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milk-ducts · 5 months

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I'm so glad to have encountered a fellow Cecil stan. I freaking love coming up with headcanons for Cecil, platonic or romantic, because he's such an interesting character. For real though feel free to dump any Cecil headcanons (platonic or romantic) on me anytime.

AWAAAA!! YES HAII OTHER CECIL AFICIONADO !!! im so glad theres more of us sprouting out here. my wife is so underappreciated, you have no idea how much he means to me. i'd love to req n swap headcanons anytime !! I have so many thoughts on that morally ambiguous gilf.

[messy, disorganized surface level autism rambling ahead. this will be just random scenes and characteristics i like of him]

BUT YES .. cecil's character is just so interesting to analyze. he does unethical, necessary things. But he doesn't subscribe to idealistic notions of "the greater good" or justifying his actions to make himself sleep better at night. He knows the harsh reality that someone has to make the difficult decisions, no matter how unethical. The psychological toll it takes to calculate how many civilian lives can be spared, and how many are inevitably lost in order to achieve the optimal outcome. He doesn't celebrate after victories like the other heroes do. After the dust settles, his mind is already racing - calculating, strategizing how to prevent future catastrophes. How to minimize casualties next time.

his methods are...questionable,, as ive said,, but there's a hint of nobility to it that just makes you respect him, A SHADY GOVERNMENT CHAR that does the dirty work and takes in all the heat for it so no one else has to? SIGN ME TF UP! i love exploring his character and all the little glimpses of humanity we get to see from him,, especially with debbie, SO SOFT FOR HER, there's so much depth there. that old fuck would MOVE mountains for her if he could,, TRUST. EVEN though he doesnt deserve her .. <<

LETS CONTINUE TO CIRCLE BACK TO S1 with his confrontation w Nolan in the desert, the way he entrusted his survival to the skills of his team operating that teleporter watch (I'm aware he can control it himself, I think this was just my interpretation of it since the employees seemed directly involved here). The margin for error was nonexistent. One miscalculation, one millisecond too slow, and Cecil would have been reduced to a red smear across miles of sand. MY WIFE HAS BALLS ON HIM. (also love walton goggins breathy lil giggles here .. hwaghffhh)

All this, All the whilst Nolan could have ended him with a casual backhand, as easily as swatting a fly. And for what? For humanity's (mostly his) right to know the truth. For Debbie's right to understand what she had truly married because Cecil respects her that fucking much for her to have a part in all of this, and what fate may lay in store for her son.

AND what I particularly liked about that scene is that unlike most SHADY GOV CHARS ™.. Cecil isn't afraid to regularly place himself in life-threatening situations, and for that im just.. FKING obsessed. finally. a hyper competent gov char that gets shit done and occasionally by his own hands instead of always puppeteering in the shadows. Love u .. love u honey snooch, please stop putting yourself in danger for your crazy alien side-hoes .

but ahem ... back to s2.. and some flaws of his that i'm not afraid to point out. the way he's been treating mark is killing me. manipulating my son by comparing him to his dad then keeping him on lock by saying he's not like him??? The breadcrumming definitely didn't work out at all, cuz Mark is too damn stubborn to continue to be swindled by fear tactics he does not give a shit for anymore (homegirl DEBBIE taught him better) hes not gonna listen to a cranky skullet-having side bitch of nolans who clearly has been tryna manipulate him since s1. i HATED how he went "ur broke tyrannical bitch father felt the same way" in the last minute when mark tried to leave earth and yet i still lobve ceci cause ough,,.. my bastard wife knew something was probably up.

Him wanting to keep a short leash on MARKY could be summed up after all that has happened in s1. i'm not going to justify his scummy manipulations or paranoia,, especially after all the shit mark has done and endured to prove himself over and over again that he's not like his father BUT its somewhat understandable for cecil 2 be wary if you look from it in his perspective.

moving on from that, lets dive back into ep 2 ..

Debbie was semi-right in her deduction in s2 ep2, that this is what it's really all about for Cecil - being in control. Not of any situation, but of Mark. To ensure history does not repeat itself in the form of Mark becoming another Nolan. imo He likely doesn’t actually view Mark as his father, Not saying the possibility of it being a part of Cecil's subconsciousness is out of the equation but the way I see it? He was just exploiting that one weakness, that one insecurity Mark has - the fear of becoming like Nolan. And it’s a fear Cecil seemed to prey upon to keep Mark under his thumb and in the fucking GAME.

awaaaa :3 !!!! psychologically damaging teens by comparing them to their abhorrently shitty fathers !! FUCK YOJ STEDMAN (love you snookums..)

,,,,I'd also like to think in my warped deluded perception (aka hcs) that he sees Debbie in Mark, so he can't help but care for the kid too. IVE ALWAYS seen a lot of comparisons between Mark and his dad, plus the whole motif of this new season hasn't helped it allay. But Debbie and Mark share so many similar characteristics as well and i wish that was talked a bit more often < 3 (I will go in depth about it at a later post.)

n umm like ...,,, bck to cici in gen. I guess the safety of earth is one of Cecil's redeeming qualities along with his compassion for side characters like Debbie. His pragmatism and utilitarianism define him. He lacks normal morals but has his own code that cultivates to his character. this ramble could not do justice to him ughfglg..,, what a compelling jezebel.. how can u captivate me so !!

