#Am I crazy or is everything a reference now in my life?

[echantedtoon]

Obsession 憑 Ch39

(Warnings for Yn's wound being reopened, blood, some maids ganging up and attacking her, Yn gets bullied, Jade gets knocked out by a scrub brush, etc.)

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @supernovacoffeestop @gilded-sunrays

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

                           Part 4 Day-Night 

The silence after that was astounding to you. 

And you felt empowered by the way you had singlehandedly undone everything that they had wished to accomplish. You couldn't help but smile at the hurt look Yoriichi gave you and the glowering scowl Michikatsu gave his plate. Meanwhile their father continued to ignore everyone of you. 

The only disturbance was the clinking of chopsticks against silverware. Blissfully it was silent just the way you wanted it. This wasn't where you wanted your life to go, but you weren't going to complain about it. Especially since in the end you did gain a big victory even if it was small in the grand scheme of things. It wasn't long until a loud knocking on the other side sounded out.

"Enter."

The door slid open again but this time there was two people kneeling before the royalty inside the room. The guard from before and the older woman who had come in with Shinobu to bathe you and forced you into this ridiculous get up. 

"The head maid like you asked, Your Highness," the guard spoke. 

"Oh right." Without even looking up he asked you. "Are you sure you wouldn't want to reconsider marrying Michikatsu? You'll be treated the same as every other lowly servant here and lose any luxury."

"I'd rather work for the rest of my life." You shot Michikatsu a harsh look at the hurt look he had the audacity of giving you. 

"Suit yourself." A hand pointed to you. "That woman is to be put to work immediately. No special treatment shall be allowed."

"Yes, Your Highness. Shall that be all?", the older woman asked.

"Yes. Have a maid ready her old room for visitors. I suspect that many will be coming once the matchmaker starts setting up marriage interviews for my son."

"It shall be done, Sir."

"Good. Now take the dog away from my sight and go train her. I'm much too busy preparing for a meeting to deal with her any longer."

"Thank you for letting me talk and giving me this job," you said bowing to him no matter how MUCH you loathed doing so.

"Make sure the first thing you train her to do is to not bark until commanded!" 

You frowned angry but said nothing as you got up and just walked towards the exit. Both sets of plum red eyes following you longingly out the door where the door closed behind you with a click sound. You stood there while the older woman slowly stood up next to you and looked at you calmly with a blank face.

"Well, this is a surprise. You actually chose a life of labor over luxury."

"That luxury would've came with a terrible price." Red eyes narrowed at her. "They caused me so much grief. I'd rather work the rest of my life in servitude than to ever allow giving them the satisfaction they want. You probably think of me as crazy."

"Actually I do not fault you. There's many a woman who'd rather not be married to high ranked men. But from on this kind of talk stops." She turned serious. "From this day forth, you're now a member of staff under the Tsugikuni household. You shall not ever utter a word of disagreement towards them again lest you be punished. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Yes, Ma'am," she corrected you. "I am now your superior. You may refer to me as Ma'am or Madam or even Head Mistress if you prefer but you will address all superiors with respect and the royalty as their Highness or their lordship."

"I see. So this is the way?"

"That is right. Now the first thing we'll do is change your attire to something more fitting of your position." She then turned and started walking off. "Follow me."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Very good. Keep that profession up on you."

"Yes, Ma'am."

You followed her back up the hall and through the palace gaining more odd looks from staff and those patrolling the castle. In one case as you turned the corner, you saw one of the other maids giving you a disgusted look before turning to another maid and whispering something to her but you only focused on where the woman took you. Which was a long hallway and a big room with a large room. She beckoned you inside and you followed her into a..giant empty room except for two large doors.

"This is the maids' courters," she explained walking up to one of the doors opening it to reveal a giant closet full of many bed sheets and nearly folded clothes. "You'll get one bed set, one uniform. It's your job to clean both. Laundry day is every Thursday. Over there is the bathroom." She pointed out the other large door in here. "Work starts at three o'clock sharp every morning. By then you're expected to be up, dressed presentably, with your bed away, and awaiting for your assignments for the day. ..This looks your size."

She pulled out a plain beige uniform that matched every other maid's outfit. Plain and simple. After a moment she nodded and held it out to you to which you slowly took it.

"You get one meal a day strictly at noon. If you don't get there in time you go hungry. Bedtime is always at eight unless you're on night duty. Do you understand everything I told you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Laziness and improper behavior is not tolerated and punishments are usually bad. I don't like seeing anyone get them so you'll do best to keep your head down and follow the rules. But first thing's first. Change out of those clothes and remove the hairpin. Those are for noble ladies and you're not but a servant now. When you're finished come into the hall. I'll be assigning you a guide for the first month."

She then left you in the cold room with nothing but the empty room for company. After a moment you unfurled the drab dress and looked at it. How did your life come to this? Still you'd rather be a servant than give either of those brothers the satisfaction of having you. So you got changed leaving the fancy things behind before going back out to the hallway and finding the Madam talking to the maids you saw earlier. They seemed to be smiling and happy until you walked up to them to which they turned and narrowed their eyes.

"Ah. Good. You're here." She gestured to the two women in front of you both. "Y/n this is Sakura and Jade. They've been here far longer than you have and know the routine. For the next month you'll be working alongside them as they guide you around."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's nice to meet you both."

Through strained smiles they nodded. "Nice to meet you too. We've heard SO much about you."

"Enough talk. You three are meant to work. You're first assignment is to clean this hall and the maids' courters. Between the three of you it should be done before noon. Get started on it."

Footsteps echoed throughout the hall as she turned to leave, leaving you alone with the two women who stood there smiling at you. They looked similar. The one called Jade was slightly taller than the one called Sakura, and Sakura had a smaller nose, but otherwise they could've been the same woman. Sisters? Cousin's maybe? 

"So you're Y/n! We've heard so much about you!"

Your brow rose at the obvious fake tone she used. "Really?"

Jade nodded. "Yes! You've been all anyone can talk about....All the time. Pretty infamous." You thought that much but hearing set a feeling of annoyance in your guts. "A woman like you is pretty unheard of."

"I've been told."

"Well it's still morning. Let's get cleaning so we don't miss out on lunch." That sounded good to you. You didn't eat a thing at the breakfast and you would rather have a good lunch. "I'll get the hallway, Jade can get the room, and you'll get our bathroom! With the three of us each doing a room, we'll be a lot faster."

You were kinda annoyed that YOU were stuck cleaning up the bathroom but you just nodded. "Alright then. Sounds fine."

"Great! I'll go get everything we need."

Sakura left momentarily but came right back with a broom, giant bucket, and a scrub brush for you. Shooting you off towards the bathroom before she turned to go get the same things for herself and Jade. Fine by you. You wanted to get started and get it over with. At least with the bathroom you didn't have to go far for water. So leaving Jade alone in the hallway, you left and found yourself in a large bathroom. Big enough to probably count as a bathhouse on it's own but obviously way less fancy. You deflated slightly seeing how big it was...but sucked it up and just got to work.

Sweeping away the floors. Scrubbing the floors on hands and knees before scrubbing at the wide bathtub. You preferred not to remember the toilets. By the end of it you were tired but satisfied with everything that was done. You stepped out into the large empty counters expecting to see Jade done or at least still working but blinked when you saw no one. The dirty floor wasn't even swept. The hallway told you the same thing. It hit you instantly.

Those rats! They left you to do all the work!

Immediately a bubble of anger burnt in your guts and in frustration you three down the scrub brush you were carrying. The thud sound echoed down the long hallway as it connected with the ground attracting the attention of a guard walking by. He stopped and looked at you with a frown.

"What are you doing, Woman?!," he demanded.

You jumped at the voice but gestured. "T-Those girls..they left me to do all the work-"

"Is the work done?"

"N-No but-"

"Then shut your tongue and finish it before you're punished for insubordination!" Your jaw dropped as he turned and started patrolling again. 

Your jaw dropped at the now empty space around you before slowly picking the scrub brush back up and sighing to yourself. This would not be easy. And it was not. You spent the entire noon into the evening sweeping and getting on your hands and knees scrubbing the floors until the giant room was clean and the hallway was nearly done. You were scrubbing towards the very beginning of the hallway nearly done when you heard the sounds of two pairs of footsteps and a moment later two pairs of feet stopped in front of your eyes. You slowly looked up and found the two forms of the girls staring down at you smirking.

"Oh great! All our work is almost done."

"No thanks to you! Where did you go?!"

"To go eat. Too bad you missed out. Soup is delicious but then again you wouldn't know since you were busy."

"Why did you just leave me?"

"Because you need to know your place." Gone was the smiles and smirks. Now two scowls were given to you. "A little rat like you scuttling your way up here like you're actually something special. It makes me sick."

"Not to mention that you think you're actually good enough to be with the princes! Dressing yourself up like a man.... Like you're worth anything." Then she kicked. The bucket went tumbling over as soapy water sloshed all over the floor as you stared wide eyed. "So we're going to show you where you truly belong! You're not different than the rest of us here! So finish cleaning up you mess and don't forget to soak up your water."

Then they left. Leaving you sitting there on your knees and soaking your legs in the soapy water. You stared at the floor for a long time before gritting your teeth and willing tears not to cry.

You are nothing that day. Going hungry until it was night time and all of the maids began to come back to sleep again. Most gave you odd looks but you had no idea if it was because you looked frazzled or if they shared the same mindset as the two sisters. But everyone filed in. Everyone grabbed a blanket set from the closet. You were deliberately pushed into the back of the line and by the time you got to the closet...it was bare. You stared at the empty space as Snickers filled the large room.

"Ladies, bed! Everyone knows the rules. Y/n, you're no exception to the rules. Go to bed."

"There's no more beds." You gestured to the closet as you looked at the blank faces woman.

"Then you'll have to sleep on the floor until you get one. As I said, no exceptions. Now lights out."

You stood there as the door closed like an idiot in a sea of smirks and evil cackling.

"Guess the princess isn't use to anything else but silk sheets. Don't worry. I bet if you dream hard enough the floor will feel just like them."

You shot whoever it was a look, but didn't give them the satisfaction of a reaction. You ended up curling up on the cold hard floor in front of the door. That night you barely got any sleep at all. Too cold. Too hard. Nothing like when you were back home. Back in your own snug bed with Nezuko just a few feet away sleeping soundly and Tanjiro in the room next over. Warm under your covers safe and sound in your small home. You hoped they were alright. You just wanted to go home. To wake up and have all of this be nothing but a bad dream. 

The following next few weeks were the some of the worst days of your life. 

It was the same routine every day. The same cruelty every day.

You were continued to be stuck to the cruel sisters. They would only mock you and leave you to do either all or most of the work load whether it be scrubbing floors, delivering laundry, or washing windows. No one offered help. No one spoke to you unless it was to mock or they had to. Cold night's were spent sleeping curled up on the cold floors and days were spent in cruelty. The cruelty amped up quickly as well. If started with one made purposely knocking into you making you drop an entire basket of clean sheets into a muddy spot on the ground. Then it escalated.

More shoves. Someone purposely pushing you forward in the line for lunch causing you to spill half of the hot soup on you and giving you small burns. Throwing your only dress into the water while you were bathing. You tried telling the head maid but she was no help at all.

"Unless I see it happen there's nothing I can do. It's your word against there's. What did you expect when you were put to work here?"

You were trapped here. The only saving grace was that  you didn't see or hear anything from Yoriichi or Michikatsu for the duration of your maid-hood. You sometimes saw Lord Tsugikuni as he made morning expectations around the palace before heading off to breakfast and then business, but you never paid attention to him other than forcing yourself to now as he walked past and he never gave you a second glance. Seems he had forgotten about your existence. Hopefully with some luck, those brothers would do the same.

