tell him, and he feels his cheeks heat.

“Y/N, hey,” he says, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat. “It’s so great to see you again, how’re you liking Hawkins High?”

“Eh, it’s alright so far. The jocks are extra annoying and Ms. O’Donnell seems like she’ll be a pain in my ass, but I’ll push through,” you say, still smiling despite your complaints.

“Don’t get me started on that woman,” Eddie says, shaking his head and laughing.

You greet the rest of the guys, chatting briefly with all of them about band stuff and what classes you’re taking. Eddie watches you, listens to that gorgeous laugh of yours as you exchange banter with his friends. He’s got stars in his eyes every time you glance over at him.

Soon enough you decide you need to head back to your table, wanting to make sure you have enough time to eat your food. “It was great to see you guys again, we’ll have to get together sometime soon!” you say, waving pointedly at Eddie as you retreat to your own seat with your own friends.

Eddie wants to smack himself for not making a move, not asking you out on a date. The opportunity slipped right through his fingers. He doesn’t even need to look at the guys to know they’re all staring at him, ready to deliver various quips about how he had his chance right there.

“Don’t say shit, or I’ll make the next Hellfire campaign a nightmare for all of you,” he threatens, pointing a ringed finger at the three of them.

The table goes silent, each of the guys suddenly extremely interested in their meals, none of them daring another glance in Eddie’s direction.

The rest of the school day drags. Eddie knows he’ll see you again, he knows it wasn’t his only shot to ask you out, but he disappointed himself by losing the nerve to speak up. What if he flounders every time he sees you? What if someone else snatches you up before he can get the balls to try? He absentmindedly floats through his last few periods, staring into space as he daydreams about you.

Finally, the last bell rings, saving him from purgatory. He packs up his things and shuffles out of his classroom, ready to go home and just sleep away his self-pity.

Then, he sees you. You’re about to head out the door of the building, backpack slung over your shoulders. A fire ignites beneath his feet, a gnawing feeling that tells him he can’t let you get away this time. He picks up his pace as he heads in your direction, sneakers squeaking on the freshly polished floors. He doesn’t give himself the time to second guess it. He calls your name, and you turn, eyes shining when you realize it’s him.

“Eddie, hi, what’s up?” you ask, tilting your head to the side a little as you both step out of the way of the crowds of students who are eager to leave for the day.

“Hey, um, I was just wondering if… maybe you’d want to swing by the diner or something? For dinner tonight?” he asks, his palms sweating as he speaks.

For once, he thinks he’s made you nervous. You glance away from him for a moment, chewing your lip as you hold back a smile.

“I’d love to,” you say, and he feels an immense weight lifting off of his shoulders. He feels like he could fly right now if he wanted to.

“I can pick you up at around, say five-thirty?” he questions, waiting for your approval. He shifts his weight on his feet, hands fidgeting with one of the straps of his book bag.

“Okay, yeah,” you agree, pulling a piece of paper and pen from your backpack and scribbling your address down, handing it to him. “I’ll see you then, Eddie,” you grin. Then, you lean closer, your mouth hovering beside his ear. “Maybe after dinner you can teach me how to play Master of Puppets,” you say quietly, pulling back with a slight smirk on your face.

He doesn’t get the chance to respond before you’re gone, pushing the doors open and walking through the parking lot. He looks down at the paper you’d handed him, sparkly purple ink from your gel pen gleaming up at him.

And yeah, Eddie’s so fucking screwed with you. But there’s no way he’s letting you out of his grip now.

#leah’s got mail 💌#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb

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jgroffdaily · 22 days

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The full quote from Ncuti Gatwa talking about Jonathan in Attitude Magazine (from dailyjgroff on Twitter).

The cast is wild, and very queer. What’s it like working with Jinkx Monsoon and Jonathan Groff?

Incredible, incredible. They brought such depth, talent and creativity. I mean, Jinkx is playing a super villain and one of the most powerful that the Doctor has ever faced. She filled that role with such theatrical energy, it was incredible. She had just come off Broadway. How she was using her voice, body, all the tools in her acting toolkit… It was incredible to see that energy lock on in a camera space. For me, as a theatre actor, I was like, ‘This is just really, really, really great to see someone’s craft so finely tuned and placed so well in this space.’ She is a formidable foe character-wise, and also just a great actor to learn from.

Jonathan Groff brought something to the show that I don’t think we’ve seen in a long time, which will make sense when it’s released. But yeah, it definitely brings out a new side to the Doctor. It was really nice to see the Doctor vulnerable. Jonathan is so talented. He has such an ease to him and is such a kind, kind, kind person anyway. Seeing the world enriched with these incredible queer performers, bringing elements of themselves to the table, was amazing. The world which Russell’s creating is so perfect

#jonathan groff #ncuti gatwa #doctor who

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

Little Lad

Synopsis: One where Harry has to take care of his baby on his own for the first time

More of my work

Little Emir was just nine months old and already a big mama's boy.

Harry was very jealous of that really, both ways, that little stole away his wife, and he clearly loves his mum more. But he also cherishes that, seeing his bany have such and amazing relationship with his Mummy already.

YN owned one of the most busy and known Bakery Cafe in the city, which meant her being busy with work most of the time though she still made time for her family. She had a last minute client come in with a huge wedding cake request, which her and her team of course did not deny. But that meant she sad to spend all night at bakery to het the order ready. His anxiety started to settle in when she called in after lunch to tell him she will home very late.

Harry can get through this, right?

He have been on a break since he wife was eight months pregnant. He has been there tending to his little lad along with bis wife. But god did he not except for a full breakdown from his nine month old boy.

All day Harry spent his time, cleaning up after the little boy. It seemed this much when he'd gotten so used to help of his wife. The laundry was a hassle. Washing up the poopy diaper and tiny clothes without anyone by his side.

He had Emir sat by the side on a little blanket with his toys to keep him busy as he did the laundry and dishes for the day. Hearing his little baby talk.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching his lad be all fascinated by this new toy his mum got him, wood measuring spoons which he could chew on too. He threw it across the room, bunch of spoons went straight to the electronic appliances and started crawling his way to the toy. Harry didn't understand his play time one bit. "No, don't go there!" He picked him back up and fetched his toys.

But is Emir going to listen? He's a little baby!

It happened once, twice, thrice. Harry gave up and moved up all the appliances on the counter. Did it make a huge mess in the kitchen? Yes! At least his little boy isn't going to hurt himself.

There were house chores he had to get all done so his wife can come home and rest after working for hours and hours straight. Being a pastry chef is hard enough. He just wanted to help but he couldn't when he has a baby who is full of energy and adrenaline being introduced to his new toys this week.

Emir takes up after him for that, he would agree.

Harry's the same whilst on stage performing to his fans.

But this was exhausting for him to do everything on his own, plus his anxiety was doing nothing but add fuel to the fire. The boy kept running into things or getting himself stuck in things. He never noticed how easy it is to have another person around to help. It's usually him and his wife doing all the mundane things together, it is easy that way as there is always someone with a baby who had just learned to crawl. And he's a quick crawler.

Harry was becoming more and more tired having to run around after him, or calm him down after very fifteen minutes when he'd go to wash some dishes or get the laundry all sorted, or get the cats fed and clean up their litter boxes. Or when he prepared for dinner for himself and the boy.

Emir had a nappy burst when Harry thought he had gotten five minutes to sit down and breathe. The bath time was traumatising, with Emir screaming and crying for no reason. That's when Harry realised it was long after his nap time and he was sleepy and tired and hungry as well.

"It's okay my love, Papa's here for you." He assured his little boy after he had calmed himself down, which wasn't for more than three minutes. "I love you." Harry wiped his teary eyes with the pads of his thumbs, wrapped him up in a towel burrito before taking him to the master bedroom. He got the little lad dressed in his sleep onesie and brought him downstairs.

"I'm so sorry, Papa is having a hard time with your Mumma gone." He shared as he had him settled into his highchair, "I'm trying my very best, I promise." He felt bad.

Seeing Emir's tired eyes teary, as he was almost dozing off to sleep without having been eaten, it was his fault that he couldn't look after his son when his wife is stuck at work. Only if he could keep track of time properly and have fed him first than getting distracted by cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. He felt a heavy pit in his stomach of guilt.

"Come on, Emir eat up then we can go to bed." Harry was feeding the little boy his dinner. He was all strapped up in his high chair, busy playing babbling and smacking his hands on the table still tired and worm out to the fullest.

"Mumma-mumma-mumma." He started his squealing. He learned to call both his parents recently.

"Mummy is working, my baby," Harry talked to him, "is that good?" He cooed watching him take a bite of the little rice porridge he made from YN's mum's recipe. "I know it's not as good as your mum makes it, but we can make it due."