My inbox is always open to discuss this multi-faceted rat man. here's to more cecil content in s2..,... hopefully with more of his dynamic with Debbie because I LIVE for that shit. though its unlikely their interactions could range to anything positive now since they may be hinting to cecil becoming an antagonist and/or taking extreme measures w/ mark. soo.. i dont think debbie's scolding was enough for that slut 2 take in ..

in the mean time i'll be catching up on the comics/re-reading them, look up more of his backstory and hopefully create 10 novels worth of google docs of analysis' of his character < 3 cuz .. he means .. that much 2 me.. and i want to prod at every crevice n brain matter he has inside that megamind head of his .

((hwaghhhhhh << hoping that one day the discord moots ive been keeping in my basement and most invincible fans fall victim to cecil stedman propoganda.. no one should be immune to my girlboss and his awful skullet.))

#invincible #invincible season 2 #cecil stedman #omni man #invincible spoilers #debbie grayson #mark grayson #longest paragraph of me saying i want to fuck an old man but rewording it in a semi-melodramatic way ..#SORRY FOR USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO RAMBLE !! please go check out superbangelhearts blog; cecil stans . i love their yan headcanons alot .#this was SOOO messy n disorganized #milkyasks #milkyrambles #i think he should be fucked by every adult char in the show #i love him so much .. he has been infesting my fking brain.#I think alot of people confuse his ends justify the means for actual justification n self righteousness . but THERES no indication of that #IN THE SHOW.#hes self aware to a considerable extent over what he does #wrote this at 4am plsss give me a break ...#i would swallow a gallon of acid for him .#so much msgs in my inbox .. i apologize for not being able 2 answer them quickly :( this is still very new 2 me #im like a boomer getting used 2 smartphones... typing w my pinky finger as we speak..#slobbers n chews on his gnarled knuckles #idkfkk whts WONG W ME ! HELP ! MY PSSYS GONE CRAZYY !!! /ref #this was mainly just pinpointing random parts i liked ab cecil not really an analysis

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desib717 · 4 months

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Ok so I saw this post yesterday, and while I'm not entirely on board with the main body of the post, this part of OP's tags did catch my attention:

I had never seen anyone draw a comparison between the two scenes, so I went to take a look, and I can definitely see the similarities:

Both have dark voids as the background, with a star-like effect from the distant floating orbs, the orbs in each location are of a similar size, and have the same sort of glow around them, and as is pointed out in the tags, the green Afteran souls are moving towards whatever comes next for them, while those from Remnant are stationary.

Now, because I' obviously going to make this about Penny, there are a couple of interesting ways that this connect to her:

The first is the out of place golden colour of the Maiden power transfer to Winter. There are several theories as to why it was golden instead of green, but with the information that souls in Remnant seem to be golden in colour, maybe this indicates that her entire soul was transferred, rather than just aura? Souls and aura are separate things after all, despite being very closely related.

The second interesting thing to note is that if these are in fact souls from Remnant, then that would imply that the central location of the portals is Remnants equivalent of the Blacksmith's workshop, and so the fact that Penny died there could maybe be significant. The Brother Gods took away the concept of Ascension from this world the created, but would they be able to remove it entirely from a place this closely connected to it?

And this last one is admittedly a reach, but I was thinking about Penny's voice being in Ruby's head in the beginning of V9, as well as the fact that she was subconsciously draw to the Jade Marionette before she knew what it was, and it made me wonder if this moment from when Ruby was falling might have been another instance of Ruby being drawn to Penny's soul, and perhaps causing some sort of connection between them?

#Enjoy my completely disorganized stream-of-consciousness style thoughts they're very messy :)#Penny Polendina #RWBY #greenlight volume 10 #< I really need to get better at remembering to use that tag

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kyouka-supremacy · 2 years

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I'm so obsessed with this intense cyan color scheme all the new Fifteen illustrations are carrying on... It's so eye-catching and distinctive, and so strikingly different compared to the palettes that represented Beast. Where Beast's color schemes were summarized in the strong and impactful red that evoked impressions of blood and violence (examples below), the new Fifteen's light and saturated blue is so energic and youthful and hopeful even?