One day it went from zero to a hundred as you were scrubbing the balcony on the second floor with a few just above the hot springs...The same hot springs you ran from when the visiting noble lady saw you. You were nearly done standing up to wipe off the railing..When suddenly the back of your neck got goosebumps and you heard snickering from behind you. You turned sharply but it was too late-

"AH!"

A sharp pain shocked through your shoulder as a broom handle whacked across you leading you to clutch your shoulder with a hiss. Blinking open you saw at least four other girls in front of you including the sisters.

"Oops. Sorry. I was just trying to hand it to you. Guess it must've slipped out of my grip."

You stood there staring at the four for a moment before your red eyes burnt. Hands were raised and you CHUCKED the scrub brush as hard as you could at Jade's face. It made contact giving a loud THUNK sound as it collided with her face. She stumbled backwards dropping the broom and collapsed onto the ground with like a sack of potatoes. 

Then there was silence. 

The three women stared in shock as you stood there panting and fuming at them.

"JADE!!" 

Sakura dropped the broom to immediately tend to her sister. You slowly blinked standing there still before freezing upon realization of what you'd done. Jade laid there unconscious as her sister patted her face over and over only to get no reaction. The other two maids stood there as stunned as you were. Your body reacting before your mind could process what had happened. Perhaps that's why you didn't see it coming when Sakura snapped to you with a murderous glare.

AND LUNGED AT YOU.

You barely had any time to react before you felt yourself be shoved backwards by a Sakura, slipping on the just mopped balcony still wet, and your back painfully hitting the railing-Something torn making you scream as you tumbled over it backwards-

...

And then there was a splash.

[ironmanstan]

awful: it turns out every annoying person saying using planners helps you and having structure is good for you was right

[lumivall]

I don't know about you guys. but this looks a lot like the mines from 'Castle in the sky'...

Like look at that picture above and now this one

I see no difference...

[fizzie-frog]

You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.

THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.

Moving on...

People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?

By prostituting himself. To the upper class.

That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.

Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.

He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.

He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.

And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.

And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.

Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.

And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.

They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).

And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.

So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.

Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.

[bluesidez]

AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.

okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨

["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]

lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader

summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.

content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout

word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)

a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!

Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.

Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times. 

Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever. 

The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out. 

Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded. 

You were so ethereal.

He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor. 

He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side. 

So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed. 

You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180. 

“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him. 

Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning. 

The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to. 

Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day. 

“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”

Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”

“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”

“What’s the name?”

You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness. 

“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand. 

“I’m not. What’s the name?”

You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?” 

Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down. 

“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”

You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes. 

Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek. 

The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets. 

But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?

Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life. 

Just the person he wanted to hear from.

“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Miguel…”

He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using. 

“What happened?”

“Today was so beautiful!”

“But?”

“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”

Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.  

“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.

“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”

He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”

“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”

Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.

“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”

“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”

Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”

“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”

“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”

Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Was that Ma?”

“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”

“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”

Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”

You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”

“You two are gonna work my nerves.”

“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”

You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up. 

“Fine.” 

“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”

“So funny.”

“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”

Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district. 

You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented. 

He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date. 

He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme. 

He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.

“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile. 

Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”

He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.

“Hello! Welcome in!”

The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.

“Miguel, look!”

You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards. 

“That is too adorable to even eat.”

“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”

You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears 

“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake. 

“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”

Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other. 

“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open. 

“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”

 “I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”

You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.

“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching. 

“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.

“Miguel, please.”

“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”

“When we’re the only ones in here?”

“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”

You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream. 

He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue. 

One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning. 

You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”

“Something like that.”

You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante. 

He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it. 

“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”

“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”

“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”

 “You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back. 

You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased. 

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah?”

“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you like it, though?”

He paused as he watched you take a bite. 

“Maybe.”

“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”

“No….”

You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”

“…Yes.”

He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.

“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”

“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”

“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”

“Close.”

You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies. 

Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”

You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm. 

“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”

Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease. 

“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”

“Of course, let me go get that for you.”

He looks back at you cheesing at him.

“You remembered!”

“Always.” 

Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake. 

“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”

You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top. 

Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”

“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”

“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”

“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”

They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up. 

“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”

Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”

“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”

“N-no sir! Not at all.”

“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”

“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”

Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything. 

“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“Your! Your wedding!”

“Hmph.”

Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior. 

“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car. 

“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?” 

“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”

Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face. 

“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”

You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently. 

“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”

He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”

When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it. 

You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.

This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes. 

“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?” 

The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red. 

“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”

 “He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”

“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.

He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.

The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.

“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”

You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup. 

The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials. 

As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch. 

You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way. 

With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home. 

By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.

“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”

You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.

It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up. 

He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.

There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene. 

“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.

Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”

You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned. 

You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way. 

“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”

You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted. 

“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”

“You love my nose, huh?”

“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation. 

Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at. 

He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more. 

Save the date…

2025…

Miguel &…

“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”

You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”

“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”

You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”

You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body. 

“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face. 

Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”

You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze. 

When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth. 

He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished. 

Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand. 

You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces. 

He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him. 

“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”

“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”

“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.

The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.

“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”

“I miss you too but you need to have fun”

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”

“good”

“you better be waiting for me”

“i wont you”

“shit”

“want you”

“you and your dick”

“gonna sing to him”

“Him?”

“yeah him”

“he’s mine”

“gonna love on him”

“and you”

“miss you so baaaaad”

“the bed is empty without you :((((“

“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”

“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”

“idk who baby is”

“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”

“i will go to sleep mr ohara”

“gonna dream of you”

“and my big dick”

“You do that”

“Send me a pic when you wake up”

The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set. 

Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace. 

So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”

Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”

Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”

“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”

“W-what’s the difference?”

He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it. 

“I’m going to fire you.” 

Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired. 

“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood. 

Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up. 

Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it. 

You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families. 

Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable. 

The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious. 

The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something. 

“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”

“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”

“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”

You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”

Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out. 

“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”

The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”

Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.

After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:

“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”

“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”

“Should I hire more help for you?”

“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”

“Can you try this mole one more time?”

You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.

“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.

“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”

The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.

The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue. 

Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.

Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.

“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”

It truly was magical watching your vision come to light. 

Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.

“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.

The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process. 

Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting. 

“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”

The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.

“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”

“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”

“Of course.”

“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”

Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared. 

“You really love her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”

Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words. 

Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.

“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”

The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’

Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.

“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”

The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration. 

Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.

Today was starting out obnoxious. 

Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.

First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.

Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later. 

He wanted to strangle him.

“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”

“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”

Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew. 

“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.

“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”

“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”

Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.

“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.

“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”

He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door. 

“Where is she?”

“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”

“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”

“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”

“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”

“I really don’t give a-”

“Miguel.”

He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.” 

With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.

“You ok, baby?”

He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you. 

“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”

“Honestly, me too.”

The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?

He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”

You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”

“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”

“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath. 

“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”

“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”

You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.

“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”

“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.

He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.

Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped. 

You really were his world. 

Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.

As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it. 

As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax. 

You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his. 

“You’re shaking.”

He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”

With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life. 

You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together. 

To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard. 

When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later. 

One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder. 

Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you. 

You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car. 

It was really a joyous occasion. 

Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.

Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.

The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high. 

The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into. 

After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room. 

When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”

You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other. 

By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself. 

He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck. 

You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”

“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”

“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”

“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”

He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over. 

“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”

“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go. 

“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”

Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided. 

He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time. 

He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out. 

“Close your eyes!”

Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer. 

You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.

“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists. 

You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body. 

“Ok, open ‘em.”

Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters. 

“You like it?”

Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.

“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”

“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”

You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more. 

You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today. 

“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”

“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”

You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse. 

“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips. 

You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips. 

Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop. 

You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants. 

The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting. 

He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world. 

At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles. 

You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You laugh even more when you see it up close.

“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.  

You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy. 

“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”

Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”

True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there. 

Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. 

You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower. 

Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue. 

You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs. 

“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter. 

“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you. 

You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push. 

Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter. 

When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips. 

By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise. 

Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets. 

You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head. 

“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”

Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”

You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply. 

“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”

Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest. 

The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber. 

I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: How to let go of Vanessa

My notes: This is basically a TLDR version of my first 4dbarbie remix post How to realise Self. My original intention for that post was actually to make something like this, a really straightforward (and short lol) practical guide on how to let go of the ego in order to realize Self that I could refer to and apply on a day to day basis. It ended up being a long essay (it was over 3000 words aha) as I decided to go through all her posts and answered asks and found a lot of important information to include so it sort of became more of an educational post (which I'm glad to have made and it helped me understand everything better too!). So anyway, here it is. Pretty much all of the below information was taken from my How to realise Self post (besides the suggested exercises section at the bottom) - I just extracted the more practical guidance outside the explanations to make it.

My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.

Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 1

Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 2 A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 14 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)

All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 3

What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 4

Leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 5 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 6

Step away and look (observe). The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master 7

Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go. 8 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference 9

Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens. You won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 10

You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them (your thoughts) as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 9

Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 3

All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 4

Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 11

Reminder: This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 12

Suggested exercises (not required if you don't want to do it!)

1. Sitting in silence & just being with no thoughts - The whole point of sitting in silence is to realize what you are, pure beingness. Awareness only becomes consciousness when it has an object. The object changes all the time. In consciousness there is movement; awareness by itself is motionless and timeless, here and now. 4

2. Start doubting you'll wake up as Vanessa tomorrow - Not to get it, but consider it actually… What if… I wake up tomorrow and I realize an entire life has been just a dream?! Equal to the one I dreamt last night?! What if you wake up and realize it all was a nightmare that you THOUGHT went on for years and it's just been a few hours... even get scared and terrified about that thought. Better than getting scared about non-reality.

WHAT IN THE WORLD?! That never was... but I felt it so real, I swear I was her?! Yet here you are, awake, and the dream never was.

Do it like that. Doubt that it's anything but a dream as much as possible. 13

Sources:

Citations: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

In-text links: 1, 2, 3, 4

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

[ventique18]

Obsessed with thoughts of first night with virginal 🐉

Warning: casual mature (reader referred to as 'you')

My guy only knows kissing from illustrated children's books. When you pry your tongue in, he was like '-$(#-(?????? Wtf????' in his mind but then melts at the dopamine rush it sends. He was already in heaven from the cartoon ass lip-to-lip kiss so this was already crazy for him.

Lilia never talked with him about the birds and the bees because he was confident in the boy's draconic instinct or whatever.

Malleus literally doesn't know what to do as a consequence. He also doesn't read smut romance books because basic romance books don't interest him.

So he just stands there stiffly as you do all the kissing. You find it a bit odd but don't say anything, because you're caught up in the heat. But while you're feeling passionate, he on the other hand is experiencing the same emotion x10 for the first time so he's so confused and constantly wondering if he'll simply implode. What is this emotion? Why am I feeling like this? He's so incredibly flustered but he's good at keeping composure, so he just stares at you and watches you as you kiss and nip marks on his torso the entire time.

When you put your mouth around his length, he jerks and freezes on the spot. What are you doing to one of his excretory organs? That is dirty? He does always wash it though, so he trusts you and sits there like an idiot. He bites his lip when you lick him. He bites his hand when you suck him. What the fuck is this sensation? It's incredible. He's never felt like this in his entire life.

When you put him in you, he feels so damn wonderful. He comes. He comes literally the first three seconds.

You're both so surprised lmao. He does know there's some other slimy liquid that comes out there but he only knows now that that's its intended purpose.

You laugh and get off him, but cuddle him sweetly to let him know that it's okay. Not like he needs reassuring because he literally doesn't know you're expected to not come that fast.

You accept that this one is done, and you go lie next to him. But he embraces you this time and kisses you again; this time doing to you what you did to him earlier. Everything that you did to him earlier.