His phone started ringing, "oh look, it's your mummy!" Harry answered the face time call from YN and perched up his phone against Emir's water bottle.

"Hello boys!" YN chirped. Harry saw she was kneading some pink fondant. "Are my lads doing lad things that lads do cause lads are cool?" Harry laughed at that.

"Mamma!" Emir squealed.

"Hello my love, are you eating your dinner?" YN said.

"I don't know how you do this." Harry spoke up.

"What?"

"Feed him, he's so wiggly!" Harry exclaimed trying to give Emir another little spoon full of food. "See! This is why I took up on bottle feeding." YN just laughed. Harry's very afraid to spoon feed him because he's afraid that the metal cutlery is going to hurt his boy somehow. He loves to sit with his with a bottle of milk or formula, that's a good bonding activity as well.

"I probably sound like a horrible person, but — Emir come on, darling!" Harry was close to having a breakdown.

"Harry, it's okay, love. You're doing good he just looks a bit tired." He watched her take her phone and head out of the kitchen telling her employees what to do next whilst she talked for a minute on the call. "It's okay!"

"I don't know, I've been anxious all day." He shared, "you do it all so flawlessly."

Honestly she doesn't. He had seen her make mistakes too but she knows how to quickly move on and fix her mistakes. He didn't know how she does that, really. He reckons it's because she lived with her older brother who's got three kids here in London until she married. She always talked about baby sitting the babies when her brother and his wife would go out, for work or whatever it was.

"And that's okay, okay?" She assured him, "I am so sorry I can't come back home right now. You're already doing so good."

"I hope so, he hasn't eaten anything, I forgot to put him down for a nap earlier as I got caught up with the chores." Harry pouted still trying his best to have his little boy fed. "What do I do!?"

"Harry, look at me," she demanded so he did, "play with him for a bit and then try again. If that doesn't work then give him some formula."

"Okay." He nodded. Emir knocked off the bowl of rice, spilling it all over himself. "Oh god, I'm gonna cry!"

The little boy started laughing finding it humourous.

"Yeah, you find it funny huh?" Harry scoffed. Can he be mad at that adorable face? He placed a kiss on his boy's head.

"Anyway, Harry I'll be home after midnight so please don't wait up for me okay?" YN shared.

"Do you have too much work?" Harry looked concerned looking at his tired wife. Yeah, she hasn't been working that much since Emir's birth, but the breast feeding and everything which comes post delivery was taking a toll on her, physically. He hated to see that. He felt bad to even ask that question.

"No, almost done here." She shared, looking down at her work station, "just a handful of things to sort out then, Jay and Kat will be delivering the cake tomorrow at the venue."

"Okay, drive home, yeah?"

"Mhmm, I will." She nodded, "please don't be hard on yourself. Give him some formula and he'll be off to sleep."

"Yeah. I love you."

"I love you too!" YN blew a kiss each to both her boys before she hung up.

"You're a proper lad, aren't you?" Harry sighed and scooped up his son out of his highchair carefully. "Being so rowdy today."

Emir just laughed and shied away, hiding in his dad's chest. Harry chuckled and brought him in the kitchen with him, propping the baby on his hip he made a bottle of formula. "Let's go lounge on the sofa, hmm?"

Harry got comfy with his baby on the sofa, draping the fluffy throw on the boy to keep him warm. Emir just lied on his chest having his meal all sleepy yet it didn't seem like he wanted to sleep.

"Mumma!" He squealed looking at his dad.

"No, baby I'm Papa." Harey laughed. "Can you say Papa?"

"Papa!" He squealed again.

"Yay!" Harry celebrated, pressing sloppy kisses on his chubby cheeks. "I'm really sorry, my love. I was having a bad day today." He felt guilty for having him wait up for dinner. "I hope you aren't mad at me. Mumma is a really good help, isn't she? But she's stuck at work today. I know we shouldn't rely on her but this was the first time were together, isn't it? We had a lads day in today. Well, more like you had a proper lad day. Where did you get all the energy from, hmm?"

Emir just sighed dramatically, resting his head back on his dad's chest. All snuggled up he was starting to fall asleep.

Harry adores his little boy. He worried the day he was born because he didn't had that love-at-first-sight connection with him. It took him time to learn about him. His little boy was a new human and he felt like he needed to get to know him first, but there was no doubt he would protect the little bundle of joy with his life. It took some time to make peace with it all, that it was okay to feel that way.

Now they're both inseparable. Even though Emir is more of his Mumma's boy, he still manages to have fun with his Papa.

Today just added to that all that guilt for him.

The next thing Harry knew was feeling gentle taps on his arm. "Harry, do you wanna go sleep in our bed?" It was his wife he found when he finally opened his eyes and found his boy missing.

"Where did Emir go?" He panicked.

"I put him in his cot." She shared, "do you wanna go upstairs and get comfortable?"

"Yeah, sorry I fell asleep here." He sighed, "when did you get back?"

"Just fifteen minutes ago."

"Hmm, let's go upstairs and sleep. I am so tired." He got up to follow after her, "did you manage to get the order done?"

"Yeah, we did." She yawned making him giggle, "sorry I'm very tired."

"So am I, love." He draped his arm around her waist, tuck her closer to him.

"How did your day go?"

"Oh, don't ask!" He sighed dramatically. "I still feel bad, you know." He was walking straight to bed giving her space to go get ready to join him but, she stopped him.

"It's okay, Harry." She cooed, "come sit here. Please?"

"Come on." He walked her to their bed.

"You don't have to feel bad, okay? I know you tried your best, he knows you did." She assured him, stood in between his thighs to hug him.

"But I don't know if he ate properly." His voice was low as he sniffled, his face buried in her chest. "I got so distracted."

"Harry he's a baby, he'll wake us up if he's hungry." She said, running her fingers through his hair, "you know it's okay to make mistakes I'm sure he isn't even going to remember anything in the morning. We'll do one thing, let's bring him over to sleep in our bed tonight, yeah?"

Harry doesn't like that. He'd insisted on sleep training their baby since he turned six months old, but he agreed today.

"Yeah!" He nodded.

"Harry? You're crying?" She cooed and bent down to look at him. "It's okay, I promise."

"I, I know. I just can't help it." He chuckled sheepishly. YN smiled and wiped away his tears with her sweater paws, press a few sloppy kisses on his either of cheeks.

"I brought made your favourite cake pops." She reminded him, "kept them away in the fridge for you."

"You did?" His face lit up instantly.

"Mhmm." She nodded, "the ones with chocolate cake and coffee butter cream."

"Oh I love you so much!" With his arms wrapped around her middle he pulled her down, flipping them over he buried her down in the mattress.

"Oh my..." She laughed, "I should have told you that earlier."

"Yeah!" He agreed. "You should have!" Lifting his head up from her neck to look at her, he pressed sloppy wet kisses all over her face.

"Now don't go eat them all cuz I used a lot of coffee in it." She explained, "you won't be sleeping tonight then."

"I'll go bring our little lad in then, leave you to relax and do your skincare and stuff." He gave her another peck on the mouth before he lifted himself off her.

"Mhmm."

When YN returned from taking a shower and doing her skincare, he found her boy fast asleep. Emir lied on his side in the middle spooning his small teddy tucked under his arms. Harry lied just behind him with his hand rested on his little tummy.

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

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avilthings · 2 months

Text

Vigilante Shit

Plot: What happens when a pent up Husk sees you doing the Vigilante Shit by Taylor Swift chair dance?

Pairing: Husk x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: NSFW🔞(more so at the end but very suggestive throughout), praise kink, and swearing

Length: 4.2k

Shout out: @irkimatsu who helped me through this fic! An amazing writer and worth checking out!

Edited by: @irkimatsu who took the time to go over and edit my work, thank you so much! Full editing credit to them!

Links: This is the choreography dance, and then Taylor’s performance.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMM6c8JCj/

•

It’s been a long day of Charlie trying to bring you more out of your shell. You're quiet, always have been. Charlie, on the other hand, is very outgoing and bubbly. She wants to get to know you and understand you better, but you aren’t one to open up….

You’re a sinner demon, and back when you were alive, you struggled with anxiety and the fear of judgment from others… you still do. It's why you stay quiet and reserved. Although many people know you to be quiet and reserved behind doors and by yourself, there are lots of things you enjoy, singing along to a catchy song, dancing like nobody is watching (because trust me, you make sure they aren’t) and just being you… actually you.

Although you are rather guarded, there are people who you let your guard down for, one being Husk. Husk was also quieter and kept to himself, mostly, which you enjoyed. He never made you feel like you had to open up, instead making opening up feel like a choice. That if you decided to, he’d listen… maybe that’s what made it easier for you. If he didn’t care whether or not you’d open up, he probably wouldn’t judge you if you did. That was your thought process, anyway.