I'm blown away by how effortlessly the artist can switch from a color scheme that perfectly embodies the tragic themes of Beast to one that speaks of youth and action. And although the vibes are completely different from Beast the high level of saturation is so easy to recognize and makes it so distinctively Hoshikawa and AAAAHH I'm so in love with Hoshikawa's art

#I took the first Beast images at hand but the pattern is evident!!!! This is so cool #Also the red / blue dichotomy that is so defining of sskk and skk's partnerships eheh #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai chūya age fifteen #bsd beast #shiwasu hoshikawa art #mine #On different news: I'm not dead (╥﹏╥)#But it's been very busy days #This is messy end disorganized but I'm throwing it at you before I disappear again akdbeksvsk gotta go

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stinkrascal · 1 year

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i fucking love orange juice and whole milk. my eyes and my bones are so strong

#my bones are very weak thats the joke. even though i drink so much milk #almond milk just doesnt hit the same #ive never tried oat milk before but i did try to make it once because i saw someone on tiktok do it #it turned out awful it was the worst thing ive ever made #i want to make my own butter one day. and my own cheese too #i want to feel like im amish except i'll be liveblogging about it because im terminally online (its fatal)#im just obsessed with those videos of people on tiktok churning their own butter it fascinates me #also obsessed with the videos of people cleaning their house i think its so nice. AND THE VIDEOS WHERE PEOPLE HAVE ALL THOSE CONTAINERS #AND THEY PUT ALL THEIR FOOD ITEMS AND LAUNDRY ITEMS IN THEIR FANCY CLEAR CONTAINERS #with those minimalist labels UNNNNNNNNFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF its so fucking sexy im literally gonna shit my pants #im the most disorganized and messy person i know so those videos give me inspiration to be cleanly and whatever #I WANT TO CHURN BUTTER i wish i had a butter churning. manifesting that soon i'll get a butter churning and make butter #read my 1am butter thoughts boy #a butter churner not a butter churning. my brain is fried

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elytrafemme · 11 months

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the vast majority of the reason why i’ve abstained from getting a professional diagnosis is practical-- i already have a therapist (she just doesn’t like to diagnose, it’s not part of her practice but within her qualifications). it would fuck up my insurance in the long-term and complicate other systemic processes. i don’t need medication nor do i need accommodations so having a diagnosis wouldn’t really help me. it opens the floor to traumatic experiences, will likely cost a lot of money, and would again be trapped on my record for years upon years.

but jesus christ, i wish i had half the confidence that other people can have with self-diagnosis. because even if i have my therapist basically stating that she thinks bpd explains several of my symptoms, and having said that the best way to explain my experiences to other people is by using bpd as a reference, i still cannot wholly convince myself that this is the issue. and i have researched for years and years so it isn’t that, i just. i need someone to look me in the eyes and tell me but if i get that, i get the rest of this too.

#nightmare.personal #it's also hard with BPD because. and i'm not saying this in a way of like ohhh haha it wasn't that bad [was objectively awful]#my childhood by any objective measurement Was Not Terrible #like yeah i have disorganized attachment patterns but that's iffy. it was non-abusive. things weren't great but they were damn good.#stuff just got messy once i turned eleven but by then you're basically old enough for that to not matter as much #but even then like. things are consistently Not Horrible for me i have lived a remarkably lucky life #and like there's the missing puzzle piece of it all but i'm beginning to suspect that whatever i imagine i repressed never truly happened #and if it did it wouldn't matter i'm never going to remember. so the point is like #yes the symptoms track yes it is the best explanation i've found to this #but there are still holes in this diagnosis and i'm never going to feel secure in it #and i'm exhausted and i just want to know that i have some kind of explanation #because even if it causes people to treat me kind of shitty at least they know why i act like this #but if that's not the right explanation and i have to go back to square one #having no kind of reasoning behind why i act so uncharacteristic very suddenly or why i get really hostile apropos of nothing #and then send you texts threatening sh before messaging again like hey do u wanna see this funny video #getting into relationships and treating them icily before jumping in so deep that they become my everything #i can't go back to the time where there was nothing to explain it. where people just didn't know why i acted like this #but i don't know if i've reached an actual explanation or if i'm just desperately searching for anything to fix this #and if anyone could tell me objectively in a way that i believed. that might destroy me but it could also fix this #neg #God i'm exhausted

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kintatsujo · 2 years

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I have exactly one "trick" for cleaning and I still haven't quite consistently kept it from backfiring sometimes

Getting a TV dinner tray table and using it to put things on when you either can't figure out where they go or you can't put them back quite yet

The way this can "backfire" is that I have two that turned into permanent furniture in my kitchen (I can't find a low table small enough to fill that space instead) and a third one that Invid has essentially co opted as a couch side table, so I had to keep getting a new TV dinner tray table XD

Obviously it's not so much a backfiring as it is that it turned out that space created by the tray table needed to exist there permanently, but... sheesh

#My kitchen has very little counter space and I function better with a lot of counter space #The situation by the couch is more of an ad hoc thing #A thing that happens to me a lot is messy disorganized shelves so I like to take everything off the shelf and put it back more organized

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electro-scorpion-moving · 8 months

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ought to dig up the rest of my wn post drafts and, well, post em finally

#.r rambles #unfortunately they are all in a very disorganized and messy notepad with tons and tons of disorganized notes #but ah well

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ms-demeanor · 10 months

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Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

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syddsatyrn · 3 months

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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter 1

(Click here for Chapter 2)

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

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The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes.