Extra: if you're a woman, when he gets there, he stares stupidly while holding his member. Where was he supposed to stick it in again? He tried to look earlier when you put him in you, but the angle wasn't good and he has no clue. He first tries to enter the bottom one, but it rejects him easily, so it must be the other one. It slides in perfectly.

He's surprised that he doesn't immediately blow this time. He doesn't know that he's supposed to move though so he just stands there doing nothing. You only think he's trying to compose himself, but you're impatient (you didn't come the first round) so you snap your hips to get him to move.

He does and it feels incredible.

This time he really just lets his instincts take over.

He finds himself kissing you everywhere.

He holds you so tightly that sometimes you can't breathe.

You come wildly, but he doesn't relent. He doesn't know he's supposed to wait for you to calm down so he ends up overstimulating you. He forgets his strength and cracks the bed, but he just flicks a wrist to revert it and bolsters it in the process. No furniture shall disturb him.

You come again together and he gives you a smoldering kiss.

When your breathing calms down, he growls in your ear

"Again." As he flips you over.

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.4 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous | Next | Masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, enemies to lovers kinda thing, mentions of pregnancy / birth complications, smut, unprotected pinv, oral (f receiving) , wc: 6.2k

…

“Hey, Bradshaw,” He looks up from his locker, brows raised as he cranes his neck to look over his shoulder. Ames, one of his new acquaintances from flight school, is about six steps away and the one speaking. Bradley gives him a small nod of acknowledgement as he reaches for his clothes. “Is it true you’ve got a kid on the way?”

Being as young as he is, and straight out of college, Bradley understands the surprise. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s about to be a dad, but it’s not something that he advertises at work. He doesn’t advertise much about his life at work. Truthfully, his only goal is to get through flight school without any trouble.

“Uh-huh.” Bradley steps into his boxers and unwraps the towel from around his waist, draping it over his shoulder.

“That’s crazy,” Ames chuckles from behind him, shaking his head amusedly. Bradley shakes out his wet curls. Eight months ago, he would have agreed. “So, you’re getting married, then?”

Bradley scoffs. Even if you can manage to ignore that thick accent, Ames finds a way to remind everyone that he’s from the middle of Buttfuck-Nowhere, Kentucky. Stepping into his issued khakis, Bradley turns his head once more to find that most eyes are on him now.

“No?” He answers, tone incredulous. He’s not sure why everyone’s first reaction when they find out that the two of you are having a kid is to ask when the wedding is. Seems a little outdated. It’s not something that you’ve discussed. Or even something that he has really considered.

“Man,” Ames laughs from behind him as Bradley pulls his white t-shirt over his head. “I can’t imagine being stuck with the same pussy for the rest of my life.”

Halfway through tucking his shirt into his pants, Bradley stops, and turns towards his new colleague. He inhales slowly, blinking twice at the red headed asshole who just made the mistake of making that comment.

This is his career on the line, sure — everything that he’s spent his entire life working towards. But it’s not just that. This is medical, it’s security, it’s going to make sure his kid is okay for the rest of his life. It’s not worth throwing that little weasel on the ground and making him shut his mouth.

He exhales, then winds his face into a tight-lipped smile. “Maybe once you lose your virginity you’ll feel differently, buddy.”

The heavy silence in the locker room is broken by a round of laughs, and the mocking immediately begins. Ames groans, trying to quieten the jokes at his expense. Bradley pulls his khaki shirt on, buttons it swiftly and grabs his bag to leave.

His boots thud along the halls, not stopping for anybody as he heads for his truck. It wasn’t that long ago that he was in the locker room at college, listening to this same shit without batting an eyelid. Hell, when you first came to him, he was the one saying it.

He slips into the driver’s side and drives home. There’s no making up for how much of an asshole he was, not that long ago. He probably still is, or still could be — but his kid won’t be.

“Seresin!” Your eyes widen at the sound of him swinging the front door open and letting it slam closed behind him. Dropping the screws, your body tenses.

“Shit, shit, shit…” You whisper, abandoning the screws on the floor. With how round you’re feeling, bending over to get them at this point is quite simply not an option.

If he’s looking down at his phone, there’s a chance that he won’t even notice you. You slow yourself at first, quieting your footsteps along the floor as much as you can.

“Hey! — I thought I told you to stay in bed.”

You groan in frustration, one hand on your bump, busted. Footsteps behind you tell you that Bradley is not only home from work early, but he is also ready to enforce the bed rest rule again for another day. Pretending that you hadn’t heard him is becoming a more and more frequent issue, as you continue along the hallway and into the nursery.

“I’m talking to you, Seresin,” Bradley drops his bag by the door and starts after you. His eyes widen as you speed up, unsteady on your feet and leaning back under the weight of your ever-growing belly. “Are you seriously going to make me chase you?”

Admittedly, the idea makes you laugh as you swing the door to the nursery shut behind you, just to slow him down. He swings it back open and steps in after you, brows knitted together in concern. “Come on, we had a deal.”

The deal being that you would rest as much as you can and call him when you need something, and he’d take care of everything that needed to be done. You’d just been so bored. It’s been days of this. Sure, the first day, you welcomed it. You’d had blood tests the day before and were tired. By now, you’re about to start pulling your own hair out without some kind of stimuli.

“Fuck your deal,” Out of breath from your six steps of speed walking, you pant at him, lips quirked through your fading irritation as you brace one hand on the wall to lower yourself to the ground. Bradley looks between you and the torn open flat pack box at your side. “I’m building this crib.”

“I said I’d build it!” Bradley tries to reason, frowning and darting closer at the unsteady way you’re crouching towards the ground.

It’s been a rough couple of days. Reading sounds boring, you can’t stand to watch another second of TV and you hate having to wait until Bradley’s home in case something happens. It’s hard to pretend that you aren’t a little pissed off about it.

“He’s my baby,” You strain, wobbling as you get closer to the floor. You’ve been thinking about him a lot recently. About if he’ll look like you, or more like Bradley, or maybe even your dad. You always heard that Jake looks a lot like your grandfather. “And I want to build his crib. You can help.”

Bradley stands there, lips parted like he’s trying to come up with a way to get you back in bed. He knows that it’s no use, if he was you, he’d be damn near climbing the walls by now. If this kid is anything like you, he’s got his work cut out for him — there are going to be two of you to defy his rules soon enough. After a few moments, he resigns with a sigh.

“Alright,” Bradley breathes out, stepping behind you to help you to the ground before you collide into it. Knowing that he’s got far more experience with this kind of thing than you do, he resigns to being your assistant without argument. “Alright. I’ll help.”

He settles you onto the ground, then grabs the flat pack box, settling it onto the ground in front of you. Tired from work, sure, but he catches sight of the smile on your face and finds himself smiling too.

“I dropped all of the screws in the hallway when I was running from you.”

He looks down at you. You look up at him, face squeezing into an almost apologetic smile. Curls short, mustache trimmed to keep up with regulations, you’re still getting used to seeing his features as much as you have been recently. His lips twitch, almost smiling. He tries not to, trying to be stern. You can see it in those big brown eyes that he thinks this is funny.

“I’ll get ‘em.” Bradley decides with a slow nod.

“Thanks, you’re such a great assistant.” You tease, shooting him a quick wink. Still leaning over you, Bradley’s eyes flicker over every inch of your face before he finally gives in and smiles softly. You’re steadfast, more than happy to play his game of chicken as he leans in so close that you can practically still smell the jet fuel on his clothes.

There’s a long pause of silence again, where he’s just watching you. Wearing maternity shorts and a t-shirt twice your size, sitting on the floor of your son’s nursery.

“Careful. You keep looking at me like that and I’ll build you whatever you want for the rest of our lives.” He tells you with a soft smile on his face, his voice raspy after a day of yelling over the sound of engines.

You blink a few times. Bradley watches you trying to come up with some kind of witty response, and he gives you a couple of seconds to try, but you’re equally relieved when he leans forwards and kisses your mouth. Sliding five fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, pressing closer to you.

He pulls back first, kissing the corner of your mouth and standing upright.

“God, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, Seresin,” Bradley breathes out, shaking his head as he swallows and turns to leave. “Can’t even kiss you without my dick getting hard anymore.”

He’s just gone for a few seconds. He gets around a lot faster than you do these days. But, he stops in the doorway as he’s walking back into the room. “What?”

You set the base of the crib down, looking up at him. Bradley’s lips quirk. He glances down and cups a hand over his half-hard dick, running his palm roughly over it through his khakis.

“Fuck first and we’ll build the crib later?” He offers you in one swift breath, lips quirking up into a grin as you smile back at him. He steps forwards and helps you up from the ground, still careful not to rush you even though his hands are on your ass and his mouth’s on yours from the second that you’re on your feet.

“Fuck yeah.” You agree against his lips.

Working open the buttons on his khakis, kissing him so deeply that it makes you dizzy as he walks you backwards, arms wrapped around you to keep you safe. He’s in just his white t-shirt and slacks by the time you’re at the foot of your bed.

Then, he stops kissing you. Just for a second, taking a moment to really look at your face. Once he’s done, he lifts his hand, eclipsing the nape of your neck, pulling you into him so that he can kiss you again. Up close, your head tips almost all the way back as his lips touch slowly against yours. Brief, disarmingly tender.

You press forwards and kiss him again, harder than he had kissed you. You let him nudge back your jaw so that he can kiss your neck. His strong hands steady you against him, his lips working a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin.

Bradley remembers when you first started hooking up again — how rushed all of those times had been, how desperate he had been to get his hands on every inch of you. His mouth too. He’d been a little rough, maybe, but you hadn’t been complaining.

He knows that you would probably enjoy that again now, but he knows your body. He knows that your hips hurt, even when you won’t admit it to him. He knows your breasts are sensitive, even though you like having his hands on them.

One thing that his mother taught him was to never act like he knows best. He doesn’t. You’d have no idea exactly how considerate he’s being when he touches you, careful to not press too hard on anywhere that’s too sensitive.

Pressing his fingertips lightly into your hips, he turns you around and walks backwards to sit on the edge of your shared bed, peeling his shirt up and over his head. There’s a brief moment where he’s torn between leaning back and taking a look at you, or grabbing hold of you and bringing you close again.

He falls for the latter, grabbing your thighs and pulling you between his legs. Your eyes are on him as he pulls your shorts down your legs, peppering kisses over your thighs and hips.

You swallow softly as he drags your panties down your legs to follow, his hand cupping your dripping sex, two fingers swiping gently through your growing excitement.

Closing your eyes, you exhale softly, anticipation vibrating through your middle, waiting for him to touch you. The feeling of his cool breath on your thighs makes you jolt, instinctively reaching out and grabbing hold of his bare shoulders.

Featherlight, his fingers slide under your t-shirt and guide it upwards. He hums in approval as you take the hint and grab the fabric, tearing it off and letting it fall to the ground with the rest of your clothes.

Tender, he reaches out and curls his fingers around your calf, lifting your leg and planting it beside his thigh on the bed. Now that you’re where he wants you, he grabs your hips to steady you and gets right to work.

As much as you try not to think about how many girls Bradley has slept with, each time he graces you with his tongue between your legs — you’re reminded that you should probably be thanking whichever one of them taught him how to do this.

His tongue trails slowly along your slit, thumbs brushing slow circles on your hips as he trails lightly upward to your clit and stars with a circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your fingers smooth along the ridges in his shoulder, up along the nape of his neck. You always forget that he doesn’t have long, messy curls anymore. The back is buzzed down to a number two. Bradley groans in approval against your clit as you grab the longer hair at the crown of his head and tug softly.

Working up slowly, he trails his fingers along your middle and cups your breast in his hand, delicate as he kneads the sensitive flesh. You breathe in deeply, squeezing against your hold in his hair as he makes your stomach start to twist into that familiar knot.

