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#also he's obviously just doing this for kicks but still lol
rox-reads · 9 months
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thanks alec! still not sure anything's gonna get fixed (and taylor has bigger problems by now too) but hey, at least there's evidence now
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prisonpodcast · 4 months
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Being a dsmp fan is great because there’s so much old content I haven’t seen/watched before like I just got recommended this old Tommy vod that’s just him Jschlatt and Dream in a call discussing compilation channels and it was really interesting
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mainfaggot · 3 days
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just watched challengers at the cinema w my little sister. it was so intense wtf
#i was like grabbing onto my scalp just yanking my hair in the last 5 mins and at the end i yelled (quietly) LOVE WINS!#bc there were only 4 other ppl in the cinema lol#its so fucking stupid on the surface like ok complicated polyamory and also insane obsession with a sport bc that is what makes these people#who they are; as in the sport IS their identity as individuals that's what fills the void that lies underneath skin and bone etc.#blah blah basic shit about messy relationships with the self and romantically with others#but it's also so profound because despite the many obstacles and personality differences. they all love one another and the sport so much.#it's so weird it's twisted in a sense because it's like they only have one another and then obviously tennis (bc tennis is the bridge)#it's very.. codependent#i can't believe my little sister understood like not in a condescending way i cant believe she got it but in a “oh i didnt know you watched#stuff with this much emotion and that you cared enough to critique media“ since she doesn't usually tell me about what shes watching#and when she does she tells me about sitcoms ..#so yeah it was nice that we watched it together but also kind of weird bc#well surface level: the make out scenes were just us giggling awkwardly#and on a deeper level when i was watching it. i couldn't help but think about how#patrick at some point turned into an observer; he stopped being a part of the art tashi patrick trio (and tennis!) and turned#into a spectator#despite very much still being a fellow player#and then tashi became a spectator of the sport despite very much being absorbed in it all and in love with art (?)#i dont know what else to call it but her need to control him came from a place of some kind of care ... albeit manipulative and self serving#so Patrick and tashi are almost parallel lines if that makes sense#theyre kicked out of “the club” whatever the club may be (for Patrick he's no longer in the trio) and for Tashi once the trio is long gone#she's no longer a competitor bc of her injury#and then art is just in the middle of it all#and he'd always followed Patrick's lead in the past and then he started thinking for himself until he became so taken by Tashi#and then he just became her little follower#he just wants to be loved and told what to do because he doesn't know how else to live. im projecting? im projecting. anyway!#the ending. god. the ending sums up their whole past dynamic:#patrick is petty. art is irritated. tashi doesn't get their little dynamic. patrick loves art. art is forgiving. tashi loves the sport#(and maybe she loves them both in her own fucked up control freak way)#z.post
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istherewifiinhell · 1 year
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trying to find just a good combo of turtle clips to make myself cry cause ive got nothing else going on 2nite
[just words below im just thinking things. abt turtles.]
this technically in conversation with unfinished unposted larger thoughts but turtles reading but ack cest la vie. importance is the. getting those spicy brained readings and being confused when confronted with. lol. not those.
its like. mikey is always a fav cause hes been bringing a delightful, warm hearted gremlin energy to the ND coding since 87, at least.
raphie is always a fav cause. cause. [many scrunched up faces and tea kettle noises]. like okay hot head hot head blah blah blah. first thing hes stated to do in the very first issue in 1984? protecting someones flank. second (non kicking butt) thing is. likes being above ground so he can feel free. one of the 1st things in issue 2 is like. aw u know how he gets just wait till he wears himself out (sparing). name a character thats done more for understanding emotional expression not alway matching the root feeling.
donnie will be a fave cause like. lol. gov assigned turtle roll. and also mad science vibes. beating the stereotypes allegations by predating them and being written by ppl who wouldnt even know that was happening.
but leo. leo will be a fav cause if i dont other ppl willlll do it wrong. like hes not even one of my main guys why dont u understand him... its all love the trauma character love the miss communicators love the. forced family roll haver. until there actually gonna be a lil annoying abt it. lil controling? gonna say thing they think are ontologically true but are not in fact? huh. well anyway sometimes he will be written bad but thats not his fault. its fucking turtles man okay. sometimes it will stinky suck yucky disgusting. etc.
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thebearer · 10 months
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follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.
an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!
contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!
“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 
After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 
“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 
“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 
“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 
Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 
“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”
“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 
Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 
“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 
Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 
“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 
Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 
Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 
Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 
“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 
“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 
“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 
“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 
“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 
You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 
You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 
Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 
“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 
“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 
Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 
“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 
“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 
“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 
“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 
“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 
“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 
“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 
“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 
“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 
Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 
“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”
“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.
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“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 
Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 
The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 
“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 
“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 
“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 
Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 
“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 
“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 
“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 
Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 
“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 
“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 
“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 
Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 
Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 
Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 
“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 
“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 
Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 
“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 
“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 
“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 
Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 
That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 
“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”
“New necklace available!!!” 
“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 
“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 
Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-
And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 
It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 
To: Carmen 
‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 
Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 
Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 
So, Carmen did what he always did. 
From: Carmen 
‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 
He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 
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“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 
“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 
“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 
“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 
Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 
“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 
You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 
“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 
“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 
“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 
You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 
“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 
“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 
“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 
“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 
“What? Cousin, what are you-” 
“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 
“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 
“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 
“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 
“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 
Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 
“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 
“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 
“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 
Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 
“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 
Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 
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luckycloverforducks · 3 months
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Fuck it, HH swap AU
Their core personalities and backgrounds stay the same, it's mostly a role switch
Niffty <--> Husker
Angel Dust <--> Vaggie
Alastor <--> Charlie
(the typical for swap AUs, I know,,)
Everyone else stays the same
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These r edits bc I was just figuring out their designs for the AU, I'll draw them normally another time (Husker isn't here cuz I can't find a good png of the mf)
In this AU Alastor started the hotel mostly because he randomly thought up the idea once and thought, "that's fucking hilarious, I'm doing that" + a secondary sentimental reason he'd kill me for saying (he got genuinely fully invested in the cause eventually)
He advertised it on his radio show suddenly out of the blue after 7 and a half years of radio (lol) silence. Alastor still owns Husker's and Niffty's souls but they're also obviously friends (or atleast close to it)
Also he can read tarot bc why not :3
Charlie is closer to her dad in this AU and more sheltered, adopting a more aloof, smug, and dangerous persona so sinners take her seriously, she also has a very slight condescending outlook towards sinners but she's at her core still compassionate and still views them as her people and want to protect them to a certain extent, and she still thinks the Exterminations are unnecessary and cruel, but she doesn't feel like she can do much about it since according to Lucifer's stories and discouragement, she knows heaven likely wouldn't listen much if at all, but when she heard of Alastor's little project it resparked hope in her and she decided to invest in it, becoming co-owner and funder for the hotel.
Angel Dust/Anthony never made a deal with Valentino and actually stayed in his family's crime/mafia business for the 1st half of him being in Hell, but his dad is a POS and kicked him out for being gay so he started doing s3x work, and then he met Alastor after he brutalized his harassers one day, and Angel wanted to repay the favor somehow. Alastor seems interested in him so they struck a deal (not a soul deal, just a simple deal) which has Angel/Anthony is under Alastors protection in exchange for Angel/Anthony's loyalty and assistance when needed (which is a rare case so Angel still feels like he owes Alastor). They grow friendly with time, and Alastor offers to have him be patient zero for his redemption project, and he accepted.
Vaggie/Vi is still a fallen exterminstor and still met Charlie the same way she did in the show, but after that they went their separate ways and Vi finds herself making a deal with Velvette. Instead of being a pornstar like Angel in the show, she is an influencer and a rockstar/singer, she does enjoy making music and playing the guitar but Velvette tends to overwork her and make her do things she doesn't really like for views/popularity. Velvette is the nicest to Vi/Vaggie compared to with her other employees (which isn't a very highly set bar tbh) but she also frequently break her boundaries.
Vi met Charlie again during one of her concerts and they got close and started dating. (Also one sided Velvette x Vaggie is sort of slightly maybe canon in this AU bc toxic Yuri is fun (and it's only fully one sided after Charlie and Vaggie/Vi started dating))
She helps manage the hotel when needed, but is honestly only there cause Charlie is.
Not much about Niffty changes tbh (she's perfect the way she is, utterly unhinged 😍) she's just a bit more mellowed out and less hyper (she's still hyper just not all the time like in the show) and she's also a bartender and has surprisingly good taste for alcohol, and also frequently makes borderline poisonous drinks while experimenting, but when she gets it right it's really good. Doesn't stop the others of being terrified of her drinks though
Husker is a more smiley and charming in this AU, using a laid back attitude to put people at ease and more willing to open up to him if they need to (he used to use the information people share as blackmail when he needs to back when he was an Overlord, although he never actually needs to spread anything, just threats), and he's still very observant but he's also slightly more unhinged- He's a sort of butler/cleaner for the hotel
He still gets grumpy time to time, but mostly when he's drunk, which isn't as often anymore ever since Niffty was put in charge of the bar (understandably so)
He has a bit of an anger issue and also gets annoyed easily, and sometimes makes unhinged threats as a sort of joke (they stop being much of a joke once you genuinely piss him off)
He likes things clean and tidy because it helps him pretend to be put together
He and Alastor are a bit friendlier compared to in the show, hes still one of the few people that knows more about Alastor, though hes still bummed about the whole being owned by Alastor thing (Husker can also read tarot to a lesser extent bc Al taught him for funzies and Husker thought it's interesting)
His gambling addiction is also ever so slightly worse
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autumn-hiraeth · 10 months
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Rockabye!
Hobie brown x reader
angst but not enough. First part.
NEXT PART
a/n: so many people asked for a second part. So i hope y'all like it! ( loved all the comments lol). Part 3? Gimme ideas pls
Find more here “ Hobie's masterlist 🕷”
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You knew that being with someone like Hobie Brown would change your life completely and you weren't wrong. It's been three years since you saw him, three years since Hobie not only broke your heart but also got you pregnant (how thoughtfu of him). You found out you were pregnant a month later and it felt so bad 'cause Hobie obviously didn't feel nothing for you. At first you thought he was just busy but soon you got the message; he was not coming back.