Because of this, you started sitting at his bar more often. At first, it was just silence between you two, like you were both trying to read each other without saying a word.

The more you came, though, the more you started greeting him with a simple “hello, Husk”, which led to “I’ve got the usual for ya” from him. The more you came by, the more you two would talk, even if it was just “how was your day?” followed by “shit…” You knew when not to pry and Husk deeply appreciated that. After a couple of months, you guys had become friends, sharing stories or just enjoying comfortable silence.

“You’re telling me that music can be made just electronically,” Husk said, rather offended by the thought.

“It can be, sometimes. It’s good, but depends on what you’re into. Music has changed a lot from the time you lived.”

Husk scoffs at that. “Ya, sounds like it’s gone to shit.”

“Hey! There’s still good music from my time. In fact, Angel has been playing that one artist a lot, Taylor Swift. She’s from my time.”

“If it ain’t jazz, it ain’t good,” Husk says before turning around to clean more glasses.

“Well, that just ain’t true, Whiskers,” Angel says as he walks over with a vinyl.

Husk glares, annoyed by the name, but he doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, so he doesn’t say anything.

“Whatcha got, Angel?” you ask, curious about the vinyl in his hand.

“It’s Taylor Swift's latest album, Midnights”.

“Ooooh, it finally came out on viny?!” you say excitedly, which surprises Husk. He hasn’t seen you show this much excitement over something before.

“Yep, and I know Husky here has a record player at the bar,” Angel says, smirking at Husk.

“You ain’t playing that shit at my bar,” Husk says gruffly, clearly annoyed from Angel's nicknames. It was already later in the evening, and Husk did not have the patience to deal with this right now.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Angel puts the vinyl on the record player, and the lobby is filled with music and Angel’s singing. “It’s me hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” Angel sings.

“Got that right,” Husk mumbles, annoyed, as you giggle at them.

“YOU THREE! ITS FUCKING MIDNIGHT!” Vaggie yells angrily looking as if you three just woke her up. “You better not wake Charlie up. Turn that shit down and go to bed!” Vaggie says before storming back to bed.

You and Angel head up to bed while Husk stays at the bar, saying he has a few more things to finish before he’ll head to bed. Although Husk doesn’t mind silence, he leaves the record playing quietly. The next couple of songs are slow songs, which doesn’t help as Husk is already tired. He ends up falling asleep pretty quickly on a stool in the corner of the bar.

‘Crap, I forget to get water,’ you think to yourself before heading back down to the bar to grab a cup of water. As you get closer to the bar you can’t see Husk; you assume he already went to bed, though you hear the record still playing. It’s playing Vigilante Shit now, one of your favourites. You knew the dance by heart. Looking around, you see Charlie had brought down chairs for the bonding activity tomorrow. With the chairs right there and the music playing, you just can’t help yourself. ‘No one’s here… it’ll be fine,’ you convince yourself. ‘Just the chorus.’

You stand behind the chair, in the middle of the lobby a good distance from the bar. As the music plays, you take a deep breath and let yourself just enjoy the music, flowing with it. You start to do the dance leaning forward seductively before standing again. You lift the chair before placing it back down with a thump, matching it to the beat of the music.

You must not have realized how loud the chair bang was as it caused Husk to jolt awake. He’s now alert as he sits up more, peering over the bar counter slightly, looking for where the bang came from. That’s when he sees you. Leg up on the chair as you roll your body before straddling the chair backwards slowly lowering yourself onto it.

Husk’s eyes widen, taken aback by the sight. You?! The quietest one here, the most reserved and guarded, doing a chair dance?! Remaining in the chair, not wanting to startle you, Husk stays quiet and watches. ‘Shit…you have a nice ass,’ Husk thought as he started growing hard. His tail starts to swish from anticipation.

You sway your body on the chair, side to side, front to back, before pushing your ass out as you stand while gripping the back of the chair. That did him in, he now noticed how hard he was. ‘What?! Why, why now?’ Husk thought to himself.

Husk had been around the longest out of everyone in the hotel. He had lived the longest life while alive, seen it all, growing up in Vegas and later traveling the world. He’d seen strip shows from all over the world and in hell, watched porn, but none of it excited him anymore. When you’ve seen it all, it starts to get old, becomes the same old shit. So why was he getting hard now? He hadn’t been turned on by this shit in years, so why you? His tail flicked in annoyance at this.

-Smash-

“Shit!” Husk swore, startled and irritated.

You quickly jumped off the chair turning bright red. “Husk…?”

Husk’s tail had knocked into a cheap bottle of booze when it started flicking, and the bottle was now shattered into a million tiny shards on the ground behind the bar. Husk knew you’d freak out if you knew he was watching you dance, so he lied.

“Sorry,” Husk says, standing, but making sure to stay behind the bar due to his… situation. “Something fell and woke me up. Hope I didn’t startle you as well.” Husk lies. “Did you need something?”

You sigh a breath of relief as you walk over to the bar. “I forgot to grab a glass of water before heading to bed… looks like you forgot to even head to bed,” you say, getting closer to the bar.

“Wait there, don’t come back here. There's glass and booze all over the floor,” Husk grumbles. Obviously, he tells you to wait there so as to not get hurt, definitely not so that you don't see the obvious bulge in his pants.

“You seem tired, if we clean up together it’ll go faster and–”

“No,” he cuts you off coldly. “Here,” he brings you a glass of water. “It’s late and Charlie has plans in the morning, so get some sleep. I’m sure Niffty will clean this in the morning. She likes broken glass.”

You nod before taking the glass of water. You head to the stairs before saying a quiet “Night, Husk”. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod back, staying behind the bar until he knows you're upstairs. With that, he heads to bed hoping to take care of his… problem.

That night, Husk can’t help it as his dreams are filled with the memory of you dancing. How he wished he was in that chair as you slowly straddled his lap, lowering yourself down onto his already hard cock. How he wished his hands would grip your hips as you throw your head back, pushing out your chest. How your hands would grip his shoulders as you stood back up, pushing your ass out while you lean in to kiss his lips. How he’d love to take you right then and there, whether you’re in his lap or bent down gripping the chair. Him sliding–

“Fuck!” Husk's eyes snap open as he pants. “Shit…” Husk swore, knowing exactly why he woke up panting. He looked down to see his cock straining against his boxers, which now had a wet spot. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What, am I 16 again?’ Husk thought, seriously annoyed by this.

After Husk took care of things and showered (with cold water), he headed down back to the bar as usual. Husk noticed the glass and spilled booze had at least been cleaned. He also noticed you with Charlie and the rest of the gang, working on the team bonding. Of course, you just had to be sitting on that damn chair for the exercise. Husk couldn’t concentrate now, remembering the dream he had. “Shit, shit, shit…” Husk was getting hard again, and it drove him crazy.

Over the next couple of days, anytime Husk saw you, he would get hard. No matter how many times he got off to the memory of that dance, he still got hard whenever seeing you, and it was driving him nuts. Despite trying to take care of his problems himself, it just led to him being more and more pent up.

“Is Husk okay?” you whispered to Angel. “He’s been in a terrible mood these past few days.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sugar, he just has his bow tie in a twist. Maybe you should go over and help untwist it,” Angel says playfully before walking off.

You think to yourself, trying to figure out what would cause him to be so agitated, before a smashing sound plays in your mind. ‘That’s right… Husk broke a bottle of booze. That must be why he’s so irritated,’ you think to yourself.

With a plan in mind, you head out gathering what you need before confronting Husk.

It was later that evening as you walked up to the bar with a bag in your hand. “Hey,” you say gently, not wanting to irritate Husk more. He just looks up at you as you sit at the bar, and he grunts acknowledging your presence. “Listen… I just wanted to say I’m sorry if it was me who startled you that night. I know it caused a bottle of whiskey to get broken, so here.” You take a small bottle of whiskey out of the bag and place it on the bar counter. “I’m sorry if that’s what’s been irritating you, I hope this makes up for it.”

Husk just blinks, surprised by your kind actions as he looks at the bottle of whiskey. “You didn’t have to, it wasn’t your fault,” Husk says. “Listen, that’s not why I’ve been so moody.”

“Oh?” you say looking confused, wanting to encourage him to continue speaking.

Husk sighs before deciding to just give in and tell you about what really happened that night. Maybe if he gets it off his chest he’ll stop getting hard every time he sees you. That was his thought process at least.

“That night you came down to get water… I saw you dancing.”

Your cheeks burn bright red, mortified from the thought of him seeing you dance erotically. “I-I…” you stutter, trying to say something.

“It’s okay,” Husk says in a more comforting way. “Just hear me out.”

You nod.

“That night that I saw you dance… I did indeed fall asleep behind the bar. It was when the chair banged that I woke up and saw you dancing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, watching the way your body moved perfectly with the song.” Husk sighed, looking around the bar to make sure it was empty. “Listen, I’m just gonna tell it as it is.”