Pulling back, he’s careful not to be too abrupt. Kissing your pelvis, your thighs, leaving you with a few teasing nips and licks. You moan out, letting him go finally. He shifts backwards, touching your palms with the tips of his fingers as he does. “C’mere, baby.”

You open your eyes again to look at him. His eyes are hooded, watching you lustfully, begging you into his lap. He watches you hesitate, glancing down at your bump.

In response, he shifts further up the bed and plants his head on the pillows, unbuckling his belt slowly, chest heaving. You watch the muscles in his stomach contort as he kicks the khakis down his legs, dipping two thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and shoving them down too.

“Come here,” He looks so desperate, fist wrapped around his swollen cock. He sighs in relief as he lifts his hips just slightly, rocking into the friction his palm provides. His lips quirk softly as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not above begging, babe.”

Hesitantly, you kneel on the bed before him. His eyes light up, giving you a small nod of encouragement. Walking on your knees towards him, Bradley can’t help but groan. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

Always impatient when it comes to getting his hands on you, Bradley sits up swiftly and grabs your hand in his, making you giggle softly. Moving just a little closer, you carefully straddle his thighs, gasping as he drags you closer.

Hands cupping both of your breasts at once, he practically nestles his head between them, kissing each of them first in turn. Then, looking up at you through those thick eyelashes, you briefly catch the wolfish grin on his face before he turns his full attention back to having his mouth on your tits. Kissing, sucking, grazing the underside with a gentle nip every now and again.

Careful not to hurt your over sensitive skin, he’s suddenly soft as he takes your nipple into his mouth, fingers skimming tenderly along your bare waist. He circles each bud with his tongue, taking his time, then peppering them with affectionate kisses. Large hands trail around your waist to meet at the small of your back, then slide swiftly downwards.

Grabbing two handfuls of your ass, he drags you closer again with an eager grunt, squeezing your soft flesh in his hands. Two can play at that game. You grab hold of his broad shoulders, shoving him back down against the pillows.

He looks up at you, grinning, as you lift slowly and replace his hand with yours around the base of his cock. Trailing your soft palm along his length once, twice, and then lowering your hips just enough to guide the tip between your folds.

He inhales sharply, hands sprawling out open along your sheets, eyes dark as he watches you tease him. You watch his eyes follow up to the swell of your pregnant stomach as you rock your hips just slightly, brushing his tip against your clit.

“Oh shit, wait.”

Immediately, his brows knit together as you lurch forwards and lean across him, reaching for the night stand. His hands grab at your waist to steady you, beyond confused as you sit back up with a little box in your hands.

“What the fuck is that?” He frowns at you.

You fight the urge to hit him in the head with the box, because this is exactly how you ended up in this position. Your fingers work open the box as Bradley props himself up on his elbows to investigate. “These are condoms.”

“We haven’t used condoms since — y’know.” Bradley gestures towards your stomach, then looks back up at you again, frowning.

“Exactly. We need to start getting into the routine of using them again.” You tell him calmly. He sits up and grabs at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his warm mouth sucking at the sweet spot on your throat.

“We’ve got three more weeks to practice,” He murmurs, breath tickling your ear between open-mouthed kisses. You shiver, damn near dropping the box. “Come on, baby. You don’t want me to cum in you one last time?”

There’s a pause between the two of you, his fingers squeezing at the flesh of your ass as he sucks a deep kiss into the dip where your shoulder meets your neck.

The box clatters noisily against the wall as you toss it out of your way, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him hard. You pull back, breathless, and narrow your eyes at him, “One last time.”

He grins, nodding his head as you lift your hips to hover over his thick cock. “Fuck, I love you.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. It would be kind of hypocritical, when you’re smiling too. Bracing yourself against his pecs as you lower yourself down onto him, he screws his eyes shut and groans happily. Settling down against his pelvis, you let your head fall back and sigh in relief.

He’s trying to train himself out of grabbing your hips and guiding you where to go, so he reaches down and loops his fingers between yours. As good as he’s being, he can’t help himself from shifting down the bed, spreading his thighs and planting his heels to change the angle that you’re sitting on him.

The next time you lift your hips and come back down, his dick grazes your g-spot perfectly and makes you grip his hands a fraction tighter. Panting out soft moans, you settle into a soft pace, lifting up and sinking down on him again.

The gold cross chain around his neck slides on his chest, calling your eyes to the smooth ridges of his tanned pecs. Bradley watches the way your eyes drink him in, spurred on as he rocks his hips to meet your pace.

The way he watches you is so intimate, like he’s memorizing every inch of your skin. The way you’re coming down on him feels like it’s knocking the breath from your lungs each time, your moans filling the air. His thumbs stroke softly along the backs of your hands. Everything about the way he has learned to fuck you is so perfect, and the adoration in his eyes makes it hard to even look at him sometimes.

You feel sexy. With his eyes on you like this, the way his body responds to you, you feel sexy as you roll your hips into him and he rocks back to match your rhythm. Filling you to the brim, making your orgasm build swiftly in your stomach.

He leaves one of your hands, reaching out instead and catching the nape of your neck, pulling you down against his chest. Your stomach presses firmly into his. He lifts his chin and kisses you.

“You feel so fucking good.” He groans against your mouth, pleased as you moan back in response. Your hands flatten against his toned pecs as you push yourself to sit upright, so that you can ride him harder. His head falls back against the pillows, fingers pressing into your thighs. “Fuck.”

Bradley wets his lips with his tongue, eyes unashamedly darting from your tits to your face as they bounce in front of him. His brows draw tightly together and you feel him shift, pressing his heels harder into the mattress, fingers marking into the soft skin of your thighs.

A muscle ticks in his jaw before he inhales sharply, trying not to focus on how close he feels like he is. It’s not like you aren’t close too. Just a little more. He bites hard on his bottom lip as your palms trail down to rest against his toned stomach and lift almost all the way up.

His gaze falls down, watching his length disappear inside of you once again, bucking his hips up hard to meet you as you come down on him. The buzz rips through you, your arms going weak as the feeling rushes through your body. Bradley wraps both arms around your middle as you collapse against his chest, continuing to rock his hips upwards as he chases his own high. The feeling seizes you, buzzing through your middle and all the way down into your core, thighs clenching around his hips, walls squeezing around him.

Bradley holds the back of your neck, keeping you close against him as he spills inside of you with a desperate grunt. His body shudders, exhaling deeply before he turns his head towards your jaw and kissing your skin once softly.

“Fuck me,” Bradley pants, brushing a hand softly over your messy hair, kissing your cheek. Briefly, Ames crosses his mind. He really wouldn’t mind this for the rest of his life. “How was that? — You okay?”

“Good,” You smile breathlessly, resting your head against his chest, hiding your face in his neck. “So good.”

You lift your hips and let him slip out of you but stay safely tucked against his chest for a while longer, just letting the two of you both catch your breaths. His fingers trail absently along the bare length of your spine.

“Hey, Bradley?” You hum, kissing softly at his throat.

“Hm?”

“We’ve still got a crib to build.” You remind him delicately, smiling as you feel his groan vibrate through his chest.

Soon enough, you’re up and both sitting on the nursery floor in your pajamas, staring silently at the instructions. Three and a half hours later, and a band-aid on Bradley’s beat up thumb, you’ve got a crib.

Bradley had heard of nesting, and he had been trying to prepare for it — but he didn’t think it would be as fun as this. Getting to sit on the ground with his best friend and playfully bicker over Part A and Screw C for almost four hours. Then, sliding into bed beside you and feeling you sleep more soundly than you have in days.

The results from the blood work were a good thing, it’s not Fetal Growth Syndrome, but you’re not out of the woods yet. He’s still behind where he’s supposed to be and now you’ve got no answers as to why. He knows that it’s been keeping you up.

So, if happily bending to your each and every whim is what gets you to finally rest, Bradley’s okay with doing that for the next few weeks until he gets to meet his kid.

The next morning, you wake up with him all over you again. He fucks you slowly, both of you laying on your sides, barely awake but smiling softly. Then, he begrudgingly gets up and starts to get ready for work. He hates leaving you naked in his bed in the mornings. If it was up to him, he’d lay there with you until the afternoon.

“I love you,” Bradley tells you, grinning as he darts forwards to press one last kiss to your cheek. As much as he enjoys watching the sky turn from burning orange to soaring blue over the runway, he’s sure that nothing will ever beat the sight of you in the first bed you ever shared, with one hand on your stomach, smiling up at him like this. He beams, leaning down and pressing his lips to your belly, just below your navel. “Both. I love you both.”

You lift your foot and kick softly at his thigh, “You’re gonna be late for work.”

As you push him away, he comes right back again, kissing your mouth like he’s taking in a breath of air. “I know, I know. But, I’ve got this girl at home who won’t listen to a thing I tell her, and how am I supposed to concentrate on, y’know, saving the world if I’m so worried about the troublemaker I’ve got at home?”

“You’re an idiot.” You scoff, pushing at his shoulder this time, grinning against his mouth as he comes right back in for another kiss. After maybe the fifth ‘last kiss’ in a row, Bradley pulls back enough to brush the tip of your nose with his. He exhales softly, his grin fading to a smaller smile.

“Promise me you’ll be good ‘til I’m back, okay?”

You lift your chin and kiss his cheek, wrapping your pinkie finger around his.

“We promise. No mischief ‘til Daddy’s home.” You tell him. He turns his head towards you and leaves you with one last kiss, for real this time, kissing your bump as he starts to stand up from the bed. He calls goodbye to you three more times total before he’s finally out of the door.

Laying in Bradley Bradshaw’s bed almost a year later, you smile to yourself. That dumb girl in his bed the night after Halloween would never have imagined herself here, giggling like an idiot with the guy that was meant to be a one night stand.

He’s gone for a while, probably about halfway to work, by the time that you decide to pull yourself up from bed and walk to the shower. It still counts as bed rest if your plan is to get clean, stretch out Bradley’s clothes and make the treacherous hike to the living room to sit on the couch.

Water streams over your hair, your face, warming your skin. Savouring the feeling, you stand there for a moment with your face towards the ceiling. Your backache is pretty much a permanent feeling at this point, but as you roll your shoulders back and stretch upright, there’s a sudden sharp pain in the small of your back, right the way through your middle.

Fuck. Bradley has been gone for less than an hour, and you’ve probably pulled a muscle. He’s going to be so much more annoying when he hears about this.

The water seems to soothe it. It doesn’t hurt too much when you’re reaching your arms up to clean your hair, or wash your body. But, the second that the water’s off and you’re leaning over to grab your towel, it happens again. The same, sharp pain, right the way through your middle.

Dressing yourself is always a chore at this point in your pregnancy, but this time you’re just mad about it. No trouble. Since when does no trouble equate to injuring yourself mere moments after he’s out of the house? — You’re growing sick of this helplessness. Even bending down to tie your own shoelaces is impossible at the moment, but Bradley hid all of your shoes that weren’t slip-ons like that would make you feel better about it.

Sighing as you pull the shorts up around your hips, you flinch at the sound of rushed knocking at the door. Salespeople. Another groan as you start to walk, your swollen ankles taking the brunt of your anger as you start to stomp towards the door. Just to make your worsening day that little bit more insufferable, halfway through the living room, you kick your toe into the back of the couch.

Grabbing onto the back of it for leverage and jolting forwards, you’re met with another sharp pain. You’re supposed to be taking things easy, shit. At least it’s an excuse for Bradley to use his years of knowledge from playing sports and massage your back for you later.

By the time you make it to the door, the knocker is already turning and walking away. From behind, you don’t recognise him. The second that you turn around, instinct tells you to slam the door in his face. It’s what Bradley would do if he saw his Uncle Pete standing on your doorstep at 7am on a Thursday.