So all on your own, you move in, and do what you have to do to make sure your little girl grow up well and has a good life.
Your daughter has some of your features, but she's a mini Hobie Brown. So you try to stay away from him, however he's fucking Spider Punk, if he really wanted to know about you he would have already found you. :( Never mind, he would make a terrible father. You think.
But one unexpected day, Hobie Brown meets your daughter. His daughter. Hobie is panting hard, trying to save people 'til suddenly his spider-sense kicks in and his heart races 'cause he's never felt like this before.
Then he sees a little girl crying, her parents aren't around and no matter how hurt he is, he doesn't hesitate to swing her out of the danger. He looks at the little girl and is shocked 'cause the kid , who is still sobbing, is exactly like him. She takes after him.
So Hobie tries to calm her down, he's cradling her in his arms, not taking his eyes off her as he murmurs "don't cry, little girl"
Hobie knows he should be helping other people, but he can't, the kid looks so much like him that he doesn't want to leave her alone, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to her.
However, Hobie scoffs at his thought, of course the kid doesn't look like him, he's just tired. And when Hobie finally manages to calm the kid down, he hears a familiar voice. "Rhea! Oh thank god you're fine!" you are in front of him crying, in a frantic state and you don't even seem to realize that your daughter is being held by Spider Punk, her father, no, instead you take her off his arms while you sob happy to have found her safe and sound.
But Hobie is frozen watching the scene; you, the love of her life, whom he abandoned three years ago, holding your daughter while you kiss her cheeks in relief and his heartbeat races 'cause Hobie suddenly seems to figure out why the kid looks like him... It is her daughter. He's dad. "Y/n..." as soon as you hear his voice you hug your daughter as a defense mechanism.
“I gotta go” your voice sounds more serious and your look makes him feel guilty instantly. "Fine, I'll take you two home" he suggests and you frown because you can't believe he has the audacity to just act like everything ended well between the two of you.
"no way, I don't need your help" you are being cold and Hobie understands that; he understands that you hate him 'cause he abandoned you; he abandoned his pregnant girl; the thought of everything you had to go through to take care of his, your, daughter, burns deep inside him.
'cause if he had only stayed then now you and Hobie would be a family and he knows he would be a good father. Yes, being a father is a thought he never had but now, he knows that he would make a good father even a good husband.
"Y/n please" he pleads, he wants to talk, apologize and meet the kid, tell you that he's still loving you, but you don't care what Hobie wants so you pick up your daughter, who hides her face in the crook of your neck. "Stay away Hobart" you tell him and Hobie lets you go, for now.
But you two know that they'll see each other again, 'cause Hobie knows that he has a daughter with you.
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werewolf-witchboy · 2 months
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😇✨ Sugar Daddy Lucifer Morningstar X Gender Neutral Sugar Baby Reader ✨😇
SUMMARY: you're the king of Hell’s favorite influencer and he wants to make it very clear how much he appreciates you and loves your content, thus starting a transactional relationship between the two of you that slowly turns into something more.
WARNING: light stalker stuff going on for a little bit lol ┐( ̄ヮ ̄)┌ also some sugar baby catching feelings for sugar daddy nonsense
(also- i'm using the terms "sugar daddy" and "sugar baby" pretty loosely, and there are no sexual transactions in this story)
NOTE: I keep going back and forth between saying “livestream” and “video,” so just assume that in the story y/n mainly does livestreams and uploads them as videos later.
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•You started out as a humble influencer in Hell.
•What you didn't know is that you happened to be the favorite influencer of THE king of Hell Lucifer himself.
•I personally headcanon that when this man finds something he likes, he REALLY obsesses over it.
•I can imagine him laying in bed with a cozy blanket and a snack, kicking his knees while watching your latest upload.
•Not gonna lie Luci got kinda stalker-ish in order to find you and know you in person.
•He is the king after all, so therefore he has ways to find and keep track of his people.
•It started as him sending you money anonymously as a way to give his appreciation to his favorite content creator.
•You'd sometimes get small donations here and there from different people, but you definitely noticed the big donations you'd consistently get. Even though they were all anonymous, you assumed they were all from the same person because it was usually always an absurd amount of money to donate to an influencer.
•While livestreaming one day you mentioned that you wanted to find out who this anonymous donor was and somehow do something special to thank them.
•Lucifer NEVER misses one of your livestreams and felt extra fanboyish thinking about his fav influencer doing something special specifically for him.
•He knew he couldn't just message you and say “I'm your anonymous donor” because he didn't have a public account. If he were to message with his anonymous account saying that he's the king of Hell you'd obviously think he was lying.
•HERE is where his stalker era starts. 💀
•Luci comes up with this convoluted plan that actually somehow ends up working exactly the way he wanted.
•He happens to “find” you at a place he knew is your favorite café just outside of Cannibal Town.
•He pretends to just be casually walking by (well, as “casual” as the king of Hell can be)
”Oh hey! I've seen a few of your videos, I like your content!”
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•You're absolutely baffled that the man in front of you praising your content is Lucifer himself.
•Lucifer invites himself to sit down with you, and how could you possibly refuse.
(He knows using his status to get what he wants is a lil problematic, but he easily pushes any guilt aside cuz he gets to be in your presence. He honestly wonders why he hadn't done this sooner.)
•He uses this opportunity to ask you a bunch of questions he's always wanted to ask, as if this were his personal Q&A with you. You happily answer his questions and even ask your own, eager to get to know Lucifer.
•Eventually he asks the main question that'll set his plan into place.
“Have you ever done any collabs?”
Of course he already knows the answer is no.
•”I've never asked anyone to collaborate with me, I'm a little insecure and automatically think they'll say no.”
•”I'm shocked! I'd personally love to be in one of your videos!” He boasts.
•Even though you've been talking for a while now, your brain still hasn't been fully able to compute that you're not only talking to Lucifer Morningstar, he says he enjoys your content, AND he just said he'd like to be in one of your videos.
•”Wha- I'm sure you've got so much more important things to do!”
•”I've got spare time!”
•When he realized he was probably starting to sound desperate, he backed it up a bit;
“I'm not trying to invite myself into one of your videos, but what I am saying is that IF I were one of those people you were to ask then I'd definitely accept your offer!” He twiddled his fingers nervously under the table, his smile never faltering.
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•”oH I mean I do want to ask you- I am asking you!” You become just as nervous as Lucifer, fumbling over your words a bit.
•Before you can say anything else he raises from his seat and extends his hand out in agreement. “Sounds good to me!” You quickly stand to take his hand and shake it.
•The two of you calm down a bit and start discussing times and dates, even though Lucifer knows he's just going to accept whatever day you suggest and cancel any plans that he might already have for that day.
•Lucifer's little plot went perfectly.
•The day came when Luci got to feature in a video with his fav influencer.
•The video blew up super quickly, you gained a whole new wave of fame.
•Not only was he in the video with you, but he also got to spend the whole day with you.
•Somewhere along the way he kind of forgot that he was with his fav influencer and started to feel more like he was just hanging with a friend…which, honestly, he hasn't really had a friend in a long time.
•Also- you had noticed that during the stream with Lucifer you didn't get any donations from your special anonymous donor who never missed any of your previous streams.
•THIS MOMENT is where Lucifer knows he could potentially ruin everything with you, but he wants to be honest.
•He tells you that he's the anonymous donor, and that he can prove it with receipts. He admits that he didn't just casually watch your content like he said previously, and that he's actually a super huge fan. He doesn't go into detail about the stalker-ish extent he went to find you though.
•You take a second to process everything.
•I think if it were any other man you'd probably be a bit weirded out. It's definitely mainly because he's the king of Hell, but also he's just so charming that it's kinda hard for you not to be flattered.
•Now the king of Hell is in your phone contacts and you've got a viral video of the two of you together that shows literally everyone that you know him, it all feels so surreal.
•You still get donations from him on your streams, they still say they're anonymous but you know it's him.
•Lucifer calls you ALL THE TIME, usually to talk about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time.
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•Suddenly he started showing up at your door with random gifts. Usually things that you mention very briefly on social media.
•Like one day you posted a pic on your story of a cute pair of shoes that you'd like to have, and the next day he's on your doorstep with a shoebox in hand.
•This escalated to him taking you out to dinner quite frequently, and he'd always go out of his way to reserve a special private area or even book out the whole restaurant.
•Then he started inviting you to visit him. Movie nights at his place, or he wants to show you something new he made.
•Eventually it turned into you staying the night at his place sometimes. You'd fall asleep during movie night and he didn't wanna wake you, or your home is just so far away and he didn't wanna let you go home in the dark.
•THEN it became you staying at his place for multiple days in a row, and sometimes it felt like you practically lived with him.
•You’d always ask Lucifer what you could do to repay him for all of the stuff he does for you, and he just replies that your company is enough to satisfy him and when you aren't around he still gets to watch your new videos.
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•After getting to know the king of Hell over the span of almost a full year, you've come to realize that he was a pretty lonely man before you met him.
•He almost never talks to his own wife, whom you aren't even sure is his wife anymore. He rarely talks to his daughter, and is terrified of not being a good enough dad to her. Most of his time is spent home alone if he isn't tending to somekind of personal royal business.
•You knew Lucifer meant it when he told you that your company is enough to repay him.
•Somewhere down the line, you've started catching yourself contemplating your feelings for him.
•Don't get me wrong, he's always made you swoon and get flustered. It's really hard not to when a handsome man is literally handing you everything you want on a golden platter.
•There are much more raw moments you have with him, when you're just sitting on the couch together and you start to think about your possible future together.
•You usually end up getting slapped with reality when you remember who it is you're looking at. The king of Hell.
•Being in a relationship with a man of such status could never be in the cards for you. You're aware that you're basically just his sugar baby and that's probably all you'll ever be.