You nod, face turning red from his words.

“When you were dancing… I got hard, and my tail started flicking which is what knocked the bottle. It’s been a long time since I’ve been aroused like that, and that night my dreams got out of hand. I couldn’t help picturing what it would be like if you did that dance for me. And it wasn’t just in that dream that I couldn’t help picturing it… it was anytime I saw you or let my mind wander. Every time, I’d get hard over that thought, and it drove me crazy. No matter how many times I took care of it on my own I still couldn’t get that thought out of my head. I guess I got pretty irritated from all that which is why I’ve been in a bad mood. Sorry ‘bout that. Maybe now that I’ve gotten it off my chest I’ll finally be able to move on from that thought.”

After hearing Husk’s confession, you just sat there for a moment, processing things. It was an awkward silence before you finally spoke up.

“Husk… would you like me to help?”

“What.” Husk blinked, confused by what you meant. There’s no way you could mean what he thought you meant, right?

What Husk didn’t know is that you’d always found him very attractive, especially after getting to know him more. You came to his bar pretty regularly and had opened up to him. He made you feel safe for some reason. It’s no surprise that you ended up developing some feelings along the way. Knowing Husk, though, the last thing you’d want to do is admit to having feelings.

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” you say quietly.

“I need to hear it from you,” Husk says bluntly.

“Husk, your dream was about me doing that dance for you, yes? I’ll do that for you. It would help to finally calm that thought, right?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want, though? I don’t want you doing this because you take pity on me.” Husk’s ears fold back against his head, irritated at the thought. As you notice this you lift your hand up before resting it on his cheek. His ears perk back up from the sudden touch as he stares at you.

“I want this too,” you whisper.

With that, Husk places his hand over top of yours that rests on his cheek. He moves your hand closer to his mouth and kisses it while maintaining eye contact.

“Let’s take this to my bedroom, then. I want you all to myself,” Husk says seductively as he holds your hand, guiding you to his room.

Husk’s room is what you’d expect from a typical older man. It was surprisingly neat and clean.

“Wait a minute, is that the Midnight vinyl over on your record player? Angel thought he lost it.” You giggle a bit before teasing him. “Guess not all music from my generation is bad, huh?” you say playfully as Husk gives a shrug.

“Guess I’ve had one of the songs stuck in my head recently.”

You laugh at this, knowing full well what song’s been stuck in his head.

“Plus, if you’re going to dance for me, you’re going to need music.” Husk says as he walks over to his closet and pulls out a folded up chair.

He sets the chair in the middle of the room before walking over to the record player. Vigilante Shit starts playing before he goes back to sit on the chair, giving you a sly smile. Your face goes red seeing him sit there, but you want this too.

The music reaches the chorus, and you start by standing behind him and the chair as you usually would. You place your foot on his lap with your leg up just as before, only this time, careful not to put too much pressure on his legs. His claws gently caress up your calf, sending a shiver through you. You keep going, though. This time, you put your hands on his shoulders instead of the back of the chair as you come around to the front. With your hands on his shoulders, you slowly lower yourself, straddling his lap before finally plopping down on beat to the music. You can feel it… feel how hard he is as you sit in his lap. His hands come up to settle on your hips as you throw your head back on beat with your back arching. You go to stand as that’s part of the choreography but Husk keeps you in his lap with a firm grip on your hips.

“Sorry gorgeous, but I think I like you right where you are.”

With that, Husk leans in and kisses you. It’s filled with desire and need, as if he was starving for so long, finally getting to eat now. His grip on your hips tightens the more intense the kiss gets. His tongue was rough and easily dominated your own. Your grip on his shoulders also tightened as you gripped his fur, trying to ground yourself. His hips bucked in response to you gripping his fur. You pulled back with a gasping, moaning noise leaving your lips.

“Can I take this off?” Husk said as he gently slid your shirt up a bit before stopping, waiting for a response.

“Please.” You nod eagerly.

Husk chuckles at your enthusiasm and pulls the shirt up over your head. “So gorgeous,” Husk purrs out as his hands travel down your now exposed torso. You lean in and place a gentle kiss on his neck. He purrs in response, running a claw under your bra clasp. “And this?” Husk says in a low tone.

“Yes,” you breathe out between the kisses you're leaving on his neck. He uses his claw to rip the back of the bra before it falls down off your chest.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Husk says as his hands work their way up to your breasts.

He cupped both breasts in his hands and squeezed gently as he started to kiss and nip at your neck. He then switched to rolling each nipple between thumb and forefinger until they hardened under his touch. You couldn’t help lightly whimpering at the feeling. Husk kissed down your neck to your collar bone before making his way down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked hard on it while continuing to knead the other breast rhythmically with his hand. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through you.

You moved your hands from his shoulders to slide down his back before grazing his wings. Husk bit down as the feeling startled him. You winced a bit from the pain before he gently licked the spot he had bitten. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to touch my wings,” he says as he switches to pay attention to your other nipple.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first,” you say, pulling away from his wings.

“No, it’s okay, I liked it… just startled me, was all,” Husk says before latching onto your nipple and sucking it gently while biting at it.

You slide your hands down his back again before gently grazing some feathers. Husk’s hips grind up into you in response to your touch. He starts to kiss back up your body to your neck, biting as you grind your hips down onto his hard cock, craving friction. His tail swishes lazily behind him, brushing lightly against whatever part of you happened to be nearby.

“Husk,” you whine against him as your hips grind at a steady pace now “Need you… please.”

Husk rubs your back gently. “I know baby, I know.

Can you sit up slightly for me? I know you can,” Husk encourages.

You do so, lifting yourself from his lap. He’s quick to unbutton his pants and move them down just enough to get his cock out. You slowly sit back down on his thighs as he pumps himself a bit, smearing the precum over his cock. The sight of that right in front of you was enough to make your mouth water and pussy wetter than you thought possible. You were wearing a skirt, so Husk could easily feel how wet you were already through your panties.

Husk hooks a claw under your skirt before looking to you for consent. You nod, smiling, as he slides your skirt up instead of taking it off. “Do you care about these panties?” He says, not taking his eyes off them.

“No.”

“Good.” With that, Husk rips your panties as they fall to the ground, now in many pieces. He pulls you closer to him, guiding your hips to grind against him. Your slick was now coating his cock as it rubbed against your folds and clit, causing you to moan.

“Please, Husk,” you begged.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready… but from how wet you are, I’d say you’re more than ready.”

With that, Husk carefully helps to lift your hips, guiding them to line himself up with your entrance. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop, okay?” Husk says in a serious tone, making direct eye contact with you.

“I promise, if it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

With that, Husk helps to gently lower yourself onto him.

You both moan as his cock slides into you slowly. Being impatient, though, you fully sit down on his cock as it bottoms out inside of you. “Fuck!” Husk hissed from the sudden intense sensation. “Eager are we?” He said teasingly before capturing your lips in his. He kissed you as you adjusted to his size. He wasn’t overly big, but had a good girth and a few rough barbs that lined his cock. After a few seconds, you started to carefully move your hips. With that, he held onto your hips firmly, guiding your movements with gentle thrusts of his own. “That's it,” he murmured encouragingly into your ear. His tail curled possessively around one of your legs. He increased the tempo gradually, matching each upward glide of your hips with an equally forceful downward snap of his.

“Husk,” you moaned. “So good!” You breathe out as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into it, lost in the pleasure and his scent. He started moving faster now, his hips slamming against yours with increasing urgency.

“Glad you think so,” he groaned out between clenched teeth as he struggled to maintain control. His one hand moved from your hip to stroking along the curve of your spine while his tail continued its relentless caress on one leg.

“Can’t take much more,” you whined against his neck. Husk's grip on your hips tightened as he heard the desperation in your voice, his own need threatening to overwhelm him. He slammed into you harder and faster now, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you.

“Come for me”, he growled hoarsely into your ear. His claws dug painfully into the soft flesh beneath them, as he was on the edge, too.

Husk felt you tighten around him as you came with a loud moan, your orgasm pushing him to reach his own. He bit down on your shoulder to muffle his moans and to mark you as his cum filled you. He held onto you tightly for several moments afterwards, licking the blood from the bite mark, before finally collapsing back into the chair fully with an exhausted sigh. His heart was racing wildly beneath his furry chest as you leaned against it, panting. “Damn,” he muttered softly under his breath after regaining some sense of composure. “Gotta say, that was even better than my dream.”

“Speaking of dreams, mind if I stay here tonight… with you?” you asked, still resting against his chest fur as his claws now lazily dragged up and down your back.

“I’d like that.”

In one swift motion, Husk picked you up before carrying you to the bathroom to get cleaned up together. “Sorry if I was rough. You’re bleeding a bit,” Husk says before kissing the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Everything you did tonight was perfect,” you say as you ruffle his ears.