One hand on your stomach, you’re visibly disgruntled, but Maverick knows it’s too late to just walk away without saying anything. His eyes dart from your swollen stomach and back up to your face. It’s clear that your pregnancy makes him uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I was… I was looking for Bradley, I’m… I’m a family friend.” The aging pilot on your doorstep explains awkwardly. He brings one hand up and scratches at the back of his neck. His blue eyes drop down to your stomach again.

“I know who you are.” You reply softly.

Pete swallows, then nods. It takes him a second before he remembers to speak again, giving a disoriented shake of his head as he steps towards you and extends his hand. “Right. Um, I wrote this, and I’d really appreciate it if you could give it to him. I just want a chance to explain.”

Looking down at the folded letter in his hand, your face softens. You glance quickly between him and the bundle of paper, your mouth twisting into a frown as you give a slow shake of your head.

“I can’t make him read it.” You explain quietly, lifting your arm and reaching out for the paper. Maverick sets it in your hand, his head bowed, eyes on the concrete outside. Maybe that’s just easier than looking you in the eye. “I’ll give it to him, though.”

That alone is more kindness than Bradley has showed him in the last two years. Maverick lifts his head quickly, blue eyes glassy as he searches over your face. You can see him fighting not to overreact, or frighten you.

“Thank you,” The pilot breathes out finally, like you’ve personally lifted the weight from his chest. “I apprecia—“

A sharp gasp and your hands fly to the small of your back. You crane your body, moving with the pain and stretching up straight. “Ow, fuck.”

Maverick freezes. He watches you for a few seconds, the searing pain that you seem to be going through. Suddenly, all he can think of was the time that Carole almost broke his hand when she went into labour with Bradley.

“Are you… okay?” Maverick broaches the topic cautiously as you seem to come down from the pain with a few deep breaths.

“Yeah. I think I pulled a muscle or something, it’s killing me.”

“Just… a muscle?” Maverick asks quietly. Brows furrowing, you stare at him. His eyes flicker down to your stomach once more. Finally, it dawns on you.

“Oh. No,” You shake your head quickly, “He’s not due for another three weeks.”

The aging pilot just stares at you. You could go into the ins and outs of it. That he’s a little small for this stage of the pregnancy. That they told you specifically that you were likely to be overdue as a result. Overdue. Like past his due date. Not three fucking weeks early. He’s not big enough yet

The front door’s still wide open. The two of you just stand there, silent, staring at each other. Equally unsure of what comes next. You gulp, smoothing a hand softly over the swell of your stomach. Maverick watches the tears start to well in your eyes.

“Should… Do I call Bradley?”

Pete doesn’t remember Carole looking this young, or afraid, but he knows she was. He was. Goose was the only one who seemed to know what he was doing, even though he hadn’t either.

Christ, he shouldn’t be here. Bradley should be here. Or Goose. Or someone who could help you. Anyone but him, he just knows that he’ll screw it up further — and Bradley’s going to hate him even more than he already does.

“Yeah. Call Bradley.” Pete croaks out, still standing awkwardly on your doorstep. He’s meant to be leaving today. He’s supposed to be back in Miramar by noon their time.

“What if it’s nothing? — He’s flying today.”

“Try him. He won’t be in the air yet.” Pete answers. If he’s good for nothing else, at least he’s got knowledge about what Bradley’s day at work should look like. “And your Mom. You should call your parents.”

“I — I don’t speak with my parents,” You’re already stumbling back, turning away from him, your voice trembling. Pete’s heart thuds in his chest. “It’s just Bradley.”

And Jake. You wish Jake was here. He would know what to do.

Maverick watches from the doorway as you disappear down the hall. He doesn’t dare take a step forwards. He’ll move if you start screaming for help or something. You reappear quickly and wave him inside, phone pressed to your ear.

The letter isn’t in your hand anymore but that doesn’t seem important now. You've met with Bradley’s voicemail three times in a row. Pete stands just inside the doorway, feeling like his knees are about to give out.

Closing your eyes, you will yourself not to cry in front of this stranger. You silently plead with this little boy to just hang on a little longer. Just until he’s bigger. Until he’s a little more ready. Until you’re a little more ready.

“Is there anyone else I can call for you? — A friend, or… a boss? — Anyone?” Maverick tries. You lift your head to look at him and he freezes as your eyes gloss over.

“No,” You whimper. Not down here, there’s not a single soul that you could turn to. Not with Jake being away. “Just Bradley.”

“Okay, um…”

You’re both standing on opposite sides of the room now, separately and silently freaking out. Finally, it occurs to you to check the time.

“Wait, I just — I went fifteen minutes without any kind of pain. If they were contractions, they’d be regular. Right?”

“I’m not sure.” Pete’s already shaking his head. He doesn’t know a lot about babies. Or pregnancy. Or families in general. But, if there’s any time to be cautious, it seems like that time would be now. “Maybe we should take you to a doctor. Just in case.”

Wiping at your eyes, you sniffle softly. “No, it’s — I’m — we’re fine. I’ll call my doctor, and I’ll wait for Bradley to come home.”

“Are you sure? — I mean…”

“I’m sure. Thanks. For being here. I’ll make sure he gets the letter.” Everything in your tone is telling him that he has overstayed his welcome and that you would like him to leave. That’s not really the case. You don’t mind him. But, he has just royally freaked you out, and you would like the privacy to continue to freak out in peace.

“Sure. Alright,” Maverick bumps into the wall behind him as he steps towards the door. Maybe he should stop by the base and try to find Bradley, let him know that he needs to come home early. “My number’s on that letter. If you need anything, I’m nearby. Just call me.”

One hand on your stomach and the other gripping the kitchen island so tight that your hand starts to lose feeling, you give him a tight-lipped smile. Maverick mumbles a quick goodbye and closes the door behind him.

Admittedly, he lingers just outside of the door for a while longer than he needs to. He just can’t help but wonder if this is the last he’ll hear from Bradley, or you — or this baby. He wonders if he’ll ever know this child at all.

The weight of it sits on his shoulders. Just a little extra, sitting on top of what’s already been there for the past twenty years. He bows his head as he walks back to his car.

Unlocking the driver’s side and pulling the door open, he doesn’t hear the front door fling open behind him.

“Mav!”

He stops and turns, brows drawing together. His jaw falls slack. You’re gripping onto the doorframe with one hand and your stomach with the other. Your legs are soaked.

“Fuck.” Maverick breathes out.

…

@chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @heli991113 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm33 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutford

[drakulana]

Hi there! I have a angst/comfort writing about Law x y/n so far and I want to muster up the courage to ask you about this:

Its a bit complicated and rather long, Reader's strugling with trust issues due to her past betrayal and exploitation. Law once despite everything saved her from danger and cured her, even though she really loves him, but when she was mentally unstable, she broke down and confided that he was just taking advantage of her, taking advantage of her feelings, denying how genuine his feelings for her were.

I want to see you write his reaction and everything that happens after that! Hope you have a great day💖

Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took my so long to answer, life has been so crazy! I hope you enjoy it!! @hana-san

late night envy - law x reader

ᯓ★wc: 2.1k

ᯓ★content: angst/comfort, fighting, alcohol consumption

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It was a clear night. You could see every star in the sky. Your captain had given the crew the privilege of surfacing for the night due to a breakthrough on a research project everyone had been working on together. Earlier, all of the crew had been partying and drinking amongst one another. It wasn’t every night that they got to see the night sky, and breathe in the salty air. It was a nice change of scenery apart from the steel walls that kept them so close. 

The party that ensued was one that Penguin and Shachi had referred to as a “rager” consisting of loud music and drinking games that were only ever fun if you were intoxicated. Luckily, everyone was. It had been a while since the crew had got to drink together like this. Everyone was on the top deck, all except for one person. The captain, of course. It wasn’t uncommon for the captain not to indulge in their festivities, but he always showed his face for at least the first half hour. Tonight, to the dismay of everyone on the crew, he was not. Well, everyone except for you. The party was doing its job at distracting you from the burden of the situationship you held with the absent captain, more so the fight you had with him almost half a week ago. 

The relationship between you and Law was never supposed to happen. It blossomed out of the heat of the moment. Like two magnets, you couldn’t help but to gravitate towards one another. However recent events had made you fear that your polarity towards one another had been reversed. These days, Law was scarce. He had a lot on his plate, you knew that, but sometimes you couldn’t help but to feel as if it were personal. He was planning a solo mission soon, and cut you out of the whole research aspect all together. Anytime you would come into his office, he’d dismiss you soon after. Anytime you would try to aid him with any type of research, he would tell you that he could handle it on his own, giving you another task to uphold somewhere on the other side of the ship. How could you not take something like that personal? A few nights ago, you had confronted Law ending in a screaming match between the two of you. You asked him why he was avoiding you, and he denied it. You asked if he was no longer interested in you, and he said that you were reading too much into the situation. I am a captain, and a warlord. I have things on my plate you couldn’t possibly begin to understand. You can’t come in here and disrupt my work, trying to find petty answers to your own insecurities. The words that were said that night had stung, and Law knew he had overstepped. Before an apology could even leave his mouth, you had turned on your heel walking out of the office, slamming the door behind you. Law didn’t follow you, he never did. 

It was now half past two, and your crewmates had finally decided to start turning in for the night. It wasn’t long before the stragglers had left the deck to return back to their bunks. A few crewmates asked you if you were coming inside too, and you waved them off with a dismissive I’ll be there, soon. You didn’t want to turn in just yet, you wanted to sit with the ocean and it’s stars for a little longer. If you were lucky, you’d be able to see the sunrise. It was very rare to be able to see the morning hues of soft pinks, and oranges. A cool breeze wafted over your face, and you took a deep inhale in. It was quiet out here. You couldn’t hear the incessant buzzing of the lights, or the never ending humming of the engines below you. You didn’t feel confined between cold metal walls, and you felt like you could finally breathe. You had a lot on your mind tonight, and to feel just a little less claustrophobic helped ease your tormented mind. You were hoping to find some solace in the waves sloshing against the metal of the ship, and a bottle of sake you had hidden away earlier in the night.

It had been almost four days since you had last talked to Law. Any time you would see him in the halls, or during mealtimes, you would turn the other way. You weren’t going to chase after him, either. The way he made you feel that night was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The argument made you feel unseen, unheard. All those times that you and Law had shared behind closed doors. All the deep personal talks you had with him, all the sweetness you had saved just for him, felt meaningless. 

 A waft of cold air hit your face, bringing you back to reality. The quiet black ocean aided you in your spiral. You felt as if he didn’t want you anymore. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done to deserve this cold shoulder from him. You took another swig from the bottle of sake that had set next to you on the cold steel deck. You were about half way through the bottle now. You didn’t know what time it was, or how long you had been out here. There were no signs of morning for the next few hours. The sky and the ocean were now just one vast darkness speckled with stars. Everyone inside was probably already asleep in their bunks by now. All but one person, your captain. He never slept the way he was supposed to. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a small part of you tugged to go see him, but you knew with Law you could never come to him first. He would have to come to you, and usually he did within a day or so, but it had been almost four days now. You took a deep breath, you could feel the alcohol setting into your system. It weighed you down to your chair, slowly creeping into your legs. 

You concentrated on the sloshing of the water against the sides of the ship, trying to pry your thoughts away from the earlier events from the week. It was to no avail, though. You couldn’t help the whirlwind of memories, and the emotions attached to them from setting fire to your brain.  Like a movie behind your intoxicated eyes, it played. All the people you had met before you had been involved with the Heart Pirates, all the places you had gone. Everyone who had ever scorned you was now at the forefront of your mind. nasty words that you had been called, the mistreatment from all of your previous peers echoed against the walls of your skull. It was the creaking of a metal door that had transported you back into the present. You didn’t look behind you to know who it was, you could pick out those footsteps from anywhere. It was Law. You didn’t move, you just stared ahead holding your now almost empty sake bottle against you. You didn’t want to have the conversation you knew was pending in this state, so you simply did not engage. 