•You were definitely fine with the transactional relationship between the two of you, in fact you enjoyed it.
•Now, with these feelings constantly creeping up on you it made everything so much more complicated, and it made it hard for you to be around him knowing you'll never be anything more to him than a sugar baby.
•Lucifer is a sweet man, but you know there's another side of him that's a powerful king. His wife was an equally powerful queen. You're not enough for him, he just wants someone to keep him company.
•What you don't know is that while you're sitting there on the couch next to him having an inner depressive episode, he's got a box in his pocket that he's waiting for the perfect moment to whip out.
•In the box is a flashy custom engagement ring that he wants everyone to be able to see from a mile away.
•That man wants to make you officially his and he has been trying his hardest to make that VERY clear.
•You're just kinda insecure and don't think high enough of yourself. ಥ⌣ಥ
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missmeinyourbones · 2 years
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BOYS ARE STUPID
cw: implied f!reader, mentions of girlhood and teenage insecurity, the girls are gossiping and suna is jealous >:) wc: 2.4k
a/n: so this is technically a suna x reader piece but it kinda turned into something else along the way ??? with that being said, this was truly a blast to write. something about girlhood is so special to me :( so this felt like therapy to be able to bring to life LOL, completely inspired by this cute art of sister!suna and her loser brother
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Sometimes, you think Suna just speaks to get a reaction out of you.
A true wild card, you’re never quite sure what nonsense is brewing behind his eyes and atop his tongue. He likes the element of surprise, confusing you with a random fact or flustering you with a lewd remark. You’ve become used to his antics, taking what he gives you and no longer expecting anything less than odd when it comes to him. 
Laying on top of his plaid comforter, you can hear muffled insults being thrown through the walls of his bedroom. His tone isn’t seriously angry or upset, but instead laced with a special annoyance that only a younger sibling can pull from their senior.  
The bickering abruptly ends as Suna swings his bedroom door open to return to you. Briefly, you spot his younger sister in the hallway behind him—slightly pouting with her arms crossed in defense. She goes to open her mouth once more, but Suna is quick to grab what he can from his desk (an Animal Crossing themed plushie) and throw it her way before slamming the door shut.
You send him a humorous glance, one that silently begs for the details of the quarrel. Your boyfriend reads your interest like a book, before plopping himself in his desk chair with a sigh. 
“My sister wants to hang out with you,” he drops casually.
“What? Really?”
Your head immediately lifts from Suna’s pillow in excitement, turning your attention to where he swivels his chair in lazy circles. 
“Yup,” he emphasizes the pop of the p through his pursed lips, “said she wants to save you from my cooties, or something stupid.”
Your nose slightly twitches at his big brother-esque explanation—catching your scolding glare, he holds his hands up in innocence, “Her words, not mine.” 
You sit on the statement, still puzzled at how the quarrel in the hallway correlates with the information at hand. Seeing your brow still furrowed with confusion, he clarifies, “She also thinks you’re cooler than me.”
You scoff with amusement, “I mean, she’s right about that.”
Suna’s younger sister, a timid but incredibly witty girl, had honestly never expressed too much of an interest in you. It’s not that she didn’t like you, she was just quiet, young. Often reserved and keeping to herself, much like her brother, whose mischievous personality never quite shined through until you’d gotten to know him better.
The mere thought of her insinuating an interest in your friendship has you beaming with an overwhelming excitement.  
Nearly jumping from his bed, you sit yourself up against the headboard with an impatient, “Well, what’d you tell her?”
Now, it’s Suna’s turn to scoff, “No, obviously.”
He drags his feet along the navy rug of his room as he swings back and forth in his chair, kicking his legs out before him every now and then. He looks oddly young doing so, like a child ashamed of an incident at school or a puppy who’s just chewed up the couch cushions. 
“Rintaro!” your tone spills with frustration. You throw a pillow his way, one he dodges with ease, “Why would you say that? I’d love to take her out!”
“She’s a freak,” he’s quick to retort, voice trailing off as his sentence strings itself along, “and maybe I don’t wanna share you.”
The realization sets in slowly—the shyness you believed to be guilt was actually jealousy. You swear you see a faint blush lingering on his pale cheeks as he holds his tongue between his teeth. The sight soothes the irritation that threatens to flood your response. 
“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, Rin,” you do your best to softly reassure his childish thought, “unless you really do have cooties.”
His tongue presses against the inside of his bitten cheek at he sits on his response, “Well if I do, then that sucks for her. Because you definitely have them by now.”
With an amused smile, you extend a grabby hand in his direction, motioning him to join you in his bed. With an immature scowl, he begrudgingly does—slowly standing from his desk and sulking his way over to your embrace. 
He slumps his full body weight on top of you, fighting off a chuckle when he hears your stifled groan beneath him. Your fingers find the tuffs of hair that decorate the nape of his neck. He feels himself relax beneath the tender scratch of your nails, before feeling your breath tickle his ear.
“Tell her I’ll take her out to lunch, we can plan a date,” you conclude in a whisper that leaves him little room to argue.
Suna internally pouts at your use of the word date with anyone other than him, let alone his sister. He’s smart enough to know the lack of threat behind it, but he can’t help himself—he’s alarmingly stubborn and incredibly jealous when it comes to you, regardless of whoever it is taking your time away from him.
But still, something about the pleading in your voice and the excitement flashing behind your eyes has him giving in to your command without a fight. 
“Fine.”
...
Rintaro’s sister is just like him, practically a lab-created clone of his reserved, yet witty persona.
A part of you would think they were twins if it weren't for her evident childish flair—her zebra print backpack slightly bounces as she walks, the scrunchie that loosely holds her ponytail is wrapped in sequins of purple and blue, her cellphone is decorated with stickers of sleeping farm animals. 
Though years younger and barely her own person yet, she embodies a lot of his little quirks. Her eyes squint of the slightest judgement at your choice in restaurant, her mouth permanently resides in a pressed line when it’s not being stuffed with buttered bread, her laughter—though sparse and quiet—is contagiously light and airy.
The lunch is going as well as expected. It’s fine, a few awkward pauses here and there, paired with a few conversations that go a bit farther than anticipated. You find yourself thinking about your thirteen-year old self, if the two of you would’ve been friends who giggle in the cafeteria about silly, nonsensical things. 
Her smooth and collected voice interrupts your thoughts. 
“What do boys like?” she abruptly inquires between generous gulps of pink lemonade. You watch the rose colored liquid crawl up her straw as she makes a dent in the amount rather quickly. 
A bit taken back at the loaded question, you stutter, “What do they like?”
“Yeah, like, I don’t know—” she trails off, suddenly anxious and dismissive compared to her prior attitude, as she tries to find strength in her words, “—is there something that you can do…to make them like you?”
The innocent question breaks your heart, having been a growing and insecure teenager once yourself. You can’t help but ache to know her reasoning for the sudden inquiry, and why on earth she’s asking you of all people for advice on the matter. 
Not wanting to belittle her vulnerability, you send a reassuring smile her way. “Why’re you asking me?” bubbles from your throat with a friendliness you hope she finds comfort in. 
Her familiar golden eyes bore back at you in judgement once more, before elaborating what she thought to be obvious. Almost as if it physically hurts to explain herself, she does so in a rushed ramble.
“Because you’re cool, and Rintaro really really likes you,” she idly twirls her fork between her fingers to busy her hands, “and if my loser brother managed to score someone like you, then there must be something I can do to get people to like me, too.”
Her blunt delivery makes you laugh, which brings the faintest twitch of a smile to her face. After all, if there’s one thing the Suna siblings have in common, it’s making people laugh with their lack of filter. 
You want to reach across the table and offer her a hand—as a sister, a friend, a mentor, anything she’d be willing to accept. You want to grab her by the shoulders and insist that she’s perfect the way she is right now, that she shouldn’t change to please anyone, let alone teenage boys who don’t know their ass from their elbow. You ache to drill into her mind that girlhood is grueling. That it strips you of an innocence you didn’t even realize you had until it’s already gone, leaving nothing but a hollowed core behind.
However, looking across the table at the timid girl, you see a reflection of not only your boyfriend, but of yourself in her uneasy adolescence. With a deep exhale, you decide on the simplest, most poetic terms you can muster. 
“Boys are stupid,” you retort with confidence, “and I wish I could say they get smarter as they get older, but I don’t think they do.”
A foreign look flashes across her face, and you're not too sure if it’s one of surprise or disappointment. Either way you go on, taking a small pride in the way her eyes light up with interest at your continuation.
“But just because they’re stupid, doesn’t mean there aren’t a few good ones, too,” you remind her. 
Because as you think about a jealous Rintaro sulking in the grey walls of his childhood bedroom, you decide that’s what life and love and boys are—sometimes stupid, sometimes good, sometimes both and somehow neither.
She chews on your words for a few silent moments, thinking them over and playing out their possibilities. 
“You should just be yourself,” you conclude when the server passes your table, dropping off a dessert that resembles a middle schooler’s dream concoction.  “Boys will like that, or at least the boys who matter will.”
After a few moments of silence and a dessert that’s begging to be devoured now sitting in the center of the table, the younger Suna speaks up. 
“Is my brother stupid?” she eyes the plate with a spoon in hand and a hungry, determined look in her eye.
The simple question has you laughing once more, before confirming with a mere nod, “The stupidest.”
...
Suna practically races to the door when he hears your car pull into his driveway.
Trying (and failing) to play it cool, he casually waits by the threshold for the two of you to prance through the entryway. He’s nearly knocked off his feet by what he sees—his little sister, always stoic and snarky, is smiling from ear to ear as she giggles her way inside with you trailing not far behind.
She makes eye contact with her older brother, immediately changing her soft expression to her usual cold and disinterested glare. 
Rintaro sees right through her act. 
After all, he reacts the same way when he’s caught smiling at your words by the twins. He can’t help but swallow back the realization that, maybe that’s just the infectious effect you have on the Suna family. 