Once clean, you both made your way to Husk’s bed, as it was now 2am. You cuddled into his chest as he wrapped his wings around your naked body, keeping you warm but also protecting you.

Soon sleep consumed you both, as you slept peacefully in each other’s embrace.

•

Notes: This was my first attempt at writing fanfiction so please be nice! I welcome feedback! Hope you enjoyed reading this if you made it this far❤️

#hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk

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omarera · 3 months

Text

Oh wow 🫠 collecting my thoughts the day after The Day. Long rant ahead.

It’s truly one of the most beautiful concert experiences I have ever had. The intimacy of the venue and all the love from the very excited audience was so special. His live vocals are incredible! I was a bit worried how he would handle the dance routines and keep his vocals on top but certainly no need to worry. The sound and his vocals were amazing through out the show. His stage presence is also something very unique, he has this glowing energy and just radiates and it’s very natural and feels like he is in his right element when he performs on stage. The dance routines were also on point and he is such a smooth and beautiful dancer.

I also liked the diversity and the planning of the set list. I was a little surprised that he added Build a girl for example but that song became a nice toned downed version and he was sitting on a chair singing it. People filling in the lyrics and he made a shout out and thanks to Felix and Oscar in the audience. It was a sweet moment for him to cherish his start, telling us about it and praise his band members. And Mapei came in during Om du inte fanns and Jubel appeared during Off my mind.

He did some small talk between songs and had a lovely talk about moving to Sweden and praising his mom as well. And a talk on YR ofc. And was so sweet and caring when a fan needed support and needed to be removed from the floor by security and waited till it’s was all clear and he made sure to get a “good to go” answer from the security before continuing.

I read a review in DN (one of Swedens two large morning papers) and first I was disappointed of it, and still is to some extent, but it was also a very promising review. It basically says that his own song catalogue doesn’t hold for a full concert yet, since covers were included, and that his small talk were good on paper but didn’t fly on stage. And they criticized him speaking English, which actually shows they had no idea how loved he is around the world and that so many fans had come and he was just respectful to them. I can understand some of her points though (after my first reaction lol), that he dreams big and talks about fulfilling dreams but has not fully reach a level of being a the top level artist (due to song catalog) She could have focused more on his stage presence etc but ofc they hit in the things they can. But I also find that review very hopeful. It was his first show, the song catalog will grow. He can develop the small talk and make the breaks in the show more tight, to not loose momentum. Those are things he can change. The reviewer compared him with a young Darin, who is now one of the biggest names in Sweden and he also has a big career abroad. So she clearly see his potential to grow. And she had no complaints on his stage presence, singing and his performance. How could she have. That was clearly on point. And he got a 3 on a scale from 0-5. Getting a 2 is equal to “pass”, so he still got a review above “good enough”. It would have been nice if she would have mentioned his amazing voice.

I brought a friend, she just listened in on his songs before the show, and she was absolutely floored by his performance and personality.

I am so so proud and happy for him. For him (and us) , this really was to fulfill one of his dream. He has had the dream to make his first solo concert for so long. The professional way he excelled doing it with his family and friends there, all the loving fans (he also shows he loves back), was just magical and very beautiful ❤️

#omar rudberg #omar at circus

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7grandmel · 23 days

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Todays rip: 19/04/2024

i love(d) you

Season 6 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume FF Also on: Now That's What I Call Quality! 3

Ripped by vvsvlogs

youtube

Requested by oetaboy and an anonymous reader! @oetaboy (Ask Box)

I'm sure this rip's been a long time coming for many - I know it has for me. I've had i love(d) you sitting in my drafts as far back as in March, but truthfully it's...daunting, to write about. Requested by two readers. Close to 200 thousand views on YouTube, and recently featured prominently in popular Clone Hero YouTuber Acai's "The Quality of SiIvaGunner" series. And the rip itself being an emotional gutpunch in a season filled with them, from a ripper who's already gutpunched me plenty with Wham! Into Dreams and The Paragoomba and the Wiggler. vvsvlogs, Vivi, I ask this with the most sincere gratitude possible - why must you do this to me?

Minecraft as a game has its emotional hooks in at least two generations of people - that much I think we're all aware of. A sandbox filled with endless possibilities, community, friends, individual stories of survival or of great creative endeavors, all wrapped in C418's hauntingly beautiful score, one I've discussed many times before with Fell From a High Place (Reprise), M-O-O-G City and Every Mob Wants To Rule My World. All of these rips are beautiful, yet they're all aiming to play with Minecraft's sound in some way - the former two rips are arrangement of its music with other games' instrumentation, and the latter rip is a melodyswap playing Everybody Wants To Rule The World. They all play on my senses in their own ways, they're all rightfully impressive - but nothing hits quite the same as Minecraft's own music, on its own terms. i love(d) you isn't aiming to impress or amaze - but it lands a full-on critical hit on one's heart through leveraging everything that's kept Subwoofer Lullaby alive for so many years.

I've talked plenty about my musical illiteracy, and so I hope it doesn't come as a surprise that I've never really listened to world-renowed singer Billie Eilish. She's been on the radio, I've heard Bad Guy, but it was never a name I gave much more thought beyond seeing her discussed online from time to time. You can imagine the absolute awe I was in when I clicked on i love(d) you when it first went up, already expecting an emotional hit due to the Minecraft song used, only to get goosebumps from Eilish's vocals alone. i love you is the penultimate song from Eilish's debut studio album, the very same that Bad Guy was featured on - yet compared to that track's bass-heavy, almost seductive energy, i love you feels remarkably personal, with little more than an acoustic guitar and piano accompanying the openly emotional vocal performance. It's sincere in a way I don't hear enough music be, as if a diary translated into song, much the same emotion that Because I Love You conveyed yet with even greater magnitude due to the vocals in play.

i love(d) you, uploaded for 2022's valentines day, wields both of these forms of love - the connections many of us have to one of the most impactful games ever made, and the unfiltered emotion of i love you - to create something unabashedly beautiful. Mashups aren't a novel concept, mashups are nothing new - yet one glance at the comments tells me that I'm not alone in finding this rip in particular to have struck an incredibly sensitive nerve. Because there's a beauty to Minecraft that I think many of us oft forget about. It's a game that we all cherish, yet also one that's very easy to have left behind: we have adult responsibilities, we have school, we have other, shorter, more concise games, we have social media, we have friends, we have blogs...the solemn beauty of playing the game itself is, for many viewers like myself, not much more than a memory, something that can feel ever so difficult to recreate without feeling as if something's wrong.

We...I'm...not a kid anymore.

There was nothing about i love(d) you's concept that necessitated it to be more than just the mashup. There rip had no need for visuals that'd help convey the edit like with Plantasia 2 or Luna, mi Amor, no need to tickle the funnybone like with SUNGORE or the hundreds of other YTPMV rips on the channel. Yet, halfway through the rip, to the tune of Eilish's soothingly reverberating vocals, the background begins to change, not to a bit, not to a reference nor easter egg...but to Minecraft. To where all of this attachment began - to a far-off view of the game's beautiful landscapes as the sun begins to rises. That digital world that looks different for every player, yet the same in everyone's hearts - that place that, no matter how many years pass, how long its been since we last played, we all love. Its impact different to everyone, yet the feeling unanimous. It drives home how well the mashup works not just as a mixture of two deeply emotional songs, but as music tied to a shared experience: all of our Minecraft worlds looked different, all of our personal lives look different, but we've all played the game, and we've all had affection for it.

Every moment I spend thinking about this rip aches in some way. It's been well past two years since it was first uploaded, yet it continues to follow me as the years go on, my mouse drawn to it any time it reappears in my recommendations. In being featured on 2024's Now That's What I Call Quality! 3, I think the team holds much the same sentiment - even as the months pass, i love(d) you is the kind of rip that'll never fall out of favor, never stop meaning things to people. And realizing that it was made by vvsvlogs, the very same vvsvlogs who's already made me far too emotionally vulnerable on here twice before, has only made it mean that extra bit more to me.

I'm not a kid anymore. I know that. But I'll always be grateful to SiIvaGunner, the people behind it, and those who follow it along with me, for being able to bring me back to that state of mind when I least expect it.

Thank you.