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally.

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization.

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face.

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle.

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents.

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day.

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The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face.

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip.

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

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

He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

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

It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs.

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper.

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor

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extervus · 1 year

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@ anon I am typing up a reply as we speak but my battery is at 9% + my hands are sore from typing so much so I've saved a draft and will continue it here soon lmao I PROMISE

#shut up max #i was kinda feeling bad in terms of how i was typing it up cause its very messy and kinda disorganized #but i suppose thats a given with infodumping sometimes so here we are

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wiitzend · 2 years

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cannot believe that i hit writer’s block just as i was making progress with my story.

#i hate writing plots it bugs me so fucking much!! like i love it but i hate it #it feels very messy and disorganized...like i'm just making shit up as i go and the story is everywhere #i really wanted to get this second draft finished by the end of summer but i don't think it's going to happen now #sick of this story just get finished already!

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cultreslut · 2 years

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i need a new dresser im so sick of mine eugh

#its not that its too small but it only has 3 drawers which makes it very difficult to store large amnts of smaller items (socks #undies etc)#so its super disorganized and messy :(#driving me insane !

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deunmiu-dessie · 30 days

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ⅰ ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑜𝓁𝒻 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements explicit content, teratophilia, monster/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference, dacryphilia, ( slight?? ) somnophilia, cunnilingus, knotting. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you're invited to the bar by your bestfriend, barb. things go awry. ꒰m!werewolf ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒜s you drift in and out of a light slumber, the sudden sound of your phone jolts you awake. The room is enveloped in darkness, and a chill lingers in the air, reminding you that you forgot to close the window. You shift in bed, directing your gaze towards the nightstand, and reach out to grab your phone, squinting against its blinding brightness. Running a hand through your tousled hair, you sit up and flick on the nearby lamp, illuminating the room.

As you settle in, your eyes slowly adapt to the light, allowing you to observe your surroundings. Glancing at your phone once more, you notice the time - it's already 9:27 PM. Your friend tried calling you five times, with the first call going unanswered for ten minutes.

As you slide out of bed, you stretch your arms and legs, grimacing at the sounds of your joints cracking. You brush your hands through your hair and make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, and leaning against the sink, letting out a sigh at the sight of the bags under your eyes. Your lithe fingers gently pull at the skin under your eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Sighing, your arms drop to your side before lifting them to twist the faucet handle.

You bend down and form a makeshift bowl with your hands, sleepily awaiting the rush of water. The liquid cascades into your palms, filling them with a refreshing embrace. With a swift motion, you splash the cold water onto your face, instantly jolting your senses awake.

Huffing out a sigh, you shut off the tap, taking a brief pause to relish in the quietness of your home, before reaching for a soft hand towel to gently pat your face dry. Tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, you pivot on your heels and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind you.

Glancing around the room, you notice the scattered clothing on the floor and your disorganized dresser, and as much as you wanted to clean it, you simply lacked the motivation. Your gaze swiftly shifts away from the mess and you clear your throat.

"Hey, Alexa, Call Barb back."

As her robotic voice obediently chimes, you collapse onto your messy bed, emitting a groan in response to the piercing sound resonating in your ears. A brief moment of silence passes before you're taken aback, startled by Barb's exuberant cheer.

" Thank god! I thought you were dead! What are you doing right now?" The ambiance of music and conversation engulfs her, prompting yet another sigh from you- the nth one since you've woken up. You're now well aware of the reason for her call, but you're not in the mood to socialize or have a drink.

After all, this was your only free weekend for the next month or so; and besides, you had already planned a date with a tub of ice cream and a marathon of horror movies.

"I just woke up from a nap, where are you? It's loud."

The woman softly utters a flustered 'stop', likely to a guy she's flirting with. Barb clears her throat to hide a giggle. "I'm at a bar with Crystal and Kevin. Please come down!" The idea of socializing at that moment sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you adored Barb, her offer didn't tempt you in the slightest.

Actually, the idea of socializing at that moment sent mind-numbing shivers down your spine, and just as you were about to decline, her following words elicit a gentle chuckle from you.

"And! Before you say no, I promise I won't ask you to come to any events for the next three months." The anxiety in her voice is palpable, and it begins to chip away at your resolve, her small whine finally breaks you and with a sigh, you find yourself smiling at her proposal. "Fine, send me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. "

The place is bustling with noise and the unmistakable smell of sweat as you navigate your way to the bar. From the entrance, you catch sight of Barb's eye-catching cotton candy pink hair. She's engaged in light-hearted banter with a burly man, and although you hesitate to interrupt, you do so anyway.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, you bask in the comforting aroma that surrounds her. Barb was an absolute doll, and the instant connection you both had when introduced by a mutual friend three years ago is still strong. Barb was practically the sole reason you weren't a recluse.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she affectionately placed her hand on your cheek. "That you babe?" She turns around as she hears your approving hum, and her gaze falls upon your attire. It wasn't flashy, considering this is just a bar. Your legs are clad in mom jeans, complemented by a band tee and a pair of chunky combat boots. In contrast to Barb's tight red dress, you may seem a bit underdressed, but your intention wasn't to find a hookup tonight; you're here to catch up with Barb.