You greet him with a grin as you take your shoes off, making your way towards the extended arm raised by his side. He wastes no time in motioning you towards the privacy of his bedroom. You follow his not-so-subtle lead, but not without thanking his sister again for your date today. 
As you enter his room with his hand guiding your back, he releases a long-held sigh of relief. 
“So, what’d you guys talk about?” he immediately spills over—meant for you, but his sister responds from the hallway before he can fully close the door to his bedroom. 
Through the tiny creak, she smirks before howling, “How stupid you are.”
Suna’s quick to swing his door open once more, throwing the nearest item decorating his floor (today, a dirty Inarizaki hoodie) her way before firing back with mockery. 
“Ooooh, good one. You should be a comedian.” 
His door slams shut before she can retaliate, and the deja vu of the situation has you fighting off a smirk. Suna stares at the wooden panel for a moment before taking a sharp inhale and turning towards you.
The look in his eye completely contradicts his prior expression of annoyance as he beams your way, realizing he didn’t greet you properly in the midst of his anxiousness. 
He reaches for your hand and places a sweet kiss on it’s back, “Hi, pretty.”
You return his words with a laugh, “Hi, Rin.”
“How was it?” he asks earnestly this time, all attention devoted to you. 
While he may have been jealous of his sister spending time with you, he’s also a bit antsy to hear how it went. He wants to know where you ate, what you talked about, how much money he’s going to venmo you later for the bill (even though he knows your stubborn ass will refuse it). 
He wants to know if his sister showed you any embarrassing pictures of him from middle school, or if you told her about the time he tripped down the stairs. He wants to know if the two of you sat in an uncomfortable silence at first, if it eventually faded into a natural conversation of banter and giggles. He wants to know if you’d do it again, if you liked spending time with one of the people who made him the instigator he is today.
After all, you are two very important people in his life—in different ways of course. He loves you every single morning when he wakes up, wants to smother you in every ounce of love he can muster. He wants to strangle his younger sister most of the time, yes, but that doesn't mean it’s not out of love.
With his nerves melting away, he’s more than relieved when your lips stretch into a soft smile. 
“It was fun,” you beam with giddy excitement. “She reminds me a lot of you.”
Suna dryly chuckles. “Weird, it’s almost like we’re related,” sarcasm drips through his quick response.
Your hand pulls away from his and finds his arm with a smack, but it feels like a win for Suna when you giggle at this words and let him pull you down onto his bed.
He brushes a few stray hairs from your forehead, “So what’d you guys actually talk about?”
His eyebrows furrow at your sudden expression, one with equal elements of guilt and mischief. 
You grin, “Well, I mean, technically she’s not wrong.”
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makeithappenandreal · 4 months
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If Donna stayed the Doctor's companion Part 2:
12th Doctor: *trying his best act* Look, Donna, So I am with monks now, I don't care about the Earth or your people...
Donna: You know I can tell the type of breakfast you had today from looking into your eyes at this point , right?
Donna: So wrap your acting up, we have an afternoon tea arranged at Jupiter after we get this monks out of the Planet.
12th Doctor: Can't you just play along for once...
-
12th Doctor: I can't tell Donna that I am blind! She will fuss over me!
Nardole: You need to tell her! How can you hide it?
12th Doctor: Trust me, she will not notice one single thing.
Donna: *the second she walks into TARDIS* You are still blind, aren't you?
12th Doctor: Oh for Time's sake...
_
11th Doctor: So, River is Amy and Rory's daughter and she is also my wife as well... Does that mean Amy is my in law?!
Donna: She can berate you Like a child at any time. Living my dream for real
_
Donna: ...
12th Doctor: Not another word-
Donna: WORLD PRESIDENT LOL *bursts out laughing while pointing at him*
Donna: UPGRADE FROM TIME LORD VICTORIOUS THO
12th Doctor: Oh hell.. *puts his head on his hands*
_
_
War Doctor: We are surrounded by knights, we need to do something to escape!
11th Doctor: Oh there is no need to espace. Watch. Donna?
Donna, from the portal: YOU STUPID SPACEBOY WHERE IN THE EARTH ARE YOU AND I AM COMING THERE TO KICK YOUR IDIOT ASS TO SPACE
Knights: *run away in true terror*
10th Doctor: It's like we never left...
_
12th Doctor: *after turning up on the coffee shop Donna's relaxing* So, remember Davros?
Donna: ... Of course I do.
12th Doctor: *laughing nervously while thinking how he fucked up* So Guess what...
_
10th Doctor: *getting married to Queen Elizabeth*
Donna and 11th whispering aggressively behind* : - I cannot believe you did not mention you were married to QUEEN ELIZABETH! -.OBVIOUSLY i diDN'T KNOW!-
_
12th Doctor: So this is Gallifrey!
Donna: I thought it was Space Eden or something from the way you described it, this is just red sand. Like literal Azirona has more eccentric places than here.
12th Doctor: ...i sincerely want to believe I will be able to impress you one day because this is killing me.
_
Donna: So...
12th Doctor: ...
Donna: Why did you kidnap the president's wife?
12th Doctor: Oh, Heaven, you had a conversation with Missy, didn't you?
Donna: I literally have enough material in my hand to embarrase you for at least one regeneration, yeah.
Missy: She is my favorite.
_
13th Doctor: *steals Donna's coats every once in a while and does not give the clothes back*
Donna: *rants to her about that but secretly loves it*
_
12th Doctor: Clara, please be rational and give the TARDIS keys to me.
Donna: *whispers to Doctor* Not to interrupt an emotional moment but she does know you can just snap your fingers and get into TARDIS doesn't she?
12th Doctor: *shakes his head slightly*
Donna: Also that I have an extra key...
Donna: In fact I have a bowl of them because you like the noise the keys make when you drop it in there
Donna: But I guess this is what we are doing because you like to see people in angst. Okay.
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0h0possum · 3 months
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A Codywan and How to Train Your Dragon crossover that turned into a the Mandalorians factions are dragons AU, because I can never just do something simple and for the heck of it.
If you’re not interested the AU lore, leave now or suffer my rambling lol.
Basically, the idea is that Mandalorians started as a race that could shift into dragons. The Mand’alor line and those of most influence were notably ‘Fury’s (for example Mand’alor Tarre Viszla was a Nightfury and so is his generational line). But over time most Mandolorians who could shift were killed off or just lost the ability as more non-shifter Mandolorians married in. Eventually only a few of the Fury’s were around, and when Mandalore split most chose factions lead by the remaining Fury lines. AKA: the New Mandalorians/Lightfury’s, the Haat Mando'ade or True Mandalorians/Duskfury’s, and the Kyr’tsad or Death Watch/Nightfury’s.
Basically this also helps explain (in my head) why Mandalorians would follow Death Watch (terrorists) or the New Mandalorians (Intense Pacifist). It’s because they see those lines that can still shift as chosen leaders or a physical embodiment of the Ka’ra’s will.
How is Obi-Wan a shifter though? Well in this AU he’s the son of Tor Viszla. Long story short, early on when Obi-Wan was born he displayed being force sensitive, and Obi-WAN’s mom (Tor’s wife??? Idk it’s not important to the story) basically went ‘Aw hell naw’ and tried to drown Obi-Wan. Only to be stopped by a traveling Jedi who stole Obi-Wan and saved him. Totally unaware that this baby was Mandalorian, the son one of the biggest Mandalorian factions, AND also one of the last few existing Mandalorian dragon shifters. (Also Obi-Wan’s mom doesn’t want to admit that she lost Obi-Wan to a Jedi and just tells Tor that he was force sensitive and she succeeded in drowning him).
Maybe I’ll get into it later but basically Obi-Wan grows up as normal in the Temple, but obviously at some point he shifts and has the biggest panic of his life. But with help from friends (Quinlan, Garen, Siri, and Bant) he figures out shifting (enough to control it) and helps keep it a secret (Mandalorians and Jedi still don’t have best relations and Obi-Wan is paranoid about being kicked out of the Order anyways *cough cough Brandomeer cough cough Melinda/Daan*). To be clear, Obi-Wan isn’t like ashamed of what he is. He just doesn’t want the judgments of coming from CLEAR Mandalorian roots, and Death Watch at that. Plus he kinda just decides to not think about how he’s pretty much definitely related to well known terrorist Tar and Pre Viszla, because then he doesn’t have to address it. Besides he’s happy as a Jedi.
Anyways, NOW CODY-
So without getting to detailed (mission failed lol) all the clones ARE shifters (Duskfury’s just like Jango Fett), but they have it suppressed by the Kaminoans (probably part of their chips? I haven’t thought it fully out yet). BUT THINGS HAPPEN, probably Cody and Obi-Wan get stranded alone somewhere for a long time and Cody gets his chipped fucked up somehow, and now he’s shifting into a dragon???? And scaring the shit out of both him and Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan exposes himself as a dragon shifter as well to comfort Cody and show that he will keep his secret. Plus he clearly understands him. (At this point they both are under the impression the clones aren’t shifters, and think Cody is just an outlier and “late bloomer” so to speak). Cue them learning how to be dragons together and be comfortable in their other form.
And eventually they get rescued and find out somehow all the clones are shifters, and therefore find the chips and discover Palpatine’s plan, SO THE GALAXY IS SAVED!
(Additionally the clones get rights and go to form their own society/group (Obi-Wan comes with to be with other dragons, but mostly to be with Cody), and they form an alliance with the New Mandalorians and accidentally unit Mandalore purely by the three Fury types (Nightfury/Obi-Wan, Duskfury/Cody, Lightfury/Satine) being around each other lol.
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yappyappyapp · 2 months
Note
Obsessed "Baby, Only You!" It filled every inch of my heart with love! May I ask what your fave Beatles album and song are? Mine are Revolver and "Dear Prudence." May I also please make a request for Jack Hughes? Anything more with him and a more stoic/quiet in public girl, would love to see where your incredible mind takes you. The way he understands and defends is just...yes! I needed that lol. Please and thank you!
i’d do it a hundred more.