#todays siivagunner #season 6 #siivagunner #siiva #vvsvlogs #rip visuals #minecraft #minecraft music #c418 #subwoofer lullaby #minecraft alpha #minecraft beta #minecraft art #mojang #mineblr #billie eilish #acoustic #when we all fall asleep where do we go #Youtube

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lizzieislife94x · 4 months

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I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend (e.o)

GirlxGirl

LizziexFem Reader

Honestly I'm drunk and Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne came on and so I've wrote this lmao enjoy (I will be writing it sober but just putting the idea down now or I'll forget)

Y/ns POV:

Why does she need to look so fucking perfectly perfect I groan to myself as I fake a smile to my best friends, friend Elizabeth I've met her multiple times we've hung out in a group multiple times and we always catch eyes I've spoke to her many of times alone but it's so hard to control myself around her I don't know why I'm so madly inlove with this woman yet she only sees me as a friend of a friend but fuck I love listening to her talking and her laughing smile can turn my worst days to amazing days and her eyes I've found myself lost in them many times and don't get me started with the little touches and flirting here and there purely innocent on her end she's just started seeing someone she has a second date with her in a few days "y/n yoo y/n" my best friend Stella snaps in my face with a giggle bringing me out of my thoughts "welcome back y/n where did you go" lizzie says softly as she gently rubs my arm making me blush "oh uh just lost in thought haha anyone want a drink?" I say standing up as I walk away without actually seeing if anyone wants a drink "yeah can I have a double vodka with sprite please" I say ordering a drink and boy do I need it

"dude what is wrong with you, you where spaced out the entire conversation lizzie was telling us about the girl she has a second date with and you wernt listening " I rub my temples and turn to Stella placing my hands on her shoulders "you know I love you right but please drop it im fine I zoned out and I don't wanna hear about how excited she is for her date with Little Miss Perfect" I say with a sigh as jealousy comes out "here you go ma'am " I turn and take my drink smiling as I turn back to Stella "you like her don't you" I roll my eyes and drink some of my drink "just drop it please I need to go get ready to go on stage the band should be ready ill see you in a bit" I down the rest of my drink and walk past lizzie towards the stage without making eye contact I quickly jump on the stage and hug my band mates I walk towards Jules who smirks pulling me into a hug hands resting on my lower back giving the full bar view she whispers in my ear not breaking the hug "so blondy over there is that who the songs about are you still doing it " I pull away and look at her with a nod I walk towards the mic and pull it to my lips "mic check one two one two, how's everyone doing tonight I hope youre all excited to see us perform because we are super excited to be here as always thank you to the owner and our dear friend Jacob" I smile as everyone starts cheering and screaming I turn to look at my band and nod as they start to play the tune I smirk getting ready to jump around and sing my heart out giving it all my energy "hey hey you you I don't like your girlfriend no way no way I think you need a new one" I scream while jumping around having a ball making direct eye contact with lizzie I point to her slightly as I continue to jump around singing all of us giving it our all " hey hey you you I want to be your girlfriend "

we continue singing until the song ends as everyone starts screaming and cheering making me smile brightly we perform another 3 songs before I bid my goodnights to the people I jump off stage and smile an appreciated smile as Stella hands me a drink I sit and drink it as I wipe the sweat from my face by lifting my top I take a second to get my breath back before looking at lizzie and Stella lizzies eyes glued to my toned stomach "thanks for supporting me as always such an amazing bestie I love you" I say standing up walking behind Stella wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug kissing her cheek gently "I'm gonna head home though because I need to shower and well you know" I whisper the last part as she squeezes my arms letting me know she understands I quickly stand up straight and look at lizzie with a slight smile "thank you for coming have a great night" I turn walking out of the club as I get my car keys from my pocket unlocking it I climb in and sigh leaning my head against the steering wheel after a few minutes I hear soft knocks on my window I look up to see lizzie and smile as I open my door "hey are you ok" I ask as she moves closer to me "yeah so Stella's boyfriend turned up and they where eating eachothers faces and she's my ride home I was wondering if you could take me home" I can't say no to that face as much as I can't spend time with her I'd never leave her here I need to make sure she's safe "yeah sure of course jump in" she smiles and jumps up and down placing a kiss on my cheek as she runs around to the other side hoping in the car "thank you" I nod not really saying anything as I start the car and head towards lizzies house she lives 50 minutes from here so this is gonna be an agonising ride "that first song you sang it was great about anyone in particular?" She randomly says 10 minutes into the drive "yeah but she's seeing someone so it honestly doesn't matter"

I say a little coldly "is it about stella" she says a hint of sadness in her voice I shake my head and laugh "oh god no I love her she's my best friend but I'm not inlove with her and I certainly don't want to be her girlfriend " after a few seconds of silence she whispers "good" i pull over to a more private place and look over to her "oh my god youre going to murder me arnt you" I let out a laugh and look at her longingly "no lizzie I'm not going to murder you I'd never hurt you, but" i take a deep breath and ready myself gripping the wheel a little "youre an amazing girl but I think we should hang out with Stella separately being around you is becoming incredibly hard and tonight sitting listening to you talking about this amazing girl youre so excited to see again crushed me and I can't sit and pretend it doesn't when we all hang out but as time goes on it's gonna get worse and become harder and I know its so selfish of me but I think it's best" I say with sadness I look down and whisper after a few minutes of silence "say something "she clears her throat and looks at me "just take me home please" I sigh and start to drive towards her house once again she doesn't say a word the entire way to her house after 40 minutes I pull up to her house and park the car "there you go" she turns and looks at me like she's studying me and before I know it she grabs me by the collar of my shirt crashing her lips to mine in a heated passionate kiss after a few seconds I pull away completely confused "wh.." she smirks and interruptes me "there is no other girl, I like you and I wanted to pretend I had this amazing date coming up it was stupid but fuck I like you" before she can say anything I kiss her passionately, once air becomes and issue she pulls away leaning her head against mine "take me to bed" she whispers I instantly jump out the car and run around to open her door both of us giggling as she jumps into my arms

"You look so fucking sexy" she says biting her lip as she looks down at my naked exposed body I honestly wasn't expecting her to be a top but fuck me she's hot, I can't help but blush looking at her with lust in my eyes "please fuck me mommy" I instantly freeze slapping my hands over my mouth my eyes almost bulging out as I realise what i said "fuck say it again" she groans as she sits between my legs rubbing my thighs sending tingles all over my body "please...fuck me..mommy" I breath out a moan as her thumb gently rubs my clit adding a little pleasure making me buck my hips to gain more friction "please don't tease baby" I moan as she smirks "so fucking wet for me kitten and that's not my name" she slides her fingers down to my entrance teasing me "I'm sorry mommy but please don't tease me I need you fuck I need yo..." before I could finish she sunk 2 fingers deep inside me causing me to gasp and moan as the pleasure runs through my veins "mhhh fuck just like that mommy" she thrusts her fingers faster as she leans down taking my left nipple into her mouth as my hand instinctively grabs her hair causing her to moan "you like that kitten" she groans against my nipple as her fingers curl hitting my gspot "fuckkkkkkk do...don't stop pl..please mommy" I scream as she continues to hit my gspot over and over I feel my legs start to shake uncontrollably as the knot in my stomach snaps and my orgasm washes over me lizzie slows her thrusts to let me ride out my orgasm as my legs continue to shake and my cum coats her fingers and hands "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck" I whimper pulling her down ontop of me as she slides her fingers out and smirks bringing them to my lips "suck princess"

I moan and do as I'm told and suck her fingers swirling my tounge around causing her to moan "such a pretty site if it wasn't so late I'd make you cum over and over so I can hear those pretty little cries of pleasure but you need sleep babygirl " I smile and look into her eyes "I had no idea you where a top but fuck me it was hot I never let a girl top me but you turned me into a whimpering puddle" I say with a blush she smiles and pecks my lips whispering against my lips "because youre my good little girl" I moan and hide my face in her neck as she giggles and cuddles into me I turn on my side to look into her eyes "I can't believe that just happened I've found it so hard to control my feelings around you" I confess as I kiss her forehead "me to but I want to take you on a real date babe so tomorrow I'm taking you out" I smile and nod as we cuddle and I slowly drift off to sleep with a smile on my face as she tickles my back making me feel content.

AN: ok I'm not gonna lie I was supposed to post this and another yesterday so I apologise but I was out with friends all day for my birthday so completely forgot to finish it but I hope you enjoy I have another then ill start working on the part 2s and requests, hope everyone is good and remember stay hydrated babes haha word count 2k

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ilovetulips · 2 years

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DEATH OF ME

steve harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader

𖦹 in which your boyfriend steve surprises you at your cheer performance, with an unexpected guest.