Law’s deep voice cut through the sloshing, “It’s late,” he simply stated. You rolled your eyes at the sound of his tone. The way Law spoke always held an assured certainty that only he could make sound natural, but now his words tasted bitter in your mouth and the certainty was replaced with a cockiness that you found unbecoming of Law. You usually didn’t think like this, you were intoxicated. Another reason you wished he would just turn around and go back to his chambers, maybe even go to sleep for once. Law approached behind you, “Still ignoring me?” You scoffed at his audacity. You ignoring him? He practically begged for it the way he talked to you four nights ago. Still, you didn’t let up. You didn’t even give him a word. He walked around into your view. He was wearing a long jacket, his usual jeans, and a white tee. Your eyes studied him. He didn’t look like he had slept, but that wasn’t surprising, he never slept. His hat was unusually missing, leaving his messy black hair ruffling in the slight breeze. It was dark out here, but the moon had lit up the sky enough for you to see him. You made eye contact with him, and you could see something behind his eyes that wasn’t typically there, remorse. Usually that remorse would eat away at your soul, and make you cave, but not tonight. You tore your eyes away from the man standing in front of you, as he let out a sigh. He took a seat next to you, eyeing the bottle in your lap. “You’ve drank… a lot,” He reached over, taking the bottle from your grasp before setting it down on the other side of him. Again, the audacity. If you hadn’t been so drunk, you would’ve snatched it back, but there was no physical fight left in you at this point. 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, before you heard Law take a huge breath, “Listen, you can’t just ignore-” he didn’t even finish the rest of his sentence before you had snapped your head towards him, cutting him off. “No, Law, you listen to me,” a surge of pain rushed to behind your eyes, only fueling your anger. A painful knot swelled up in your throat, “I understand that you are a warlord with a lot on your plate. I understand that the weight you pull is heavy, but that does not give you the right to be such a dick. If it’s space you need, then you got it, but don’t come out here badgering me about ignoring you when I can’t possibly begin to understand the things you have going on-” Law’s protest started to cut you off, but you didn’t give in, “No, don’t talk. I’m not finished. You had no place sitting there calling me insecure about your neglect whenever we hav-had some sort of relationship. I feel taken advantage of. Then you want to come out here and say that I’ve been ignoring you when I’m actually just giving you the space you so badly wanted? No,” at this point, you could feel the bile rising up in your throat, burning its way up your esophagus. It felt as if all the words that you had wanted to say were crawling up your throat pushing themselves out. You pushed yourself out of your seat, making a beeline to bend yourself over the side of the rails. Before you knew it, you were face to face with the black water emptying all of your stomach’s contents. Your legs shook underneath you, and you could feel Law behind you with his hands on your hips steadying your balance. You wanted to push him back away from you, but you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up anymore. It was frustrating feeling this weak in front of him after you had chewed him out, drunkenly. Once you were done, Law pulled you back up turning you to face him. “Let’s go inside, okay?” He asked you softly. It didn’t matter the protests you gave him, he was dragging you behind him staggering your way back into the ship. 

Once you were inside, Law led you back into his quarters. You were still mad at Law, and he knew that. He sat you down onto the bed digging out some clothes from his dresser laying them beside you, “Get changed, I’ll be right back,” He told you before shutting the door behind him. He returned when you were dressed with a bottle of water and two small white pills in his hand. “Take these, we’ll talk more in the morning,” He told you. You huffed and layed down in his bed, covering yourself with the blankets. Law looked at your figure before taking his jacket and his shoes off, “Can I lay with you?” He asked you, earning a small nod from you. Although you were mad, you couldn’t deny the comfort Law’s presence brought you. He crawled under the blankets, wrapping an arm around your drunken drowsy body, “You know I’m sorry, right?” He whispered to you, “I didn’t mean any of those things I said,” His hand trailed up and down your spine, putting pressure on certain places where he could tell knots were forming. Low hums fell from your mouth as he rubbed your back. You could feel your trepidation melting away as his fingers worked their way up to your shoulders. You finally let your eyes close, and let the heaviness of sleep take you. You would talk to Law in the morning, but for right now, the both of you were okay.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the crowleying of your mascot's hair.

Good morning maggots, as I write this it is 11:53 pm on the uh, asmi10kpocalypse/10khaos (both stunning names, whichever of you came up with them please walk on stage and take a goddamn bow) and I have awoken from deep slumber.

The Good News: My hair is dyed! The Bad News: It was torture that I nearly fainted from!

Okay well uh, we know what I'm best at, and it's summaries of chaos. So without further ado (much ado about nothing ahahah everything is a 10k reference now), here we go:

It starts, as it will end, in my room in front of the laptop screen.

Now, as you know, I said I would dye my hair after I scarfed down my lunch. I do that and I also take a nap because fuck yeah, sleep.

I check tumblr one last time, grab my phone without charging it, tell my mum I'm dyeing my hair, and begin the walk to the salon.

On my phone is Arthur, @howmanyholesinswisscheese, who as a cishet deadbeat dad of a lot of us, is the worst person to ask for hair advice, but I do it anyway. I need a reference photo for a haircut.

Arthur helpfully scours the internet and comes up with options that include: Gay, hot history teacher, Joe Locke but something's off about it, same as above but different slightly and I can't place it, top 20 haircuts for crazy people, top 100 teen boy haircuts for teens, mullet slash hot history teacher, Hozier, why does the teen boy have a beard, Aussie AFL player, and Chris Hemsworth.

His words, not mine. Does anyone want to check in on Arthur's history teacher because I am getting very concerned for that man.

So I pick a haircut and land up at the salon. Arthur also tells me my hair is wild and I have needed a haircut for too long. Thanks dad.

The hairdressers are not pleased when I point to the red shade and tell them to bleach and dye my entire hair.

They inform me it will look like shit.

They keep asking if I'm sure. I say, with increasing annoyance, that yes I am.

Arthur is in the phone enabling me, yelling that I need to do it for crowley and "THEY DON'T GET TO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO"

The hairdressers then say they're out of red hair dye, I can either do a magenta or come back the next day.

Arthur tells me to leave and go to another salon.

So I do, and I wind up at the salon right next door (Arthur and I cheer for capitalism), an extremely seedy looking place with a poorly painted stairwell that could well be haunted.

I tell the hairdressers there what I want, and they also argue with me about how it will fade, look like shit, etc etc.

Arthur says "THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, THEY'RE JUST HAIRDRESSERS"

He tells me that if Crowley can keep the Bentley together through hellfire through sheer will, I can do the same for my hair.

Finally, they huddle in front of a laptop, muttering, and agree to take me on.

I am then also hair-shamed by the stylist, who tells me in no uncertain terms that if I don't cut my hair as soon as it grows out even slightly, it looks "kharab", which is Hindi for... 'substandard, inferior, bad, shoddy, deficient'. Thanks, mate.

The haircut is done. What follows then is on of the top five most excruciatingly painful experiences of my life.

No, I'm serious. The bleaching and dyeing. It was. Fuck.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

JUST THE MEMORY HURTS

OKAY NEXT PART OF THE SAGA I WILL REBLOG THIS IT IS GETTING TOO LONG

IF YOU WANT THE HAIR REVEAL THEN YOU WILL HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS LIKE I DID, I'M AFRAID

[nerdygoth77]

Some of my favorite Porter Gage lines!

“Keep your irradiated ASS away from me” 

“Boss”  

“Piss me off and I’ll still kick your ass from here to the Atlantic.” 

“Sure was fun! Huh Boss?” 

“I ain’t got the brains for mazes” 

“How's it go? “This town ain't big enough for you and me?” Awh nevermind :(“ 

“Ain't no way people paid for this shit, I refuse to believe it.” 

“Who the hell's idea of fun was this shit?”

“Ever feel the tiniest bit hurt that the institute hasn’t tried to replace you with a synth? I mean c’mon! I’m important. I-I’m worth replacing......” 

“Think about it…. If beer is still good after two hundred years.. Is it really something worth drinking?” 

“Personally, wouldn’t ever trust anyone to knock me out with gas or whatever, even if they claimed they were going to help.” 

“Can you imagine… having so much extra shit you’d need someplace to store it all” 

“Not paying ATTENTION-” (I fuck up a lot and trigger traps LOL)

“Not a big fan of being underground, so the sooner we wrap this up the better.” 

“Once upon a time, I suppose folks had nothing better to do than sit around outside”

“Greeaaat, because I ain’t seen enough trees and grass.” 

“Like I hadn’t already seen enough glowing shit to last a lifetime.” 

“Believe it or not, this is more civilized than some places i've lived”

"One of these bugs ever takes me down you tell people I died from trippin’ over my gun, fallin’ off a cliff, anything! It would be less embarrassing.” 

“Places like this….Makes me realize life was mostly shit before the bombs fell” 

“God…. Being in here is soul sucking.” 

“I hope you know where you’re going, I forgot my map.” 

“Least we ain't gotta worry about being hit by a train…..Right?”

“No question that shit was made to last…Maybe the wrong shit but still.”

“Me? I like night time. Something about it just feels right.” 

“You’re a real stunner, ya know that?”

“Are you shittin’ me” 

“Ever seen a dust angel? Bettin’ I could make one.” 

“Shiiiiitt I hate getting weeettt” 

“I’ve got a strong stomach, but ewwugh.” 

“You’re my kind of crazy boss.” 

“Boy do I love watching you work.” 

“Anyone ever tell you….your ass looks great in that vault suit.” 

“Don’t know about you, but I can’t see in the dark.” 

“You’ll always be the overboss of my heart- Hehehehe I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t keep a straight face.”

“Blamo” 

“Sheeeeeettt” 

“Don't mind me, just throwing up a bit in my mouth here.” 

“Damn, I hate insects. Like I needed something else to wipe off my fucking shoes” 

“VerMIN”

Everything. Just everything he says is wonderful. His voice is so fucking sexy.

"I'm not that big of a dick"

"Bullshit. Without me I'd be scraping your guts off the floor"

"Before you start pissing all over the plan, why don't you take a minute to hear me out."

"You ready to listen?"

"You're one ruthless son of a bitch aren't ya?"

"Awwwhh C'mon :("

"Just give this a chance, you might even have a little fun."

"Tell yuh whut."

"Everything all peachy with our friendly neighborhood psychopaths?"

"Welcome home, boss."

"I knew you had it in you."

"Next, the fun stuff."

"You look like shit."

He refers to getting high as "Getting blitz." LOL

"Well that oughta make things more interesting"

"hehehe OOPS."

"The fun we can have in this thing!"

"That one have pictures in it?"

"I like a good haul as much as the next guy-"

"You sure you got everything? There's a few more rocks you haven't picked up."

"I never had the hands for that kind of shit. Glad you do."

"You got some nimble fingers there huh?"

"You okay?" (When he shows concern?? UGH)

"Well now, would you look at that."

"Oh for the love of-"

"You gonna build me something nice?"

"Lookin good, Boss."

"oooh, gutsy."