(JACK HUGHES x reader)
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hey!! thank you so so so much literally this made my day. 🫶🏻
my fav beatle albums def are sgt peppers and help (i adore the movie), and my fav songs are the long and winding road, i want you (she’s so heavy), across the universe, sgt pepper’s lonely hearts club band and julia :))
warnings: no mature subjects, fluff, no proofread (you can tell i never proofread my stuff)
—————
you had always been a quiet kid, stoic and stern looking. that obviously lead to you having a resting bitch face, making not many people approach your phlegmatic gaze.
not many kids were your friends, forcing you to turn your back to society and do things yourself, cold walls lifting to sternly keep out outsiders.
that was,
until jack. he melted those ice walls, wiggling himself in a short period of time, to be the centre of your universe. you fell in love with this man, the way his wide smile made your lips curl into a grin, the way his blue eyed gaze was boyish and gentle, the way he reassured you when a girl tried to get his number and hit on him, he stood up for you, most important of all. he was your everything.
he understood everything about you, your reactions, how you felt in public and how you were the most loud and outgoing person on the inside, when it was just them two, locked away giggling together.
jack held your heart and kept it protected, he knew your past, and you like the back of his hand, so he made it his part to protect you from jabs that people made.
one of his teammates girlfriends took a shot in mocking you and jack was sure to glare at her and tell her off.
“why do you look like that? you aren’t even in jacks league. don’t even pretend you aren’t not trying in the relationship.” the girlfriend snootily said, her boyfriend did nothing in reply to defend you. you glanced towards jack and could see him get angry, so you squeezed his knee, but he still started to yell at the girl, making her jaw drop and her eyes open wide.
“you don’t know her!”
“don’t ever speak about her in that way!”
“don’t speak on our relationship!”
jack roughly grabbed your hand and walked you out.
“you didn’t have to do that.” you said quietly, kicking some tiny rocks on the pavement with your shoe.
“for you? i’d do it a hundred more times.”
—————
sorry if this ain’t any good but
🫶🏻❤️🤍
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julilovesyou444 · 10 months
Text
hotel room ~ tom kaulitz
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background- you drank too much and ended up not feeling great. you asked bill if you could go back to his room and he said sure and handed you a key card. you went back to the hotel but couldn’t quite remember what room number he said. you scanned a couple rooms until one of them finally opened. someone comes into the room, but it isn’t who you are expecting.
warnings - mentions of drinking, just fluff ♡
english isnt my first language, I learned at 10 so please go easy on me lol
~
I stumbled down the hallway, holding my heels in my hand. my head was throbbing and I felt so sick. I had one too many at the bar. thankfully, my bestfriend gave me the key to his hotel room so I could go rest. if I hadn’t stopped drinking, I probably would’ve thrown up on someone’s shoes.
yuck.
I got to the few doors I had narrowed it down to a few doors. bill had told me which room it was, but to be honest, I could barely hear him over the loud music. he had two keycards in his hand and he didn’t seem like he knew which was which. I walked up to the first door and put the card against the little sensor on the door. red light. fuck.
next door. red light. fuck again. I knew if I kept scanning the card on random doors it would eventually deactivate. I held my breath as I scanned it against another door.
green light! my luck was finally turning around. I pushed through the door and let it shut behind me. I dropped my heels and sighed as I made my way to the bathroom. I slipped off my tight dress that was pressing way too hard on my stomach. I looked at myself in the mirror. My makeup was smudged and my hair was messy. I walked back into the room and looked around for a suit case. I found a duffel bag beside the bed. My vision was blurry, I could barely see what I was looking through. After looking for a minute or two, I found pajama pants and a random white tee shirt. It didn’t really look like something Bill would wear, but I didn’t think too much of it. I also thought Bill wouldn’t mind if I took a pair of his pajamas, seeing as he borrowed my clothes all the time. I went back into the bathroom, washed my face, let my hair down, and used the mouth wash that was on the counter. I obviously wasn’t going to use his toothbrush, but I wanted my teeth to at least be a little clean. I grabbed my clothes and put them in a small pile on the floor before flopping onto the bed. I got under the sheets. I noticed that the bed didn’t really smell how Bill’s normally did. I was too tired to care. I fell asleep within minutes.
~
“shh, c’mon.”, a girl giggled.
“okay, okay, I’m coming.”, a guy responded. The hotel door shut.
“Um… who is that in your bed?”
“Oh shit. Bill gave her the wrong fucking key.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fuck, nothing, you just need to leave.”
“What?? Why?”
“We can’t do anything tonight, sorry.”
“Just kick her out?!? Do you even know her?”
“Hey, i said get the fuck out, so leave!”, he whisper yelled.
“Whatever, so fucking weird.”
The hotel door shut again.
My eyes were still closed and I was still partially asleep, but I had heard part of the encounter. I lifted my head out of the pillow it had been resting on, eyes still shut and brows furrowed.
“Bill? Should I leave? You can bring her back. Im sorry, Bill.”, i sleepily and drunkenly rambled. I heard footsteps quickly make their way over to me. A soft hand gently pushed my face back down onto the pillow and shushed me.
“No, no, it’s okay. Just go back to sleep, it’s okay.”, he comforted me.
“Okay, im sorry Bill. I just felt so bad. I also borrowed your pajamas, i dont think I’ve ever seen this pair before, they’re comfy.”, i sleepily mumbled as his hand caressed my cheek.
“it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.”
“can you sleep with me? I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
there was no answer for a minute. I didn’t take much notice as I had my eyes closed and was on the brink of falling back asleep.
“okay.”
I listened as I heard him change into different clothes and brush his teeth. I felt the bed shift under his weight as he laid down next to me.
my eyes fluttered open for a split second, and I could somewhat tell that he was on top of the covers.
“you can get under the covers.”, I murmured.
it took a second, but he got under the covers next to me. I could feel his warmth, it was comforting.
I turned over and scooted myself closer to him, my head next to his chest. I wrapped my arm around him. Bill and I had been friends forever, and we were rather affectionate, in a purely platonic way.
“Goodnight.”, i whispered as i went to pet his hair. I immediately took my hand back and opened my eyes narrowly. I looked up and realized the man next to me was not in-fact Bill. It was Tom. I put the dots together. Bill gave me the key for Tom’s room on accident. I was wearing Tom’s clothes. I accidentally had Tom miss out on a fuck, one of the many things he was notorious for. I was surprised he wasn’t mad at me for ruining his night.
“Tom?”, i asked groggily. My arm still draped over him, but I was no longer touching his hair. His expression was soft, almost worried. His eyes searched mine for any discomfort.
“Is this okay?”, he asked quietly. I thought for a moment. I was always good friends with Tom, but there was always a sort of tension between us. Something that kept us from being able to do things like hug or stuff like that. We used to do it all the time when we were younger, but now? Never. Usually, I would barely touch Tom. We joked around and talked all the time. He probably knew me just as well as Bill knew me. I didn’t expect him to kick out his date for my sick-ass, though. This was new for me. But I liked it. I liked being this close to him, it felt nice.
I nodded.
“Are you okay?”, i asked, mainly referring to the fact I was right up on him. A very small smiled formed on his face as he nodded his head, gazing down at me.
I mumbled an okay before snuggling my head into his chest. I wondered why he was letting me do this. This wasn’t us. I wasn’t complaining, just a little confused. I took a breath in and immediately recognized that the smell from the bed was Tom’s smell. I just never got too close to him so I didn’t know. He snaked his hand around my waist and pulled me a little closer. I breathed in quickly, surprised by his little maneuver. His hand made slow circles on the small of my back.
“Are you feeling any better?”, he whispered. I didn’t even know that he knew I had left because I felt sick, let alone care.
“I am now.”, i replied, muffled into his shirt.
“Good.”
I couldn’t help but smile. He continued to rub my back until I fell asleep in his arms.
~
I sat up quicker than I ever had before. I gasped for air and opened my eyes. I started to catch my breath. I felt Tom sit up next to me, his hand on my back.
“Are you okay?? Are you sick again?”, he asked, concerned.
“No…no… bad dream… I had a really bad fucking dream.”, i said in between breaths. I held my face in my hands, feeling more embarrassed than ever. First I showed up in his room, ruined his one-night stand, and now i woke him up because of my stupid nightmare.
“I’m so sorry. I ruined your night, I should leave.”, i mumbled. I wanted to leave so he couldn’t see my face. I was so upset at myself. I began to overthink every single thing that had happened.
“What? No. Don’t go. Its way too late. How do you think you ruined my night?”, he moved himself closer to me. I felt embarrassed having to explain to him, but it didn’t seem like there was much of another choice.
“I came into your room, I made your date leave, I mean I stole your fucking pajamas, I probably forced you into sleeping next to me, we literally never touch so why now, and I just woke you up. I feel so stupid, I’m sorry.”, I apologized again. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making me so emotional.
“No, no, no. Its okay, i wasn’t that into her anyways. You can keep the pajamas, i dont really care. And I wanted to sleep with you, I wanted to touch you. I do want to touch you, I just get… shit, how do I say this? Fuck it, i get nervous, okay? It has nothing to do with me not wanting to touch you, trust me, i do. And Bill has told me about your nightmares before, it’s okay. Its not your fault. You are just still drunk and overthinking things. I want you here, so just lay back down. It’ll be okay.”, Tom responded, very lightly pushing me to lay back down. I resisted at first but very quickly gave into his warm touch. I was instantly reassured by his words, even though part of me still remained unsure. I turned onto my side, away from him. He positioned himself right behind me, practically spooning me. He started to run his fingers through my hair. It was quiet for a couple minutes, just peaceful. I felt okay.
“do you still like this?”, Tom whispered.
“Hm?”
“Dont you remember? When we were kids and you would sleepover, most of the time you couldn’t fall asleep, so I would play with your hair until you did.”
