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orionhelluvaranting · 3 months ago

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Okay, now let's talk about smth positive, shall we?

Mammella! (or Golden Goose if you wish)💰🦢

Recently I think about them a lot. It's like a brainrot and I can't help it! They're just perfect together 💕 So today I wanna talk about them. Sorry, I've cloged the entire critical fandom up with them, I hope you're not mad at me for this 🥺👉👈

I've attached the Shipping Chart so it wouldn't be so empty right here 🎪 Credit: divider by @saradika-graphics

What are the cons of this pairing? Well, for starters, they definitely have a lot in common:

extroverts;

over-reactive;

evil but entertaining;

rich and royal, proud to be like this;

repulsion toward 'plebs' and those who are close with them (classistic asses, in short);

enjoying being in the spotlight (probably)?

As you can see they have similar worldviews and life priorities. Great chemistry could be built on this.

Also they seem to suit each other's preferences. From "Mastermind" we've grasped that Mammon likes royal rich women who wouldn't mind going out into town with him (i can see Stella enjoying this kind of activity). And Stella during conversation with her friends complained about Stolass being a boring stiff and having a scrawny twig ass; she clearly doesn't like his imp-fucking tendencies too (it's easy to guess Mammon have none of this).

There is visual compatibility as well. Their bodies are predominantly white which is basically an universal color. And the clothes/aesthetics - green for Mammon and pink for Stella - are complementary.

Besides I think they could bring something unusual into Hellaverse. I'll go from least to most interesting:

1) No twinks 🥢

It's not a secret Vivziepop adores twinks. They're her type or something because ALL of her OTPs (Stol!tzø, F!zzarozz!e, VoxVal, Angelhusk) contain at least one twink. And here we are having a 'woman x chubby man'. There's the beauty in their twinknessless, don't you think? Look, I have nothing against twinks. You're cool, guys, just a bit overrepresented in Hellaverse.

2) Royal x royal 👑

Also Vivziepop loves putting power dynamic into her ships. Stol!tzø, F!zzarozz!e, BeeTex (is that their ship name, right?) are quite obvious examples. Even Lucilith and Chaggie kinda fall into this category too. However, Mammon & Stella aren't like that at all. They were born nobles and would prefer to remain as ones forever. Yes, Mammon is one rank higher but come on, it's such a small difference.

3) Villain couple 🃏

There are a lot of antagonists in Helluva Boss. Almost as many as couples! So it surprises me these two elements haven't crossed paths yet.

4) Uplifting the stakes 🎰

Many peeps in the critical community would likely agree on two things:

Stella is a highly relevant antagonist; essentially, the greatest evil of the (Stol!tzø) story. But she's powerless at all points.

Mammon is a highly powerful antagonist, the most influential, authoritative and rich of all. But he's completely irrelevant for the main cast.

Therefore, if these characters united, they'd complement each other's villainous potential. Mammon - being interested in Stella - would have a better chance of noticing the main characters. And Stella - being under Mammon's protection - could've gained more resources for her revenge on Stolass and the company. Moreover, it would be extremely difficult for them to defeat her.

Finally, I'm gonna list the tropes they match to:

Size difference. It's not that big of the deal (pun is unintended) but I know a lot of people like this sort of stuff;

Celebrity Power Couple (kinda?);

Birds of a Feather;

Unholy Matrimony

That's the potential I see in this couple. However, I know they'll never be canon. It's for the better though! This way they could never be ruined for me.

Anyway...

If you find this pairing interesting then maybe you'd like to visit my main blog. There are a few arts of them. Recently I've posted some suggestive content with a poll so you still have time to vote if you want to.

Thanks for your attention, folks!