She pressed her lips together, but eventually gave in and rolled her eyes before pulling you into a warm hug, without getting up from her seat.

" Henry, this is my best friend. " she beamed at you and playfully raised her eyebrows. "Bestie, this is Henry."

You cast your eyes towards him, uninterested."Hey, how are you?"

Without waiting for his response, you plant a kiss on Barb's forehead and gesture towards the other end of the bar. "I'll grab a drink and then search for Kevin and Crystal."

Barb's lips formed a pout as she nodded, her expression turning stern. "Don't leave without telling me okay?" You acknowledged her request with a nod, waving her off and making your way to the stool at the end of the counter, collapsing onto the chair, and releasing a weary sigh.

The bartender looked at you expectantly, prompting you to bite the inside of your cheek before simply requesting water - you had no intention of drinking tonight. Your eyes flit over the bar, taking small sips from your water bottle, looking for any eye candy. Eventually, your gaze landed on a man wearing a red, dirtied beanie, his eyes lowered. He's big and burly, with dark hair covering his forearms and a thick beard.

Your heart stutters in your chest, prompting you to clench your thighs together. His sun-kissed complexion exuded an irresistible aura of feral masculine energy, that made your nipples perk up and harden. You discreetly averted your eyes, taking a gulp of water to quell the sudden and embarrassing rush of desire.

Stealing another glance, your heart skips a beat when his hazel eyes meet yours. Flustered, you quickly look away, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had just got caught ogling a sexy hunky man, and you'd probably been drooling too.

You set your water bottle on the counter and pat your cheeks with your cold hands. Gradually mustering the courage, you decide to approach the man- the intimidating but hot man who sat in a booth alone. As you prepare to stand up, you are startled to find him just a few steps away from you, gaze searing and unwavering.

Towering at 6'4, he appeared even more imposing in person, his muscles clearly defined beneath his jacket. Despite your jitters, you offer a smile and a nod in his direction. His eyes briefly leave yours, locking with the bartender's. A surge of desire courses through you, his voice is deep and velvet-smooth, and it has your stomach in knots.

"Another bourbon."

His eyes fixated on you, captivating your very being and luring you into a trance. A timid squeak escaped your lips as you retreated into your shell - he exuded an aura of sheer intimidation. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth accompanied a subtle nod, but little else. You couldn't help but feel foolish for even attempting to engage with him because even though he didn't wear an expensive suit or look well off, he was way out of your league. At least, that's how it felt.

As he grabs the glass of bourbon, he disappears into the shadows of his lonely little booth. You feel the urge to approach him but two things hold you back– one- you don't know what you would say and two– you really have to pee.

Downing the last drops of water, you bring the bottle with you to throw in the garbage can. Suddenly, you come to a halt, noticing the lengthy line forming at the restroom — that was like a thirty-minute wait, you couldn't possibly hold your pee for that long.

The longer you pondered your next move, the more your bladder seemed to betray you. Your only choice was to venture outside and take care of business in the back. You clenched your jaw, cursed under your breath, and hurried to the back door. As you made your way, you locked eyes with Barb at the bar and gestured towards your urgent need. She responded with a nod and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out into the cool night air, feeling its gentle touch on your skin.

The town may have been small, but it possessed an allure that captivated its inhabitants. It wasn't the kind of place where everyone knew each other, yet it still retained an intimate charm. Nestled at the edge of town, this bar stood amidst the endless forest that enveloped the surroundings. It was easy to get lost in there.

Into the heart of the forest, you went, careful to avoid prying eyes as you attended to your needs, wary of the consequences if caught by the property owner or law enforcement. As you made your way through the trees, the dim glow of the bar faded and you continued to walk until you had to squint to see the bar lights.

The sound of your belt coming undone echoed through the stillness of the area and you feel your skin crawl with anxiousness. You can hear the steady stream of your pee hitting the leafy-covered ground and you cringe at the loudness of the sound. After you make sure you're at least a bit dry down there, you stand and pull your pants up. As you adjust yourself, a rustle in front of you makes your heart race.

Your hands freeze at your belt buckle, a deep, low, guttural growl meets your ears and suddenly you can see golden irises looking towards you. It's a wolf. Fear grips you as you step back, trembling with terror. As your eyebrows knit together, your gaze intensifies upon the creature before you. There is no denying its identity as a wolf, yet its sheer size is awe-inspiring, towering over you. Its maw is much too big, its teeth much too large and its physique exudes strength.

What the hell were you looking at?

It takes a step forward, snarling at you. Your body quivers with nervous energy, unable to find calm, unable to focus. Without hesitation, you pivot on your foot and sprint away, your eyes scanning the surroundings with newfound intensity - every obstacle, every tree, every shadow. Uncertain if the predator is gaining on you, uncertain if more have joined in on the chase - you refuse to look back. The snarls and the sound of rapid footsteps fade momentarily. Breathing becomes difficult, and your face is flushed and covered in sweat.