“Oh, I hadn’t remembered until you reminded me. To be fair, you’re a rockstar now. You have different priorities, like the band and girls. I’ve read the articles and seen the pictures. We don’t hangout too much anymore.”, i laughed a tiny bit into the pillow. He kept stroking my hair, but he didn’t say anything. It made me nervous. Did I cross a line or something?
“You’re right. My life has changed. A lot. But I’m still me, and you’re still you. We are still the kids we used to be, even though I may not seem like it because of the way everyone views me. As long as that’s true, you’ll always be in my life, same with Bill’s.”
“Why are you so sweet, Tom? I kind of thought you weren’t based on your whole “womanizer” persona.”
“That’s how everyone sees me, so I figure why not live up to their expectations. It’s different with you. You actually know me for me. Not the me from the tabloids”
He pushed his arm underneath me and pulled me back, flush to him. His other hand, still playing with my hair. I felt so relaxed, but somehow still a little nervous, being this close to him.
“It’s late, you should go back to sleep. You’re okay, you aren’t going to have anymore nightmares or anything. I’m right here. If you need anything, you can wake up and tell me, i wont be upset.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Goodnight, Tom.”
“Goodnight.”, he quietly replied.
I felt myself completely ease into his hold, and melt into his touch as he pushed his fingers through my hair, just like he did when we were kids. I was glad that I knew this version of him. His genuine, sweet, self. I knew things would probably go back to the way they were in the morning, so I savored everything second that I got to be with him. I forgot about my embarrassment and let myself fall asleep in his arms.
I wished we could stay like that forever.
~
a/n ~ first thing I’m writing on tumblr!! not rlly sure how this all works but if you read I hope you enjoyed !! more to come <3
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vampwritesstuff · 11 months
Text
TMNT Brothers when Reader is on her Period
I’m totally not writing this because I’m on mine rn 💀 Also, I’ve got a few requests and I swear I will work on them! I jst have a motivation issue and it sucks, but if you would like to see more of my work you can checkout my Multi-Fandom Masterlist ! (I swear I’ll attempt to make a masterlist for each fandom separately, but we’ll see if I can actually do it lol)
Type: Headcannons
Request?: not a request
TMNT Version: Unspecified, fits for most versions
CW: obviously, mentions of blood and talk of female bodily functions, reader is AFAB
LEO
Man, this guy is oblivious as hell, he doesn’t realize you’re on your period until he sees you in the lair with a heating pad on your abdomen.
Then he feels stupid because it was so obvious you had started.
He thinks he should’ve known as soon as you started becoming more emotional.
Will 100% get you any craving you want, within reason. He’s not gonna let you eat something that’s gonna upset your stomach later.
Is down to just cuddle and watch TV together.
Doesn’t care how much his brothers tease him, he’ll be constantly worried about you.
“Do you guys think she’s alright without me there?” *insert a collective “SHUT UP LEO”*
He knows that your cramps can get crazy bad, but you guys figured out that if he laid his head on your abdomen, the pain was somewhat relieved.
Low key gets sad when you get annoyed with him, he knows you don’t mean to and it’s just the hormones, but he still manages to feel like a kicked puppy when it happens.
RAPH
Doesn’t act like he notices, but he does.
He notices hardcore.
He notices the way you’re walking to the kitchen so sluggishly, with a hand on your abdomen and your face scrunched into a look of discomfort at every movement.
He notices the weird period cravings and actually makes an effort to memorize the ones you like so that he can get more for you.
You get a lot more moody on your period so you’re constantly sassing Raph and he has to remind himself that it’s just your hormones talking.
Secretly restocks your dwindling stash of chocolate.
You don’t notice it though until you catch him in the act.
Acts like doesn’t know what you are talking about and claims he’s only replacing some because he ate a few bars.
You definitely know that’s not the case, but you don’t say anything about it.
He’ll hand you a bottle of ibuprofen/advil/midol etc. when he notices the cramps get debilitating. (Literally me)
Acts annoyed when you ask him to carry you around cause you can’t move from your cramps.
He secretly loves it though cause he can hold you and show off his strength.
MIKEY
Innocent boy doesn’t even know what a period is, was hella embarrassed when you explained it to him.
“YOUR BODY DOES WHAT?” someone help this poor boy.
He’s stunned at learning that your period can last up to a week or even longer.
“How do you bleed for that long and not die and it happens every month?!” Has gained hella respect for you.
He probably tried one of those period cramp simulators and it was horrible, Raph made fun of him for a while before you forced Raph and the other brothers to try it too.
They shut their mouths after that, and now Mikey gets to mock Raph’s squeals.
Willingly tries your period cravings, no matter how weird, and he’s ended up liking most of them.
You don’t even have to ask him to cuddle with you, he just does it because he feels so bad that you have to deal with this every month.
Mikey is very empathetic and in tune with your emotional state during your period, cause he’s an emotional boy too.
DONNIE
Only figured out that you were on your period when he made a joke about it.
“Ignore her, it’s probably just her time of the month.” “Actually, it is.” “HUH?”
Bro was so embarrassed and his brothers wouldn’t let him live it down.
He willingly, without you asking, will go buy you feminine products as a sort of apology. (Does that even count as one? He doesn’t know but at least he’s trying?)
Does research on what happens to the female body during menstruation in hopes of providing you some support.
Doesn’t touch his computer for weeks afterwards.
He’s easily flustered, he can’t help it!
Understands that you know your body better than he does, so he doesn’t really try to intervene with what you normally do during this time of month.
Gives you as much space as you want, but is ready to cuddle and watch pirated movies on his laptop as soon as you ask to.
Gets really happy when he sees you using the microwaveable lavender scented rice stuffed animal he got for you (if ykyk)
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cinnamonest · 3 months
Note
Lena thank you for the spanking bit, has to be one of fav kinks ever because it just... fits every single yan regardless of who they are??? Kinda like a "universal" thing, just top notch. Do you think we could ever get headcanons for it?
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Thank you for this anon, you're absolutely correct it is a top-tier kink
Also I've been wanting to write more about god-era Morax so thank you for the opportunity to do so, I rambled way more about him than the others here sorry lol
As for those who fit the kink best imo I’m going with Childe, Diluc, Ayato and Morax
//major spanking kink material (obviously) but gets kinda bad in severity/intensity, also mentions of hair-pulling, biting, throat fucking, anal, two cocks for Morax again (as always 👌)
--------
Childe is probably the best one here to end up at the mercy of here for once, for the sake of your poor ass at least.
Not that it isn't still awful and painful — he’s a sadist at heart and just adores making you squeal and cry. What at least makes it comparatively at least bearable is that he tends to use his hand — although that does make it more personable, more humiliating.
He tells you, though, exactly what he intends to do. You're being such a little brat today… come over here…
He doesn't even seem angry, but rather excited. He's all smiley and cooing in a way that feels so utterly humiliating and degrading.
Oh, but please do run. Please, please make it so much more fun for him, run away and try to hide. There's virtually nothing in the world that turns him on as much as either a game of chasing you or hunting you down wherever you're hiding. The fact that you're that scared of getting your ass beaten is kind of cute, actually. Are you that sensitive to pain, or is it more protecting your pride that gives you so much resistance? Not that he's complaining or anything.
He'll even give you a very wide opportunity to run, make sure you have plenty of avenues to do so. His heart rate begins to go up seeing the look of realization in your eyes when you spot an opening to run off, and he'll give you a minute or two of a head start. It doesn't take him long to find you nonetheless, hauling you up over his shoulders and carrying you back to your room with obvious excitement, like a predator dragging squealing, still-living prey back to its den for its inevitable fate.
That being said, doing that will make it worse for you — at that point you probably do deserve a belt at least, you know? Regardless of the instrument of choice though, he keeps you bent over his knee — he can feel your squirming more that way, and he can grind his hard-on into your stomach as you thrash around and squeal. Each strike still lands on bare skin, but rather than having your lower half naked, he likes to sometimes move the hold on your back and grasp at the waistband of your panties instead, jerking them up to wedge between your cheeks, effectively holding you in place and baring your skin at the same time.
He's so mean about it, taunts you that same voice you hate so much—
Aw, are you actually crying? Maybe I'll stop if you beg for something else…
There's no set number or standard of how much you'll be punished for any particular offense, which can be more torturous than anything. At least if you were given a number, you'd know how much more you had to endure. Instead, you just lurch and squeal each time his hand or the leather comes down... you kick your legs and thrash about, to no avail. In fact, you're pretty sure it just makes him hornier, you feel his cock twitch and his breathing grow more ragged the louder you cry out, and his hand on your back forces you down harder.
He’s actually totally shameless about getting off to it, too, so you can’t use that against him.
God, you're so cute when you cry like that... squeal louder for me...
The only real upside is that it's usually abruptly cut off at some point once he's too aroused by it to continue, and needs to just bury himself into your holes. You get slid off his lap onto the couch or bed, barely getting any time to recover — still sniffling and whimpering— before being contorted to whatever position he wants and rammed into without warning… thus for once, him being perpetually horny and having virtually no self-control actually becomes a positive. It still doesn't help, though, that the sex makes his hips smack against your sore ass with each thrust, but crying out about that only makes him go harder.
You know it could be much much worse — he makes sure to remind you that he could easily keep going until you completely break down, but he's so nice and you should be grateful for that — but you're still sore, and it leaves a pinkish-reddish tint under your natural flesh tone — something he likes to point out to you later, groping at your ass and laughing when you jolt at the sting. Your nose wrinkled with your expression of disgust as you jerk your head away from him, and you mutter under your breath.
Bastard...
And then, you squeal and lurch forward as one more harsh smack lands on your backside. You try to ignore the chuckling that follows as your eyes well up with embarrassed tears, and you bury your face beneath the covers of the bed.
-------
Diluc’s punishments are awful in terms of pain, but thankfully they're over fairly quickly because it's largely an act of momentary fury and irritation, and once he gets that anger out of his system, the punishment will be over, too.