"Pretty tough mutt you got there." (Any dialogue about Dogmeat is great)

"Aww, look at how nice and clean this is, and I here am, dirtying the place up." (one of my favorites)

There's so so many more but I didn't want this to get crazy long

[fletchingbrilliant]

🌙some wildly cheap commissions!🌙

🙃 for some even wilder reasons 🙃

hey y'all. long post thingie but it's got cute pictures so please check it out

TRANSCRIPT OF POST

hey frens got something kinda somber to talk about. most of you are very aware of the existence of my beautiful fiance and co-creator of basically everything i do. zae and i are getting handfasted (marriage for pagans) in october, and have been living together for about 10 years. in 2021, zae got really fucking sick, and after a few false starts, was diagnosed with a rare for of vasculitis called granulomatosis with polyangiitis, GPA for short. it’s an autoimmune disease that causes inflammation in blood vessels and other tissues, ultimately stopping blood from getting to the parts of the body that need it, affecting many areas, but primarily the respiratory system. while the cause isn’t known, it usually presents in people in their 50’s or 60’s, but complications from a third bout of covid-19 appears to have made it emerge way earlier for our boy. at least, that’s what we think. his case is extremely aggressive, advancing faster than anyone could have expected. in zae’s case, it actually attacked his kidneys first, and then went after his lungs, causing both to threaten shutting down for good. he was extremely anemic and needed a ton of transfusions, narrowly avoiding dialysis, and we spent weeks in the hospital keeping him alive. he was placed on two different kinds of chemotherapy to combat the disorder. he lost his hair, went through even more fatigue and pain on top of what the disease had already put him through, and had to accept a plethora of changes to his life that will last forever. a lot of you out there have harrowing experiences of your own when it comes to chronic and potentially terminal conditions, too, I’m certain. “it’s not fun” is an understatement. though there were a couple of really fucking close calls, zae’s GPA went into remission. his hair grew back fuller and more luscious than it had ever been before. (i later learned these are affectionately referred to as “chemo curls.”) remission for gpa is usually expected to last at least 5 years, potentially up to 20, before any symptoms resurface. but zae’s case was particularly aggressive, so of course he’s not so lucky. he’s relapsing now. his symptoms have been slowly returning, and it’s been decided that he’s going back on chemo. it’s no surprise that this shit is expensive, even with insurance. we’re still paying off the care he received last time because ‘murca. being disabled myself, work has been… let’s call it inconsistent, yeah? yeah, that’s a nice and comfortable thing to call it. no one’s doing well financially these days, so we of course have to get creative. long story short(er), i’m doing a commission special! for the next MONTH, i am offering fast commissions at crazy-low prices to try and help us create a cushion to keep us afloat and relatively comfortable while we begin the chemo process again. there’s several options for a variety of budgets, because i really hate the idea of seeking something for nothing, and i absolutely abhor having to reach out in this way. it makes me feel vulnerable and icky and… i’m sure you all understand that, too. i can’t thank you all enough just for following me, and engaging with mine and zae’s work. it may sound trite, but that really makes a difference to us, especially when we’re dealing with something so painful. so if you can’t or don’t want to partake of the sale, please know that you are still a huge help to us, and we seriously appreciate each and every one of you. like, so fucking much. thanks y’all love, fletch

END TRANSCRIPT

Commission Options:

Flash Sketches: $5USD/character

Comics: $5USD/panel - flat color

Comics: $10USD/panel - shaded color

Screenshot Redraws - $15USD/character (complex bgs, add $20)

all of this is posted with @zaebeecee's knowledge and blessing

please DM me if you're interested in something, and thank you again

more Hungry Games, fic fanart, and Persona stuff coming soon too

[sophies-junkyard]

NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:

1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.

2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”

3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.

4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.

5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.

6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.

7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???

8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.

9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”

10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.

11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.

12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.

Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments

1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.

2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.

3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.

4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!

5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.

Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.

[dreamersdreamdreams]

♕ becoming a princess ♕

content-type: smut (below the cut) minors do not interact

warnings: afab reader, reader referred to as: princess, unprotected sex (please have safe sex), crying, markings, fingering, spoilers for lesson fifty-nine

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Devildom was lively, as you and Diavolo stood out on the balcony attached to his room. He pulls you in for an enchanting kiss. You stumble back at the sudden movement, but Diavolo grabs your body to protect you in his strong arms. Hands start to wander your body. They roughly grab your waist to pull you closer to him. A sharp moan leaves your lips in shock. He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues roughly play with one another, yet Diavolo takes control. The brightest smile is splayed across his beautiful face. Light giggles fall from your lips. A laugh comes from him before he looks off into the distance.

“Is something on your mind Dia?” you question while you grab at his top.

Diavolo’s demon form manifests. Suddenly, he gets down on one knee. He heard this was a tradition in the human world. Though he would never kneel for anyone, you were the one exception. You let out a sound of shock. He grabs your tiny hands in his huge ones.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

You are mesmerized by his eyes, which are filled with love, but quickly look away before the fantasy can continue. As you looked out into the Devildom, you noticed the thousands of colorful lights it was lit up with. Yet, you find yourself falling into the darkness and starting to question yourself.

“I am only human Dia. There are so many demons that would better suit this role, that could better fulfill your needs and the needs of the citizens of the Devildom,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“Y/N,” he stands up and grabs your chin, bringing your teary eyes to his, “There is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with than you. If it isn’t you, it’s nobody.”

“Are you sure? You could back out now, and I wouldn’t hold anything against you,” you cry out, tears now streaming down your face.

“Y/N, please,” he pleads.

You grab his face and give him a loving kiss.

Then you answer, “I will marry you Diavolo.”

He gently wipes away your tears before lifting you into the Devildom air and spinning you around. His heart swells when your cries are replaced with your sweet giggles. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. You snuggle into the comfort of his hug.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Dia.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lately, things have been crazy around the Devildom getting ready for the royal wedding. You and Diavolo have been very busy planning the wedding together. Today was the day you were moving into the castle. Diavolo decided to take the day off and come over to the House of Lamentation to help pack up your things. You both were planning where each of your items would go in your new room. Diavolo decided to turn one of the guest rooms into a full-blown closet, just for you. You didn’t come into the Devildom with much, but dating royalty proved to grow your collection of stuff. After everything was packed, it was sent on its way to the castle. You both spent hours unpacking, making sure everything was in its place. You looked around to see your plushies on Diavolo’s bed and your collections out on display. You went to bed that night in Diavolo’s arms, holding your favorite plush. The next day you invited Asmo to come with you to shop for wedding outfits. Diavolo told you not to worry about the price like he always did. You tried on hundreds of different outfits, searching for the perfect one. Then, you saw it, staring at yourself in the mirror. You turned around to show Asmo, and he cheered.

“Y/N, you look stunning! That’s the one.”

“I think so too.”

You smile and hug him.

“One more thing,” Asmo says, pulling something from behind his back.

You look, only to blush intensely.

“Asmooooo,” you say into your hands.

“Come on, come on. You’ll look so cute in it! I am sure Diavolo will love it,” Asmo says with a wink.

You end up buying several different outfits, including the one, and Asmo’s recommendation.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Today was the wedding day. You were in one of the guest rooms in the castle that was turned into your dressing room for the day. Asmo was getting you all glammed up. In the middle of getting into your wedding outfit, Mammon comes running in, screaming about god knows what. Before you know it, Asmo is shoving Mammon from the room. Asmo led you down the stairs to meet up with the rest of the brothers. They all praised you the second they saw you coming down the stairs. It was almost time to walk down the aisle. While planning the wedding, you were struggling to pick who you wanted to walk you down the aisle. Each of the brothers were trying to convince you why they were the best choice. You finally decided on having them all walk you down the aisle. They were all such an integral part of your transition into your new home in the Devildom. You hugged them all and expressed how much each of them meant to you. You all got in your place as the doors opened to the outside of the castle. Your eyes immediately were drawn to Diavolo. He looked so magnificent in all his glory. His suit was intricately made to perfectly align with his body. You carefully walked down the aisle, stepping on the petals underneath your feet. The brothers took their places next to you, and Barbatos stood directly next to Diavolo. Diavolo takes your hands in his. You both exchange your vows and repeat after Solomon. You hold your breath as you wait to hear if Diavolo says, “I do”. You look into his eyes and search for his answer. Your eyes secretly plead with him to not break your heart.

“I do,” Diavolo proclaims proudly.

You give him your biggest smile though tears start to fall from your eyes. The overwhelming feeling of joy fills you to the brim. Solomon continues to ask you the same.

“I do,” you say softly.

Solomon pronounces the two of you the prince and princess of the Devildom. Everyone in the venue cheers for you two. As the cheers died down, you knew what came next. You remember the time you asked Diavolo if you could form a pact. His rejection stung at the time but you understood his reasoning. Yet, here you were, moments away from forming a pact with the strongest demon in all the Devildom. Every time he brought up a pact after he proposed, you always told him that was not necessary. He always said he wouldn’t stand for it, that you would make a pact with him. After traveling through memories, you come back to the present.

“I want this to be a sign that a ring could never be. I want us to be connected no matter how far apart we are. I want to be able to protect you even when you are out of arm's reach,” he states sternly.

You nod in agreement. He holds your hands tighter as the magic swirls around you both. You feel a sharp pain in your back and then your skin is glowing in an intricate pattern. Diavolo places a beautifully crafted crown on your head. He grabs you and kisses you deeply, as everyone cheers for the prince and the new princess. You both head into the castle, hand in hand, on your way to the after-party.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Toward the end of the party, Diavolo calls Barbatos over to himself. All you see is Diavolo whispering something in Barbatos’s ear. You can’t hear anything they are conversing about over Asmo. He is whispering to you, asking about what you and Diavolo are going to be doing after the party. When you glance at them, you see them smirking, but you quickly look away. You try to hush Asmo but to no avail. Once Diavolo finishes his conversation, he hugs you from behind. He looks at your face, now filled with a blush.

“You’re blushing Y/N, what are you guys talking about?”

You quickly cover Asmo’s mouth and shout out, “Nothing!”

Asmo walks away with a twinkle of his fingers. You turn around and hide your face in Diavolo’s chest.

You mumble, “Asmo.”

Diavolo deeply chuckles at your comment. The guests start to come up to both of you to say their congratulations. You hug all of the brothers goodbye, thanking them for your time in the House of Lamentation. Sadness fills the moment, but you promise you will visit them often. Once everyone leaves, Diavolo tells you he has a surprise for you. He covers your eyes and leads you somewhere. After a short walk you stop.

“You can look now, Y/N,” Diavolo says, as he takes his hand from your eyes.

You look around to see that you are in the castle’s throne room. When you look straight ahead you see Diavolo’s luxurious throne. It is so big and beautiful; it fits him perfectly. Then your eyes are drawn to a much smaller throne directly next to his, something you have never seen before. You look at him, as your eyes light up.

“It’s your very own throne love, fit for the princess you are.”

“Thank you so much,” you say cheerfully.

You quickly hug him as tight as you could. Diavolo hugs you back, chuckling at your attempt to hug him tightly.

“Anything for you, my love,” he says as he grabs your hand.

He leads you over to the throne, signaling for you to sit down. You take a seat in the comfy throne. You adore the gold details along the throne that match his. When you look up you see Diavolo with his DDD out, waiting to take a photo of you. You pose for the photo with your biggest smile. You both laugh when you guys look over the photo. Diavolo sits down on his throne. He pulls you off your throne and into his lap. He grabs the sides of your face and brings you in for a kiss. The kiss starts to get more intense, and you start moaning into his mouth. His tongue slides into your mouth to dance with yours. He starts undressing you until you speak up.

“Diavolo! Barbatos could walk in on us!” you whisper.

“I promise you he won’t.”

You nod your head still a little unsure. Diavolo continues to remove your clothes. It is taking everything in him to not rip this attire off of you. He knows that he could easily buy you the same clothes, but these hold memories that he wants to savior forever. Once your clothes are carefully placed on your throne, he smirks at the lingerie you are wearing.

“Now what is this?”

You quickly try to hide your face in between Diavolo’s neck and shoulder, only for him to stop you.

“Tsk-tsk, you act so innocent, yet you were planning for this,” he teases.

You whine and ignore his gaze.

He grabs you by the chin roughly and says, “You look beautiful, my princess.”