Seeking refuge behind a tree, you struggle to regain composure, your heart racing wildly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Crack

Sprinting away, driven by an insatiable desire for safety, you disregard the possibility that it might not be the wolf. You suddenly experience an excruciating pain that travels up your ankle, causing an ear-piercing shriek to erupt from your throat and obscure your vision with tears.

Your skull collides with the rugged terrain, engulfing your vision in darkness for a fleeting moment. As your mind gradually regains clarity, you steal a glance at your ankle, recoiling at the sight of the weathered bear trap sinking its fangs into your flesh. Thankfully, the wound appears shallow, and you offer a silent gratitude to God.

Crunch

You lack the strength to budge, even though it's not causing any real harm; the agony is unbearable. The wolf draws nearer, yet its snarls transform into a plaintive whine. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open, as your body becomes paralyzed by the sensation of its scorching breath against your face.

It continues its advance, until it reaches your leg, eliciting a whimper from you as its jaws envelop it. Although no additional pain ensues, the sound of fabric rending fills your ears. With trepidation, you finally summon the courage to open your eyes, only to find half of your pant leg ripped away.

Crack, Crack

Bones are breaking, you can hear every crack and also see them breaking under the wolf's fur. As the wolf's fur ripples, you witness the gruesome spectacle of bones splintering beneath its skin. A sickening sensation rises in your throat, causing you to retch violently onto the verdant grass below. The cracking stops but you make no move to look again.

The searing agony dissipates, replaced by the faint rustling of metal being pried apart and discarded with a metallic clink. A rough, yet tender and moist touch glides over your wound, gradually erasing the numbness that enveloped you. The scorching pain that once tormented you is now but a distant memory.

Facing the creature, you realize it has grown even larger, standing at an impressive 9 feet tall. Its massive frame is covered in thick, dark fur, making it almost impossible to discern its true shape. The only colors visible are the glowing gold of its eyes and the pink knot nestled against your thigh. You swallow heavily and avert your eyes quickly, eyes flitting to the wolf's face.

Your heart races as you feel its large hand holding your leg, the gentle touch of its claws sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of its tongue brushing against your skin sends waves of pleasure through your body, despite the fear that grips you. His nose twitches, his eyes flicking towards you, the tension in his muscles palpable.

Your body quivers like a leaf, appearing fragile and small beneath the werewolf, so easily breakable. You can feel his cock stiffening even more, almost impossibly so. Reluctantly, you retract your leg from his grasp, edging back slowly. He watches you with intelligent eyes, tracking your every motion. Struggling to rise, you opt to flip onto your hands and knees, clutching a nearby tree for support— still uncertain of your 'healed' ankle.

There's a pressure on your waist, claws teasing your delicate hips, barely breaking the skin, and you cry out as your pants are torn from your legs, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He pauses for a moment, snout coming close to your sex before sniffing deeply. As tears cascade down your cheeks, you instinctively lash out, kicking your leg in a desperate attempt to distance yourself.

Your combat boot forcefully collides with its face, a feeble protest that is met with a mocking snort. With a single swipe of its claw, your delicate undergarments are effortlessly torn apart, leaving your hole quivering, and juices leaking without permission. Drawing nearer, its snout radiates warmth, causing you to recoil, your eyes squeezed shut. Yet, they swiftly snap open as its wide, elongated, and moist tongue begins to sensually lap at you, the roughness of its muscular appendage gently grazing your entrance and occasionally slipping inside.

Against your will, you're moaning loudly. Your eyes roll back and your lower lip is trapped between your teeth. The hand that was holding onto the tree is now on its snout, attempting to push it away. Your face is pressed into the ground, your back arched in a deliciously painful curve, and your ass is raised high in the air.

It laps at you eagerly like a thirsty dog, and you're lost in a sea of pleasure, moaning and pleading for more, despite yourself. You love every second of this, and it makes you feel disgusted with how enamored you are at what this monster's tongue is doing to you.

You're enveloped in a sea of pure white, as its tongue explores the depths of your being, gently caressing your sensitive spots and teasing your g-spot. It's tongue fucking you so well, like it possesses an intimate map of your body. Its tail sways rhythmically as your trembling thighs embrace its snout, cum dripping onto its eager tongue. Your body spasms with pleasure, and it revels in its satisfaction.

Your pussy tightens slightly, releasing your desire onto your inner thighs, playfully winking at the creature, enticing it to take you. Its hands encircle your waist, contrasting your size against it. The tip of its red cock is lined with your entrance and it finds it a bit difficult to slip the head in at first, you're a tight squeeze.

" No. No, it won't fit!" It's thick and long, and so much bigger than a normal cock, and that thought terrifies you. You shriek as it inches into you slowly, pussy stretching to attempt to accommodate its thickness. You shake your head, crawling forward and attempting to escape the overwhelming intrusion. However, its deep snarl makes you whimper and freeze.