He's still very intimidating about it, and it doesn't help that it's always a sort of spontaneous thing he decides on in the heat of the moment — thus you see the exact moment you know you've crossed a line, but also know (or at least, quickly learn) that there's nothing you can say or do at that point that will get you out of being punished. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers and he tells you to get over here in a voice that makes you feel like your heart just stopped, and your stomach feels as if it twists into a knot when you see the confirmation of your dread when he takes his belt off.
Running is not advisable — it's not like you'll succeed, and you'll just make him more mad. He's rough with how he handles you, dragging you by your clothes and hair over to bed, counter, or the back of a couch, forcing your head down.
How bad any one particular spanking is varies a lot depending on how mad you've succeeded in making him. He's not merciful at all, so he hits with force based on the level of his frustration. Thus, your attitude is important — you can technically commit a lesser offense, but if you keep backtalking and being bratty and fighting it, you'll likely get a worse punishment than you would for a worse offense for which you were apologetic and submitted to punishment easily.
What does change with the severity of your offense is that if what you didn't isn't so bad, you can keep your clothes on, but for particularly egregious transgressions, even in spite of the heat of the moment, unfortunately, he doesn't forget to pull your clothes up or down and off to make sure you're bared first.
He virtually always uses a belt, much to your dismay, and prefers to bend you over various surfaces since he can strike harder that way. It’s painful, you always end up in tears quickly, begging and pleading and spilling apologies for whatever you did, but he never has any mercy on you.
Much like you can’t get out of it to begin with, there’s also nothing you can do that will make it end any sooner than he feels like it. Over and over, grumbling with each strike about how you’re such a brat, how you can’t just behave, how it’s your own fault, until your flesh is reddened and burning badly enough that even when it’s over, all you can do is slump forward and cry.
If he went really hard on you, he might feel a little bad afterwards, getting you a wet cloth to soothe the burn… but he’ll still remind you that you wouldn’t be lying there all shivering and sobbing if you just learned to behave yourself properly.
For him, it’s more of an actual punishment first and foremost and not really an intentionally erotic thing, at first he’s too mad to think much about the eroticism of it… but seeing you lying there sniffling with your butt so heavily marked and welting, admittedly he does quickly get hard… and he’ll get incredibly flustered and embarrassed if you accuse him of getting off to it.
But be careful — push him too much on that matter, and such antagonism might be grounds for a round two on your already-stinging ass.
-------
Ayato’s punishments are particularly unpleasant, but the thing is that if you're in that situation, you deliberately chose it. Because he's gracious enough that you get a lot of warnings before reaching that point.
If you're being bratty, temperamental, rude, or whatever other behavior he doesn't like, you get a certain look first. The standard half-lidded eyes, unpleased expression, the universal ‘stop that right now’ glare. Maybe a passive aggressive comment if he can slide one into conversation.
If that fails — in other words, if you keep being a brat regardless, deliberately ignoring his warnings — you then get a verbal warning. He'll address you directly if it's just the two of you, but gods forbid you’re digging your own grave by misbehaving in front of others, he waits for a moment where everyone else's attention is on something else before pulling you close in a faux gesture of affection (with a grip harsh enough to ensure you get the message but not enough to alert anyone else in the room to his quiet fury), lowering his voice, whispering directly into your ear.
We’re going to have a talk about your behavior when this is over. Do you understand?
You know by now what a "talk" actually means, and hearing the words makes you stiffen and swallow. Granted, by the time it reaches the point that you've been that bad, you won't escape without at least a few swats, but if you persist, you'll just make it much worse. All you can do is nod your head and wait in dreadful anticipation.
As soon as the company you had leaves, you try to slowly back away, looking for an opening to run, but he has you grabbed by your clothes or hair and is dragging you off before you can even try. The total silence on his end as he drags you over to your room only serves to amplify your dread, and thereby your little whimpering protests.
The primary thing that will make it that much worse is what he uses to punish you, because from the day he brought you home, he anticipated a need for discipline at some point, and thus had a whipping cane custom-made just for you. One of those thin wooden canes designed for no other purpose than infliction of pain and punishment, which he leaves sitting out in your bedroom at all times, making sure it's always within sight as a subtle threat, a reminder of his power over you and that your behaviors have consequences.
He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t get heated, yet somehow that makes it so much worse. He’s perfectly calm as he holds you down on his lap, a hand wrapped into and grasping your clothes on your back to ensure you’re not going anywhere with each sharp pain on your bare skin. He’s very disciplinarian about it, ensuring to emphasize the reason and intention of the punishment itself—
Remember that you had every option of avoiding this. This is only the consequence you deserve. Do you realize that?
You nod and whimper and try to apologize, but it doesn’t make each swat any lighter. He’s rather harsh about the severity too, the degree of pain, duration, number of swats and outright humiliation often feel disproportionate to what is in your opinion a mild offense, although you know better than to voice that thought.
You beg, sure, you cry and whimper and say you'll take any other punishment, but it goes in one ear and out the other, your words have no effect, and while his voice has that characteristic gentleness to it, he's still cold and firm in his reply, if he even gives you one.
You're not getting out of this. Hold still.
He does take care of you afterwards, so lovingly and gently it makes you angry. He reminds you again that it wouldn't have to happen if you behaved, that you have no one but yourself to blame, all while kissing your crying face, holding you close and gently massaging the newly formed welts.
He also likes to make you gauge how many lashes you deserve beforehand, often making the total number a certain multiple of how many times you mouthed off or did something against your rules. And of course, whenever there's a fixed number, he makes you count.
Listening to your voice grow more and more shaky and begin to crack, your speech becoming slurred with sobs and oh, how precious is the sudden panic in your voice when you realize you've lost count. The way you tense and start begging and whimpering when he replies—
I suppose we'll have to start over...
-------
Morax’s punishments are always by far the worst.
That's largely because there's a maddening element of psychological torment involved. It's slow, drawn out, the dread and anticipation are almost worse than the punishment itself. He actually employs a variety of corporeal punishments, each of which make your stomach churn just to think about, but unfortunately, putting you over his knee and beating your ass until there's a deep red hue to your skin is a personal favorite of his.
What makes his style of discipline so unbearable is that you’ll be punished for literally anything. There is no possible offense, no rule to be broken, that won’t earn corporeal punishment of some kind, most usually on your poor ass. You get a very clear set of rules, rules you’re expected to know and obey from day one. Countless little rules, so many of them meticulous and pointless. Things you must do, things you must not do, and rigid standards for your attitudes and behaviors.
Each and every violation is its own offense — not to mention, things like lying when asked about what you did, objecting to punishments, even talking back or trying to defend yourself when accused count as individual offenses too. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’ve broken a rule until he tells you you’re going to be punished for it, and any protest or whining counts as another offense.
Really, you’re lucky if you can go a few days in a row fully able to sit without any stinging pain, and it’s not uncommon for you to earn back-to-back punishments one day after another. You know for a fact that your record of days in a row without ending up laying in bed, whimpering and crying and clutching your backside in pain is a single digit number.
Sometimes, if it’s severe enough, you’ll get put over his knee right then and there, but he’ll also tally up the small offenses and, at the end of the day, punish you cumulatively for every small offense you’ve made, because he can’t allow even the slightest offense to go unpunished.
It’s not limited to things you do in his presence either, because he has ways of finding out everything you do.
Every day that you can't accompany him, he has an established routine for when he returns. Firstly, of course, you're supposed to greet him when he comes in (any attempts to be petulant by giving him silent treatment or hiding away will result in further punishments), but then, as he sits you down, holds you close, he asks you the same question.
Have you done anything you should not have today?
It's a torturous question.
On one hand, you could have very well been very well-behaved, in which case you can answer honestly with at least some confidence (although even then, part of you hesitates thinking maybe you committed some offense unintentionally).
But when you haven't been well-behaved and you know it — that's what's torturous.
It's a gamble. He asks every single day, so him asking itself is not a dead giveaway that he knows what you did. If he doesn't know — well, you might be able to lie and get away with it. Inversely, how unfortunate would it be if you told him, and it turned out he didn't know, and then you had to suffer when you could have gotten away with it?
On the flip side, if he does know — well, you'll soon be squealing like a stuck pig regardless, but things are much, much worse if you try to lie. You would know — you've taken that gamble a few times now and lost.
He seems to have ways of finding out everything — you only lied when you were absolutely confident, thinking there was no way anyone saw the thing you did, only for your stomach to lurch when you feel the soft stroking against your thigh stop, and are met with a low voice—
…Is that so?
And the tone, the way he says it, you immediately know you've messed up.
Of course, you could hypothetically keep denying it, but entrenching yourself further in a lie is, by that point, the worst decision you could make — you would know, you tried that once and you couldn't sit down normally for over a week. The best thing to do now is to confess… you won’t get any mercy or a lighter punishment, but you’ll avoid the additional punishment you’d get for doing anything else.
But even then, he can’t even give you the decency of forcing your body to bend and getting it over with. It has to be drawn out, torturing you to the greatest degree possible — sometimes, he does this by delaying it, telling you he has something else to do first, leaving you to sit around and wait in anticipation for an hour or more. If an offense is bad enough, one session might not even be enough, and you're told that you'll get another one tomorrow, adding to your dread.
But most of the time, the torment comes from forcing your own participation. He keeps you firmly in his lap, reaching down to grope at the flesh where your butt meets your thighs.
What do you think you deserve to have happen to you?
Another test, a question for which you’ll only receive something worse in addition to whatever will happen already if answered incorrectly. There’s only one right answer—
…Y-you should... punish me...
On the bright side, he’s genuinely pleased once you start learning well enough to know what the right answer is.
You’re stood up, guided over to the drawers, hands firmly on your shoulders to ensure you don’t get any ideas about running. You hate that one drawer, it makes your stomach churn just to look at. He has a damn collection for you— leather straps, whipping canes, paddles with holes in them just to hurt that much more. He tells you to pick one.