Diavolo starts kissing your neck gently. You whimper out his name at the feeling. A trail of marks are left behind, as he starts getting more aggressive. He feels your breasts in the lingerie, admiring how they are squished together in the material. Your bra is discarded on the floor after Diavolo skillfully removes it. He aggressively takes one of your breasts into his mouth and the other in his large hand. His tongue circles around your nipple and pulls it with his teeth. Diavolo switches and sucks on your other breast. You grab at his red hair. Hands run across your body and land at the elastic of you thong. He swiftly pulls them off and enters a finger inside you. Your hands fall to his shoulders and grasp at the material of his shirt. Finger after finger is added, opening you up for his dick. Your moans echo off the walls of the large room as you come, just a few pumps in. Diavolo carefully pulls out his hand, as you shake and fall on his chest. You pull at his clothes as he helps you remove them.

“My princess, would you like to sit on a proper throne?”

“Yes, please, Dia!” you moan.

His large hands pick you up by the waist and slowly work you onto his cock. Screams come out of your throat in pain at the stretch of his ginormous cock thrusting inside you.

“Diaaa-,” you whine as the pain washes away.

Diavolo begins thrusting up into while simultaneously bringing you down onto his cock.

“You belong to me now, Y/N.”

“Fuckkk- yes,” you cry out in pleasure, tears running down your face.

Your hips move on their own, chasing the release that is bound to come any second now. Diavolo catches your tell and starts thrusting up into you at an ungodly pace. Within seconds, you’re creaming all over Diavolo’s dick.

“Diavolo!” you moan out in a high pitch.

After hearing your angelic voice scream his name, he is filling you with his seed. A low groan rumbles from his chest. As you recover from your orgasm, you lay on his chest. You both sit there in silence, as he trails his hand along his pact mark on your back, once again glowing as love fills your being.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

It's crazy to me that people call Jonathan a himbo, he's so methodical and clever! It makes sense that Mina would be attracted to someone bright too

Yes, anon, you’re so speaking my language!!! I do wish people would stop calling Jonathan a himbo because — nothing against himbos — but Jonathan is not one of them! And yes, it totally makes sense that Mina would attracted to someone as clever as him, and since she’s also so smart, I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

Before y’all come shouting in my inbox “what do you have against himbos??” and “Jonathan is totally a himbo, what are you talking about?” Let me clear things up:

First of all, I love himbos!!! Kronk from Emperor’s New Groove — peak himbo, imo — is one of my favorite characters. Am I attracted to them? Well…no. As you can probably tell from my last Nova’s Notes, I’m more the kind of person who’s attracted to cleverness or when people nerd out. BUT I cherish himbos for all of their wonderful qualities and if I ever get the opportunity to meet one in real life, I would love to be friends with them! <3333

Secondly, for anyone who’s still saying Jonathan is a himbo…

Himbos have to embody all three qualities equally to be considered himbos! If they are not kind? Not a himbo. Not strong? Not a himbo, I’m sorry! I do make the rules of himbo, I simply follow the rules.

Now on to our good friend Jonathan Harker’s case.

He is undeniably kind. From what we’ve seen so far (not to mention later), he is not only loving to his fiancée, he is kind to strangers as well. He takes gifts from the villagers, even if he does not understand them. Just a couple of entries ago, he was willing to risk his life over a child he didn’t even know (and the same night after he had screamed running away from the women, too). Some of the Dracula Daily book club on here suspects (as do I) that some of the reason he’s so eager to spring into action the next day is to put a stop to Dracula’s evilness for other people, not just for himself. Heck, he’s even talked about Dracula’s good qualities after finding out he’s a prisoner!!! So, kindness? Yes! ✅

As for strong, there’s not as much evidence here, but I would call him somewhat strong because not just anyone could successfully scale a castle wall twice in one day like that! That takes a lot of strength in your core, arms, back, etc. Sure, Dracula can do it — but Dracula is also a vampire with super strength. Maybe it’s easier than I think it is, but I’m not exactly going to look for a castle to try it!! So for Jonathan to crack his knuckles and go “yeah, he can do it, why can’t I?” is both hilarious and shows that he must know something of his own strength. However, he’s also a solicitor and I doubt he’s built like a bodybuilder. So, strong? Maybe not as much as a typical himbo, but let’s give him the check mark because Lizard Fashion is nothing to sneeze at. ✅

Now for the ditzy part….I’d have to say no to that. Himbos are meant to not be “the sharpest tool in the shed” (yes, I did have to hit you with a Smash Mouth reference, sorry not sorry) and Jonathan is farrrrr from that.

Everything he has done so far has been methodical and smart. I covered this in my other Nova’s Notes (you can look under the hashtag on my page if you want to see more :D) so I really don’t want to go through too much I’ve already gone through, but the arguments I’ve seen for him being a himbo — based on the entries we’ve already read — are that he’s not smart because he:

Doesn’t heed villager’s warnings

“Let’s” himself become a prisoner

Is nice to Dracula after he knows he’s a prisoner

Talks about his fiancée a lot (???????)

For the first point, we’ve gone over this, but here we go again — he doesn’t heed the villager’s warnings, no. But keep in mind none of them actually say “The Count is a super dangerous man!! Don’t trust him!!!” Here’s the passage:

“When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a very hysterical way:

‘Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go?’ She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again:

‘Do you know what day it is?’ I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again:

‘Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?’ On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

‘It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?’ She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable.

So here’s the thing: you can see that the only thing the innkeeper’s wife explicitly warns him against is going to the castle that night because it’s a day in their culture where evil spirits are considered to have full sway.

The innkeeper’s wife does ask him if he knows “where he is going and who is going to” — he says no, but she does not speak further on the matter. When he asked about the Count before this, they just refused to speak! I know that may seem like an implicit warning — and it is — but some people on here act as if Jonathan was supposed to have known why they were crossing themselves and immediately have left? Like, he obviously feels uncomfortable, but as he states before and afterwards: he has a job to do. If you were in his position: a newly-appointed lawyer (or position of your choice), and you went to a place where the locals told you not to visit your client that night because it was a night where evil spirits would come out: would you honestly believe them? And if you asked about what your client was like and they just crossed themselves and refused to speak on the matter, would you simply leave the town and tell your boss “nah, sorry, the villagers warned me against him. I decided this client’s not for me”? I guess that honestly depends on you, but I would think not if you want to keep your job!! I know that’s not ideal, but to be fair, he also is not given a fair warning before going in.

There is also that incident in the carriage where he hears those villagers talking and he picks up bits and pieces (including the words werewolf and vampire) but a) they’re not talking to him and b) he doesn’t pick up enough to even indicate who they’re talking about!! In fact, he thinks they’re badmouthing him!!! (Which is understandable, he can only hear a bit and he’s translating on the fly). Again, how he is supposed to automatically know: “oh, Count Dracula is a vampire and I must flee this place immediately.” We know that because Dracula has been a pop culture icon for 100+ years, but Jonathan doesn’t have that kind of knowledge. I feel it’s kind of ridiculous to call him not smart for not knowing this.

However, and this is important, he does take some of this warning to heart. He does take the crucifix and the other vampire-repellent gifts the villagers bestow upon him, despite his skepticism and ignorance of the culture (thanks, English colonization /s). He feels uncomfortable and anxious before he even goes into the castle, literally saying goodbye to Mina in his diary in case he doesn’t make it back!! He keeps the crucifix in his room and uses it to ward off bad dreams and for safety against Dracula (which is not really how he’s supposed to use it, but he wasn’t really told how, so I don’t really blame him for that).

I don’t think a himbo would’ve picked up that something was amiss at any of these points, not until it was too late at least. I think for this test, just picture Kronk (or your fav himbo) in this situation. Would they even notice something was up? Or would they go cheerfully towards the castle?

As for the second point — this is kind of unrelated to the himbo question but — what kind of victim-blame mentality is this????? I have seen people unironically (at least I’m pretty sure it is?) post that Jonathan deserves the abuse he’s getting because he didn’t heed the villager’s warnings (which I already talked about above) and/or he’s “rude” to Dracula. I’m sorry — WHAT???? So if you’re rude to somebody they’re to allowed to lock you up in their castle???? That’s a fair trade? I beg your pardon?! Just…ok. Believe what you want, but maybe let’s not blame the guy who’s been a prisoner in a random stranger’s castle for a month and is sure he’s about to die? Yes, this is fictional and not that deep, but still — weird take.

Back to the himbo question, I mean, he doesn’t really let himself become a prisoner. He’s at Dracula’s castle for a job. Once he’s done with that job he’s ready to leave, but Dracula makes him stay because he literally locks him in!!! He then explicitly tells him he will stay longer and Jonathan has to accept because he is there in place of his boss, and saying no would be like speaking (negatively) for his boss — and Jonathan is not going to do that. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think a himbo would be able to see all of that subtext within that conversation. I actually don’t know this kind of interaction between a true himbo and Dracula would go, but I imagine not well. Dracula thrives off of interesting conversation and wit, as well as being able to maintain a facade of host and guest. I just don’t see if someone like Kronk could maintain that for long because he would probably be like “but I don’t want to stay longer, let me go” or something, which would end the “game”.

Moving on to the third point, he is nice to Dracula after he knows he’s a prisoner for a reason. When he realizes he’s locked up (which he realizes super fast, by the way), he sits down and has a good, long think about what he can do. More passage evidence!

“I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned; and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits; and if the latter be so, I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.”

So he knows Dracula is up to something (or he’s jumped to conclusions) and either way, talking about it is a bad idea. The only way through is to act like nothing’s wrong for now and try to get information out of Dracula. Other than that, he’s going to need to use his brains! Yes, he does talk to Dracula and acts nice — but it’s with a plan and a purpose. Dracula has creeped him out from the start, but he has always been able to maintain good cheer around him. Now, he will put that to use.

So for this himbo test, it’s kind of similar to the second one. Were Kronk in this situation, he would make it by for a while because he probably wouldn’t notice the doors are locked. But once he did…I’m not sure if it would be like the second point where he’d immediately tell Dracula “hey why are all of the doors locked” and the game is up or if his shoulder angel/devil characters would come out to help him. I guess it depends! And to Kronk’s credit, he has figured things out before (e.g. figured out who Pacha was and in relation to Kuzco) *but* it took him like 12 hours after the fact and that’s not how Jonathan operates. Jonathan figures out things pretty quickly. Does he need time to think sometimes? Yes. But he’s pretty much always thinking and trying to figure out more once he’s at Castle Dracula. I just don’t see these two in the same vein here.

For the final point, I haven’t seen much evidence for this, but it needs to be addressed. I think sometimes people tend to equate WifeGuy with “no thoughts, head empty only for wife” and that can be true!!! There are definitely characters like that and I do love them so. Jonathan is undeniably a WifeGuy (and Mina’s not even his wife in name yet), bringing her up anytime he gets a chance. I would argue though that just because he’s in love and brings her up a ton doesn’t mean he’s also not clever and methodical. You can be in love and smart: these can coexist. Mina is a very smart character from what we’ve seen already and she’s in love too!

I don’t really have a Kronk case study for this one, but like anon said — I think Mina is attracted to Jonathan for his smartness and it goes both ways. They love each other for many other reasons (there’s a lot to love!), but I imagine that’s kind of the cherry on top for them.

Why does this matter? I think calling Jonathan a himbo is reducing his character a bit here. Again, I’m not saying being a himbo is bad, but it does discredit his methodical ways and strategy he has in the castle. His methodical nature is part of personality and pretending that doesn’t exist erases his character, in my opinion. Additionally, it raises the question: could a himbo become a lawyer? I…don’t think so…but maybe? Find me a himbo who’s a lawyer and prove me wrong I guess! Wait is Phoenix Wright a himbo…? Question for another time.

In conclusion, Jonathan Harker only passes 1 part of the himbo test (kindness) with flying colors. The strong test he only passes by the tail of his lizard fashion, and as for ditzy? He fails miserably. Recall that for someone to be a true himbo, they have to possess all three traits equally. Even if you could make the case for one, you’d still be missing another. So, no, I don’t think Jonathan Harker is a himbo. You can maybe argue with me that he has himbo moments (if that’s a thing, idk), but overall? No.