𖦹 < steve in love 3 , sm fluff

𖦹 1.3k

—

the small of your skirt flicked around your waist, contorting to match the swift movements you completed while you were flung through the air. flashes of yellow and greens consume the view of everyone in the audience, while your pom-poms waved enthusiastically to encourage them further.

everytime you completed your routine, your body filled with an indescribable rush of adrenaline and joy. the feeling permeating through your body was one of your favourite things. you finish your in-air routine and land perfectly on your white shoes with your hands in the air.

your breathtaking smile and waves prepared the audience for the upcoming basketball game, giving hope to the team that they’d win. you couldn’t care less about the team at all, but you had been a cheerleader for your whole time in hawkins high. being a cheerleader since your freshman year had finally granted the opportunity for you to be hawkins’ favourite flyer. and you loved it.

as you scan the crowd, sending positive energy to each person cheering back, you catch sight of the familiar eyes of your boyfriend. your fake cheer-appropriate smile had quickly been replaced by your genuine one, the one steve loved so much. he could tell that your smile had changed, even if it was the smallest change. you aimed your waves and smiles at him, completely enthralled by the fact he could finally make it to see you perform.

you were too busy studying his face before even acknowledging the small pairs of feet hanging down his chest. your heart swells as you look up and see your laughing sister’s face, her small body resting upon steve’s shoulders. when you take in the whole image, you can’t help but fall in love with the boy even more than you already were.

he couldn’t make it to watch your performances nearly as much as he wanted to, him being a year older and graduating before you being hard for you both. his job in family video was quite demanding, his hours only building up. robin still being in school too had only increased steve’s chances of being in work full-time. he wanted to see you, and not being there with you in school only made him grow worried about you. yet robin being in your grade helped him significantly.

and now here he was, sitting with your baby sister in his shoulders while watching his favourite girl boost the crowd’s morales. he knew you were good, but fuck. you were amazing. no wonder you were hawkins’ favourite.

once the rally was complete, you blew kisses towards your boyfriend and sister as they stood in the mass of people. steve winked in response before lifting your sister off his back and sitting her down on his lap. you kept an eye on them throughout the entire game, resisting any urge you had to run up to them both and hug them. the way steve tickled the young girl, earning a giggle to erupt from her chest; or when she’d try and start a wave in the crowd and it failing because of her being too short for everyone to see, so steve would start it for her.

he was so great with her, and you couldn’t help but envision a family of your own with him one day. catching a glimpse of your adoring smile in the distance, steve sends you a small wave before pointing at you so your sister looks too. her excited squeals broke the tense atmosphere in the game, radiating through the quiet crowd and earning a few laughs from others.

as soon as the coach blew the whistle and the match had ended, you ditched the pom-poms and ran towards the stand. the boy was guiding your sister down the stairs slowly as she hobbled over each step, before seeing you and dragging him behind her. she runs up to you with a large hug as you kneel down to meet her embrace.

“hi, honey! how’d you like the game?” you beam down at the young girl, her dark hair in two braids trailing down her scalp.

“fun! steve is fun.” she claps in your face, making you turn your head up at him. he was already kneeling down, smirking above you as he leans next to you.

“oh is he now? what about me?” she tries to climb onto steve’s back as you speak, indicating that she wants to have another piggyback ride.

“you flew!”

“i flew!” you laugh at her enthusiastic tone.

“you were so good up there, sweetheart. forgot how much of a pro you were.” steve speaks up, wrapping his hand around your waist while he holds the little girl on his shoulders still.

“missed you so much. why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he guides you out of the emptying gymnasium, taking caution to not knock your sister on the top of the doorframe by accident.

“steve said surprise you!”

“sure did. wanted to see my girl in action.” he winks at you, making you turn away slightly to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. ‘my girl.’

you step outside into the air, your warm body juxtaposing coldness of it. you sigh with relief as you lean against steve’s infamous burgundy bmw. he gently lets your sister crawl down his back and run around the car, small hiccups and giggles sounding from her.

“thank you… for coming, steve. it means alot. and thank you for bringing her. didn’t know you were so good with kids.” you lean on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around your hip, rubbing small circles on your exposed thigh.

“anything for you, ‘course i’d bring her. y’know i can’t resist her pleading eyes, same puppy-dog ones as you.” he chuckles.

“i do not have puppy-dog eyes!” he fakes shock as you smack his chest lightly, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his plush lips to kiss it. “mmm, sure… sure. y’know i love you.” you peer up at him.

“you’re doing it right now.” that stupid smirk gracing his face would be the death of you one day. “shut up, steve. idiot. i love you more.” you lean up to kiss him, but a small voice interrupts you when you reach his lips.

“yeah, shut up steve.” you both peer down to see the little girl stick her tongue out and blow raspberries at steve. hurling over in laughter, you can’t help but give her a high five as steve stands open-mouthed.

“thought you liked me better? traitor.” he watches as you pick her up into your arms, and he can’t help but stare adoringly. he imagined you as a mother with his kids.

“as if she’d choose you over her flying big-sis, right bug?” you boop her nose, watching it scrunch up as she smiles.

“mhm!” you both giggle as steve walks to his car in defeat. he loved both of you so much.

“the absolute death of me…” he mumbled under his breath, opening his car door and sliding in before leaning over and opening the passenger door for you.

“what’d you say, stevie? rude to mumble.” you smirk.

“i said you’re the absolute death of me. now get in here before i drive off and leave y’freezing in that cute little uniform.” you can’t do anything but blush as you crawl into the passenger seat. your sister in her baby-seat behind you, you lean over the centre console and kiss the moping boy next to you.

“love you so much.”

“such a sap, doll.” he pulls out out of the parking lot, one hand on the back of your seat as he turns around to reverse. god. “love you more. always.”

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bagelbeee · 25 days

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Is it too soon to declare my love for Lovely Runner?

Seriously.

Watching it just makes me happy, and with no following episodes, I'm stuck dealing with these feelings. So what other way than to put on my goggles and look closer right?

*cracks knuckles*

Alright, here's my love letter to Lovely Runner.

The band

I'm a sucker for amazing OSTs. I've been listening to their soundtrack nonstop because it just so good and it pairs with the youth and hopeful energy this drama gives off. They really convinced us that ECLIPSE is a well-known band. Man, I wish they'd release the full performances (I hope they did film it)!

And don't get me started with the vocals!

SEON-JAE'S ACTOR (Byeon Woo-seok) RECORDED THOSE SONGS HIMSELF. From his GQ Korea interview, it appeared that he's been diligently practicing and preparing for it! His preparation paid well, his singing was awesome. THE BAND WAS AWESOME.

I understand why Im Sol supported them.

Speaking of our heroine--Kim Hye-yoon portrayed her so well 🥹

From the first episode, I knew she'd be on fire! It's so fun to see her act in various ways (an old woman, a cringy teenager, a fan, a friend, a daughter/grand-daughter) It all just clicks when she's set her mind on it.

The characters they introduced so far were also lovely! They have substance and I can't wait to see how they grow as time passes. There's so much to say about everyone's dynamics, but I'll keep it to myself for now.

I know the elements of this drama are things I've seen before (time-slip, do-overs, idol-fan, mystery, plot-twist-A-liked-B-first-before-B-even-knew-A), but something about the way they played these card stuck with me.

Seon-jae and Sol's history was a surprise to me because I thought the drama was about present-Sol helping present-Seon-jae gain back his passion for music, acting, and life. I thought this was the FIRST time they've met. BUT I WAS WRONG. I'm so happy I was.

Seeing Seon-jae yearn for her without an ounce of selfishness shattered me. aND knowing Sol admired him without an ounce of entitlement turned me into a puddle.

Both of them cherished each other beyond self-interest.

Sol became a fan because he had encouraged her to live. She didn't fall for a pretty face nor a gentle voice. Seon-jae's words reached her not because he tried to maintain a good image, but because he intended for her to live on.

Speaking of, Seon-jae's crush bloomed when she shielded him with an umbrella and gifted him candies for doing his "job" (Remember this is Sol mistaking him for a deliveryman--she's too sweet!). He didn't like her for being a fan; he liked Sol for her kindness and character even before the timeslip.

And once Sol finally got the opportunity to get close to him, approaching Seon-jae was built on the idea of saving him, not to get together with him.

Aside from being a breath of fresh-air, think it's also hilarious because Seon-jae's mind is swimming with I-like-you-and-I've-been-trying-to-confess-to-you thoughts, and he's just trying win points and not to royally mess things up with Sol. He's just a sweet guy with a big crush on an equally sweet girl.

Man, there's so much development on the way! I haven't covered everything, but for now, I think their story will grow into a really awesome tale about love being self-transcending and enabling.

#lovely runner #kim hye yoon #byeon woo seok #solseon #they're just too SWEET #and the music is SO GOOD

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misseviehyde · 1 year

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BITCHI-YOGA

College girl Mia knew it was unhealthy to be so overweight and unfit, but she had a very slow metabolism and couldn’t seem to drop weight whatever she tried. She wanted to shed some pounds, not because of the bullies at school - but for her own health benefit and peace of mind. Despite the difficulty she was experiencing, she was a very determined person and she refused to give up.

Mia had tried various gyms, fitness classes and diets - but nothing seemed to work. Then one day she was looking through the exercise section at the local library when she found a book on “Bitchi-Yoga,” a very rare form of Yoga that claimed to allow complete body and mind control for the user.