You weakly resist one last time, wriggling your hips to stop it from completely ruining you for any other man, but as it sinks into your quivering, messy cunt, you stop struggling.

Despite the tension in its muscles, it takes its time. The beast is exceptionally thick, so its cock is heavy inside you. The drag of its bulbous tip on your g-spot has you whimpering and drooling over yourself. Abruptly its massive frame envelops you, hands firmly gripping your hips.

How ironic, a canine-like creature ravishing you in the primal position of doggy style.

With a powerful thrust, it plunges its rigid cock deep inside you, its pelvis pressing against your ass. The weighty orbs of its balls collide against your clit, brimming with cum, and despite knowing you shouldn't, you crave every drop of its hot seed.

Your sight becomes hazy, and the world around you blurs as pleasure consumes you. It's an overwhelming sensation that brings tears to your eyes. Each touch from it sends electric shocks through your body, it's touching every nerve inside of you effortlessly. Despite feeling completely satisfied, a deep craving for more remains. The desire to feel it cum inside of you.

With each thrust, a creamy white residue encircles its cock and you're not sure how you've cum so many times in such a short period, but your eager, filthy little hole is starting to feel tender and sensitive. You're whining and whimpering, a blubbering mess below it. You need more.

It starts to speed up, hips stuttering, and a whine building in its throat. With one final forceful thrust, it buries itself deep inside you. Its primal roar echoes in your ears, yet you lack the strength to shield them.

The wet, erotic sound as it pumps you full of cum makes you orgasm once more. Your poor slutty hole clenching around it. You've lost track of time since you left the bar, and you don't know how long the two of been fucking. Exhaustion washes over you, and all you desire is to return home.

However, it appears that th beast has different intentions. Suddenly, it lifts you up, positioning itself on its hindlegs, and you find yourself sitting upright on its throbbing cock. One of its hands ventures beneath your band tee, discovering your erect nipples, while the other firmly grips your hip, effortlessly thrusting you onto its shaft as if you were its own personal fleshlight. Its muzzle nuzzles against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, even though exhaustion consumes you.

–

When you came to, you were relieved to find yourself at your house, believing that maybe you had dreamt it, it couldn't have been real. But the evidence of your wild night with that beast is undeniable - the sticky puddle of cum on your sheets and the missed calls and texts from Barb serve as a tantalizing reminder. You can't remember how long he used your body for his pleasure but you do remember leaving a pool of cum where the two stayed that night. Though, one text stands out to you.

"Babe, a man came up to me earlier and said that he enjoyed you last night. WTF?! Bitch, spill."

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ineffableteeth · 2 months

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So I was rewatching Good omens and I realized something.

Season 2 brings up Memory. A lot

Specifically Crowleys memory

In every episode something is said about it and I find this really interesting

I’m only going to bring up what I think are major, I want to note there are more instances than this. This is gonna be messy and a little disorganized since I’m just throwing my words on this post as I think of them and read the episode transcripts but I had to write it out.

In Episode 1 we see pre-fall Crowley and are introduced to our amnesiac archangel. This will be important later

We don’t see much of Crowleys memory loss in this episode but the biggest example I could find was the way Beelzebub had said Extreme Sanctions after Crowley misunderstood

It was as if they were expecting him to remember

In Episode 2 we get the first blatant hint of Crowleys memory loss

When Gabriel said he couldn’t remember, Crowley doesn’t say “Well try anyway”

He says “Yes you can.”

Crowley knew Gabriel could remember, he knew he could make himself remember. As if he knew it from experience.

Also in this episode we get Crowleys “I’m a demon, I lied.” As well as several other instances where he lies in this episode.

I also feel like his “Lonliness” is important to point out, because I feel like that goes much much deeper than “[I’m on] my side”

In Episode 3 we get Crowley and Gabriel’s Conversation about “Gravity”

Crowley knows what gravity is on a base level. But he says “I don’t remember” when asked why gravity exists and proceeds to give a very nondescript explanation

Now for Episode 4. This episode is actually what triggered me to start looking for these instances.

Because of Furfur

Near the end of the episode when Furfur enters the dressing room he mentions that him and Crowley were directly next to eachother during the Great War, as well as the fact Crowley used to jump on his back “Like a little monkey in a waistcoat”

And Crowley didn’t remember

All he remembered was going to war

Why does Furfur — A demon — remember but Crowley doesn’t?

In Episode 5 we get one of the most crucial ‘memory’ scenes imo

The aftermath of Crowley threatening Gabriel

When Gabriel tells Crowley “It hurts to remember, my head isn’t built for that” Crowley replies with “I know, do it anyway”

Again it sounds like Crowley is speaking from experience

The most important quote to me though is when Crowley says “I know, looking at where the furniture isn’t.”

Because after the fact he proceeds to ask Gabriel if he wants a hot chocolate

This wasn’t a sympathetic action. It was Empathetic.

He feels for Gabriel, he knows what it’s like to not know

Finally in Episode 6 we get context.