That, too, is a test— you know which ones hurt more. You're supposed to gauge what you deserve based on the severity of your offense, and he'll be that much more displeased if you go too lightly on yourself, and will consequently be more forceful, which you do not want. Eventually, you manage to make your choice, biting your lip, pointing with a shaky hand, tensing as his hand runs motions that would be soothing in any other context up and down your thigh, pausing to grasp at the fleshy part of your backside.
Then you're led back— sometimes to face the wall or bend over a counter, but most often he prefers to keep you over his lap. Not that you'll be forced down either— not unless you make that necessary, which of course, you do not want. Unless you want it to be that much worse, you follow the commands— pull your robes up, the waistband of any underwear down, bare your skin (always, no matter how mild the offense), lay down on your stomach, put your hands behind your back so he can grasp your wrists.
And even then, even then you have to be tormented further.
Now, what did you do to deserve this?
You recall to the best of your ability, hoping you didn't forget anything, lest you be accused of trying to be deceitful in hopes of escaping consequences, which will add another tally to the list.
It’s painful. It always is. You've reached a point where your resolve to not cry and squeal is defeated pretty early. You used to try your best not to for the sake of your pride, but you know by now that it will go on long enough that your tears and crying out are inevitable.
He manages to somehow be so stoic and calm and yet somehow so, so cruel about it.
Does it hurt?
Your shoulders quiver with little sobs, you go tense as he gropes and kneads at the raw flesh.
Y-yes, it hurts, it hurts so bad, please no more, please—
You cut off with a high-pitched cry as the stinging pain strikes again. And again. And again. It's always so much, so unfair compared to the weight of whatever you did. That slight pinkish undertone isn't quite satisfying enough either, he never stops until there's a deep, deep red tone to your flesh.
If you've been especially bad, you may have to count… but he actually tends to prefer not giving you a set number. You're more fearful that way, uncertain of how much more you have to endure.
You're certain he gets off on the pain for one thing, the sound of your cries and the way you jolt and squirm, but the humiliation is worse than the pain itself, for you. He knows that, revels in it. He's told you before—
You're such a prideful little thing… that will certainly need to be fixed.
Repetitive subjection to something so inherently humiliating and vulnerable, and being made to break down, any semblance of toughness and dignity being torn away at his hands, is a way of slowly breaking down your pride. You know that, it makes you so angry, but you can't help but let that vulnerability be exposed every time, to act in such a way that ensures he knows how badly it humiliates you.
Your go limp with exhaustion when it finally stops.
What have you learned?
You can barely speak, voice hoarse from the strain of your cries and speech muffled by sniffles and sobs.
I'm sorry… I won't do it again…
And then, he has the audacity to be so, so sweet to you. Looking down at your tear-streaked face, smiling— no, smirking, a belittling, amused expression— leaning down to kiss your forehead.
Poor thing.
Kneading at the sore flesh in spite of how the touch makes you wince. As if it isn't his fault, as if he had any mercy on you the whole time you were begging for it to stop.
It only makes you angrier. More than once now, you've earned a second round for how you reacted to his undeserved kindness. So ungrateful.
It's never a solitary punishment either, always coupled with something else, always something equally humiliating and discomforting, if not painful. You know he gets off to it, because the second punishment is almost always a direct sex act of some kind.
You'll take his cocks down your throat, grabbing your skull and fucking your face without any restraint, forcing you to swallow every last drop of seed, even forcing your head down to lick up whatever you spill off the floor. Your saliva just provides the lube to force you to bed and fuck you until you can't even stand, and all the while his hips bounce off your poor ass, each movement stinging against the sensitive flesh. He'll bite your flesh, unnaturally sharp teeth even piercing you skin, leaving you covered in marks. If he's feeling really, really mean, you don't even get the semblance of pleasure of it ramming into your poor sore, raw pussy— you'll take both cocks into your tight little ass instead, a stretch that makes you squeal and thrash and cry. Your legs kick and you lurch forward, desperate to pull yourself off, but you're jerked back with a growl as he slams into you, completely bottoming out. Eventually, you give in as the stretching pain ebbs away and trying to take whatever pleasure you can from the faint stimulation to spots of pleasure through the walls of flesh. But the act is utterly humiliating nonetheless, your hole left twitching and gaping for hours as cum leaks out and onto your skin. You can't even sit for days, both your poor asshole and backside sore and tender.
Your embarrassment and resentment builds. You loathe him for it, feel so humiliated and angry at yourself and how deeply you dread the punishments that it makes you nauseous.
And thus, in one particular incident, fed up and filled with spite, you made the greatest mistake of your entire time trapped with him— you decided to run, seeing that for once you had an opening to do so.
A stupid choice, really. You don't get far. Not even a full ten steps.
You know immediately that you have severely, sincerely fucked up. The sheer harshness with which you're grabbed, the back of your clothes grasped and twisted with unprecedented force, the draconic growl to his voice that makes your blood run cold.
Oh, dearest, you have no idea how badly you've just stepped out of line.
His other hand latches onto your throat.
You're going to be sleeping on your stomach for quite some time, won't you?
The statement alone makes tears well in your eyes, any bitter pride quickly crushed. You shake your head profusely, start begging for forgiveness, but you know in your heart that it's far too late for that… it still doesn't stop you from whimpering and apologizing as you're dragged back down the hall, no doubt to one of the worst punishments you've endured yet.
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froggibus · 10 months
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Would They Wear A Friendship Bracelet? - Scaramouche, Xiao, Kazuha, Childe, Diluc & Itto
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Includes: Scaramouche/Wanderer, Xiao, Kazuha, Childe, Diluc and Itto
Genre: fluff, could be considered crack
Summary: how they would react to receiving a friendship bracelet + would they wear it
CW: Scara is a brat, Xiao is a trog, general fluff and cuteness all around, some characters may be a lil OOC, (spoiler) of course they’re gonna wear it forever
i thought this was a cute idea and given ive been on a bit of a bracelet making kick, this happened lol. my first time writing any of these characters so im sorry if the lore is messy or they're ooc <3
————
Scaramouche/Wanderer:
looks at the bundle of navy, gold and red string in disgust
“you expect me to wear this? tsk, another one of your menial childish crafts.”
lowkey hurts your feelings
like you know he’s the most tsundere mf on the entire planet but sometimes he just goes too far 
you avoid him for the rest of the day after that
of course the minute you leave he’s tying it to his wrist 
he will never take it off either. it’s now his most prized possession 
next time you see him, you’re still a little upset about how he reacted
until he’s talking about something completely unrelated and you notice him fidgeting with something on his wrist
he’s running his fingers across it, an action that brings him comfort (and reminds him that no matter what he’s done, you still care about him)
never mention it to him tho or else he’ll pretend like he’s doing it just to appease you
Xiao:
his cheeks are instantly red
“you—you’re gifting this to me? to do what?”
looks at you in utter fascination while you explain what it is 
he adores the idea of carrying a physical object to commemorate your relationship 
his hand is probably shaking when you gently grab him to tie the bracelet around his wrist 
and of course his face erupts into an inferno
he’s never been handled with so much care before, and the sight of you tying a symbol of your affection into him is enough to make his heart race
you pull away with a smile, “there you go. you can always take it off if it bugs you or you don’t like it.”
he shakes his head
he’s never taking it off
he’ll probably find some sort of adepti magic to bind it to him so he’ll never lose or break it 
on long night when he misses you, he finds himself playing with the strings and thinking of you
Kazuha:
his eyes are practically sparkling when you present it to him 
“it’s wonderful, my love. like falling leaves in the autumn sunlight”
a little hesitant to put it on at first 
he’s just worried he’ll lose it during all of the adventuring he does
you’re a little sad when you see he’s not wearing it tho
and of course he loves you so much and all he wants is for you to be happy 
he offers you a gentle smile and asks if you’ll help him put it on since he totally can’t do it himself 
obviously you happily oblige and tie it to his wrist with the biggest smile
he spends a solid five minutes admiring it
kinda weird but also feel like he would kiss it?? 
whenever he’s away on long journeys, he always has you close 
and whenever he misses you, he stares at that symbol of your love and remembers that you’re out there waiting for him
Childe:
definitely not the first one he’s received 
teucer has almost definitely made him some before 
of course, yours is a little different 
“I love it, babe”
wears it EVERYWHERE
like this Fatui harbinger is always wearing this adorable little string bracelet 
you’d think it would take away from his reputation but people are equally as afraid of him 
he can’t just let you give him such a thoughtful gift without giving anything in return 
 so he sets out to make you your own bracelet 
honestly it’s really rough
his hands aren’t made for arts and crafts 
but even if it is slightly misshapen and filled with holes, you accept it happily 
the thought that he sat down and spent time trying to make it for you is enough to make you tear up
he ties it to your wrist and plants a kiss over the bracelet 
“there, now we match”
Diluc:
honestly you’re a little worried giving it to him
it feels stupid and dorky and he’s always dressed to the nines 
but as soon as he sees it, his face lights up
“you made this for me?”
you shift from side to side and awkwardly look at the floor. “yes…”
“thank you, darling. care to help me put it on?”
all of your worries melt away though
this man loves you to the point he would practically do anything to you
and seeing how cute and nervous you were giving him something you handmade just for him?
it’s enough to make him melt 
he examines the bracelet in the light, nodding at your handiwork 
he’ll always have it on him one way or another
whether it’s on his wrist, or in his hair, or attached to his keys or hidden somewhere when he’s the Darknight Hero
but it’s with him no matter what, just like you <3
Itto:
he cries 
like actually cries when you give it to him
he’s seen other people exchanging them, especially as a kid, and always wanted one
but of course as an oni, resigned himself to a friendship bracelet-less life
“f-for me?”
he has that cute pouty look on his face and full on sobs when you nod at him with that big smile on your face 
stops crying long enough to attempt to put it on
struggles tho cause his big ass hands aren’t meant for delicate things like that
so he sheepishly asks for your help
he is never going to take the bracelet off
like ever
probably cuddles with his wrist at night just to have it close 
(also probably loses it a million times without even realizing it—but don’t worry, Shinobu is there every time to pick it back up and sneak it into his pocket)
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