Mia took the book home and began to read it, the information was fascinating and almost drew her in hypnotically:

New Practitioner. Soon you will achieve total control of your life and become the person you need to be. To achieve the desired effects - you must undergo both a mental and a physical change. The exercises and positions shown in this book unlock powerful mystical energies that flood the body with energy that can be directed to make you a new person. This energy will be controlled by your new persona and you will become a Bitchi-Yoga master.

Mia frowned. She wasn’t sure she wanted a new persona, she just wanted to lose some weight. Still it couldn’t hurt to read on a little.

Visualise the woman you hate and dislike the most. The woman that possesses the attributes and skills so unlike your own that you are jealous and envious of her. Think of the hottest, most desired, most powerful woman you know.

Mia’s mind immediately jumped to her principle bully Summer. The rich and spoiled princess bitch who was the most popular girl at college and constantly mocked and teased Mia for being fat and overweight. With her stupid designer outfits and party girl life style - she was everything that Mia hated. She was also super skinny and flexible, apparently she was amazing at sex too. She had everything that Mia didn’t.

Think of her and imagine her in your mind. Know now that this is the woman you really want to be. Through Bitchi-Yoga you can become like this woman. You must embrace your jealousy and let it corrupt you, adopting the persona of this woman in order to become better. You must become like her and eventually be better than her. It will feel so good.

“Noooooo, wait,” groaned Mia as her head span. “That isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be like Summer.” She tried to look away from the book but her eyes seemed magnetically drawn to the page and she couldn’t look away.

“Oh my God, why can’t I stop thinking about that bitch?”

As you fall deeper into the first stages of Bitchi-Yoga, you will begin to accept your corruption. Think of how good it would feel to be like the woman you most hate. You are probably jealous of her popularity, her looks and her sex appeal. You now want to be like her, you want to talk and dress and fuck like her. Soon you will be just like her. Bitchi-Yoga will allow you to corrupt yourself and make yourself into the perfect bitch that you now long to be.

Mia moaned. Her head was suddenly full of thoughts of being like Summer. Of having every eye on her, of being beautiful; of having guys want her and being an all powerful bitch.

“Ohhh fuck, yes; I want to be like Summer,” she moaned helplessly as the delicious thought of becoming an evil slut overwhelmed her innocent mind.

“No, what’s wrong with me? Uuuuuhhh I have to stop;” but Mia couldn’t. She was too far under the control of the evil book now and there was a growing excitement inside her own mind at corrupting herself into a bad girl.

Begin to perform the positions shown in the book. As you stretch and exercise you will begin to transform. Your old body and mind will be destroyed and you will become a new person - a better person. Let go of your innocence and embrace the corruption that will make you a Goddess.

Mia placed the book down carefully and her eyes still on the pages started to stretch as indicated. She moaned as she felt a build up of evil energy crackling around her fat body and her skin began to ripple and tighten.

“OHHHHH fuck - it’s transforming me, I’m ahhhhh becoming a bitch - OHHHH FUCK!”

Bones snapped and popped and fat shed away as Mia groaned in ecstasy and her old fat body began to transform into something far more delicious.

“Uuuuh, ohhhh yesssss! Get rid of that fucking fat and make me into a skinny bitch,” she giggled madly as her voice rose into a bitchy whine and her limbs became thinner and more elegant. Her rib-cage was now visible on her toned torso as her cheekbones rose to give her a haughty bitchy appearance and her flabby clothes magically transformed to match her new body - tightening sexily around her.

Mia moaned as she contorted her body into position after position, each one accelerating her transformation and corrupting her mind. She began to understand that all that mattered was looking beautiful and being popular. Having the power to break boys hearts and get whatever she wanted was all she needed.

“YES, make me into a fucking bad bitch, I LOVE IT,” she purred, her new tight pussy dripping wet as she completed the instructions on the page and her transformation into a skinny manipulative blonde was complete.

Standing up Mia stroked her thin, flexible body in delight. She was a new woman at last and there wasn’t even a stretch mark in sight. The evil yoga had completely corrupted her. She looked even hotter than Summer now and she felt so evil and wicked. There was a small part of her mind that was trying to fight the new bitch she had become, but it was so small and pathetic the new Mia was easily able to repress it.

I’m in charge now you stupid fat bitch, you’re me now and you love it. Give in and enjoy being a tight horny bitch.

Mia giggled as she felt her breasts and pussy, she couldn’t wait to try them out, she was a slut now and it felt soooooo good.

“Ahhh, I’ve never felt so alive. Being bad definitely suits me.”

Picking up the book, Mia continued to read avidly. She wanted to learn if she could become even more powerful and slutty somehow - she had a hunger and a lust for sex and power that needed to be filled.

The book didn’t disapoint.

Your first session of Bitchi-Yoga is complete. You will now be able to follow the more advanced sessions in order to master controlling others and making them do whatever you want. Through Bitchi-Yoga you will eventually have complete control over your own life and everyone else’s. Section two deals with using sexual positions to dominate another person. For this you will need a male partner of your choice.

Mia giggled - dominating boys sounded pretty fun. This body was still a virgins body, but she could soon see to that. In fact she had an idea of exactly what to do next.

Summer’s hot boyfriend Morgan lived a few doors down he was sure to be easy prey to her new body and mind.

Stopping off at the fitness store to buy some new clothes, trainers and a portable fitness mat, Mia walked over and knocked on his door. Morgan’s eyes lit up as he opened the door to see the incredible hottie on his door-step.

“Uhhh, can I help you?”

“Ohhhh like hi! I’m Mia and I’m giving out like free Yoga lessons and demonstrations to promote my Personal Trainer business. Would you be like interested in a demo?”

Morgan grinned, damn right he’d be interested in a demo.

“Sure, come in. Mia huh? Cute name - there’s some fat bitch lives up the street called Mia, but she’s nothing like you. You’re the hottest girl I ever saw... ummm except for my girlfriend Summer of course.”

Laying down her mat, Mia smiled. Morgan was clearly enraptured with her. He still had some loyalty to Summer, but once she began the positions the Bitchi-Yoga book had taught her, that wouldn’t matter.

The positions shown here allow you to seduce any man and enslave him to your pussy. Once he fucks you, he will become your obsessed lover and do anything for you. He will shower you with money, gifts and clothes & worship the ground you walk on. Use them to make any man you want yours

Mia grinned. Making Morgan into her boyfriend would be a just payback for all the years of bullying Summer had subjected her to. Besides, he was hot, rich and had a big cock - perfect boyfriend material.

“Just relax and watch me,” purred Mia soothingly as she began to perform her Bitchi-Yoga poses. As she stretched and positioned her lithe blonde body, Morgan’s dick began to get hard. A horny haze overcame him and he began to feel a desire to fuck Mia grow and grow. He had never wanted to fuck a slut as much as this sexy bitch and the thought of cheating on Summer and banging this incredible sexpot was suddenly overwhelming.

“I call this position, the ‘blowjob’ position,” giggled Mia as she went to her knees and opened her wet pink mouth. “Why don’t you join in and help me with these poses; I think we know you want to.”

Morgan stood up and Mia helped slide his pants down. His dick sprang out and with a moan he slid it between her lips. She slurped eagerly on his cock. She had never sucked cock before, but her new body was saturated with sluttiness and it came naturally to her.

“Mmmmmmhhhh, your cock tastes so good and it’s soooooo big,” moaned Mia as she worshiped his dick.

“You have the perfect equipment to help me with the next pose - downwards doggy-fuck. Are you ready baby?”

Mia moaned as she positioned herself appropriately and slid down her leggings to give access to her glistening slit. Morgan grabbed her hips and impatiently slid his big dick into her tight wet pussy. He needed to be inside her so badly. Mia gasped as he went deeper and deeper, taking her virginity at last. It hurt a little at first, but as he started to fuck her it began to feel really good. She was finally becoming a slut and she loved it.

“Damn, you’re a virgin your pussy is so tight, I think I’m in love with you,” groaned Morgan as he fell deeper and deeper under Mia’s spell.

"Yes Morgan, fuck me I love it,” giggled Mia as her lover fucked her good and she fully embraced her role as a teasing, tempting homewrecker. No man would be safe from her now she had this body and the Bitchi-Yoga techniques to steal any man she wanted.

Soon Mia was riding on top of Morgan as he helplessly bucked and moaned beneath her, completely under the control of her pussy and perfect sexual techniques. As she orgasmed repeatedly and bounced on his dick, Mia was already wondering what other wicked secrets the book could teach her. She was determined to fully master every element of Bitchi-Yoga and become a total slut - the next few weeks were going to be lots of fun and no one was going to stand in her way.

Mia was fit now... and she was never looking back.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption

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