This is where the whole amnesiac archangel comes into play.

Before I get into that though I want to bring up Crowleys meeting with Saraquael. Because something interesting stood out to me while reading her voicelines. After Crowley asks “Do we know eachother?” Saraquael says “When you were an Angel” and pauses before she says the following voiceline “We worked together on the horsehead nebula”

Those were two different sentences. I’m definitely looking too far into this but to me it sounded like she knew he wouldn’t remember so she gave unnecessary context. This as well as the fact she didn’t respond when Crowley essentially said he didn’t remember her.

Back to my original point though, during this episode we finally learn how (and why) Gabriel lost his memories. Angels can remove their own memories as well as have their memories removed by other angels.

But clearly Furfur still has his memories, as well as Shax, Dagon, and Beelzebub

And anytime Crowley mentions “remembering” something it’s post-fall

Adding on Neil’s post about “Crowley not being a reliable narrator on his fall” as well as showing Crowley pre-fall in episode one leads me to believe there’s some foreshadowing in there and something happened to Crowleys memory.

But What?

Why doesn’t he remember?

What did they do to him?

#good omens #crowley #crowley good omens #good omens crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowphale #ineffable husbands #gay omens #aziraphale x crowley #good omens aziracrow #aziracrow good omens #crowphale good omens #good omens crowphale #aziraphale good omens #good omens aziraphale #crowley loves aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #good omens theory

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Text

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni, fem!reader // mating press, mentions of breeding, husband!bakugou (yes, he's aged up)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 700+

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

𝗕𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗚𝗢𝗨 fucks you in whichever way he can think of.

Sometimes it’s up against the shower wall, when he has your back pressed to the wet tiles and he still wears that same conceited smirk that had first ghosted over his rosy lips the moment you had offered the lame excuse of saving up on water by showering together.

Other times it’s him fucking you from behind; hands and thrusts alike from how harsh and greedy they are as you try not to sweat too much because you’re both still dressed in your work clothes, and he’s got you bent over the now-disorganized desk in his fancy office – your tear-stained cheek flushed against the expensive wood.

He fucks you while standing up, making you watch yourself in the mirror whilst the only part of him you can see behind you is the focused and firm line of his mouth. He fucks you sitting down, when he’s tired and drained from yet another late-night patrol, and thus lets you take charge for once; warm, scarred hands that have held so much power and destruction in the form of a spark – and still do – turning gentle and caring for a change as they slide across the curve of your hips and guide you to a faster rhythm.

He screws you when your limbs are effortlessly entangled with his own stronger ones as you lay in bed and toss around the bed sheets that he obsessively keeps washing after every more intense fuckfest. And he slams you in the car, too, when he feels like being risky for once, and decides to make you bounce on his fat cock like a little slut in heat, even though anybody could walk past and hear your kittenish moans.

Still, nothing quite hits the spot like a good ol’ mating press does.

Truthfully, you’re not sure of the reason as to why. The position could be considered rather vanilla in the eyes of many; it’s just spicy missionary, but goddammit, if it doesn’t turn your brain to mush and causes your heart to jump whenever he starts hinting he wants it. His eyes burn like fire, the red gaze fierce as he practically manhandles you into it like you’re some toy he likes to play with all the time, every time, any place, everywhere.

And perhaps you adore the position because of the angle that lets him sink his heavy cock so deep inside you that the overcapacity you feel at the intrusion makes your eyes cross and your jaw turn slack. Maybe you enjoy it because he looks absolutely beautiful whilst doing it: glimmering in sweat and panting in the midst of all the passion going on between you.

Perhaps it’s the way he reaches out and his thick digits intertwine with your own; the chill of the golden ring he had placed upon your finger a long while ago, brushing his knuckle and sending a shiver down his spine because you’re his, his, his – all his.

It might be the way he subtly dips in to reach you better, so that he can kiss you. How his warm tongue tangles with your own, and he kisses you so deeply and with such feverish desire that you lose yourself in him; fade away to a point where he has to sink his teeth into your bottom lip to bring you back to him.

How he caresses your face, brings you closer until your drool mixes with his own, and turns into something sweeter as the quiet, “I love you.” sinks into the saliva.

It’s the way he can rest his forehead against your own the moment his hips pick up pace and intent, and your knees are nearly touching your ears from the way he bends you to the brink of pain, and he has to focus to not make you ache, even though – fuck, it feels too good to do that right now.

How he watches you break over and over again, then; crumbling into nothing but pure bliss as you cry out his name in that breathless sort of tone he absolutely adores, and that truly does make him feel like a hero.

How he can breed the fuck out of you after you cum and gush and turn oh, so very messy for the third time in a row. As that ring of milky slick gathers at the base of his dick and everything feels so sloppy and hot that he’s ready to give you his all and spill, spill, spill. Until you’re dumb. Fucked out. Dripping with his cum because he’s so in love with both you and your sticky pussy.

Who knows?

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou smut #mha smut #bnha smut #biscuit drabbles #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo smut

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