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss stella #mammon #stella goetia #mammon x stella #mammella #golden goose #essay #positivity

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little-shiny-sharpies · 2 years ago

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Changed it

#is it mean? I don’t intend it to be but it could be seen as rude.#I’m just sick of it cloging my feed make your own memes #cmon I can’t be the only person willing to put 2 minutes into a shitpost

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call-me-kermit · 1 month ago

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✿Memories & Lessons✿

Hate To Love You Part 4: The Ghoul is curious about the vault she came from, and teaches her how to shoot. Word Count: 2865 Read Time: 15-20 Min Warnings: Mentions of Human Experiments, Sexual Abuse, Guns, Violence, Murder of a Soda Can Rating: M Notes: Not Proofread

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The first thing Cooper felt was the ache in his neck.

He groaned, one eye cracking open against the harsh morning light bleeding through a hole in the wall. He was sitting against the half-rotted frame of what used to be a window, revolver still across his lap. Dust cloged his throat and dried blood on his boot.

How the hell did I fall asleep?

He straightened slowly, bones creaking with the effort, and scanned the inside of the ruined house. Empty bottles littered the floor, the scent of stale liquor hanging in the air. A collapsed couch sagged in the corner, fabric barely clinging to the frame. No movement.

His stomach sank.

No Vaultie.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, the familiar twinge of panic curling in his gut.

He got to his feet in a slow, measured motion, slipping his revolver back into his holster as he stalked across the room. A muscle in his jaw twitched. Rookie mistake, he knew better. Sleep too deeply and you wake up robbed, or dead, or worse.

He stepped outside, eyes scanning the dust-swept front yard and the barren stretch of road beyond it.

And stopped dead.

She was there. Just ten feet from the porch. Squatting beside a makeshift fire pit, poking at something skewered on a stick. Her hair pulled up and out of her way. She looked up at him casually.

“Morning,” she said, her voice a little too cheerful for the circumstances.

He blinked.

She wasn’t tied down. Wasn’t being watched. Wasn’t even looking over her shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was rough, raw from sleep and irritation.

She shrugged and flipped the stick, the sizzling sound of meat hitting the fire accompanying the faint, acrid scent of charred lizard skin.

“You were asleep,” she said simply. “I was hungry.”

He stared at her, then at the fire, then back to her like she was some animal doing a magic trick. She didn’t even seem worried. Like this wasn’t some kind of dangerous game.

“You had the chance to run.”

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze flicking back to the fire as she poked at the meat again, turning it slowly.

“I thought about it,” she admitted, finally. “Figured I could make a break for it. But then I remembered I don’t know the first damn thing about surviving out here. You do.”

He folded his arms, suspicious, “So you’re stickin’ around for survival.”

She gave him a flat look. “Would you rather I lied and said it was your sparkling personality?”

That made him snort, a low, dry laugh that escaped before he could stop it. “Maybe.”

She held out the other stick to him, the charred meat dangling from the end. It was crudely done, burnt on one end and still pink on the other, but it was meat. Cooked meat.

He looked at it like it was a loaded weapon, “You’re offerin’ me food?”

“Well,” she said, leaning back and taking a bite of her own with a casualness that almost unsettled him, “you did save me from being feral food yesterday. Seems fair.”

He hesitated, studying the food in her hand like it might bite back. The idea of fairness didn’t sit well with him. He was the one with the gun. The one with the power. He was the one who should’ve had her on a leash by now, or at the very least, under control. But here she was, no chains, no threats. Just handing him food like they were old friends on a picnic.

He took the stick, grumbling as he sank down onto a rock across from her, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Y’know,” he said between bites, the meat surprisingly tender, “I expected screamin’ and runnin’. Maybe some blubberin’ about humanity and morals.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then met his gaze. “Yeah, well…” She shrugged. “You get over that kinda stuff fast out here.”

Cooper watched her for a moment, his thoughts racing. She was learning. Adapting. Getting smarter, harder. And somehow, she was starting to look at him like he was worth something. Like maybe he wasn’t a monster after all.

The silence stretched, heavy and thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not yet.

“You’re not what I thought you’d be,” he muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She raised an eyebrow, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not surprised. Most people think I’m a lot of things they’re wrong about.”

He glanced up at her then, meeting her gaze directly. There was something there. Something human, and it made his chest tighten. Something about the way she was so matter-of-fact about everything, as if the world hadn’t been broken apart. As if it could still make sense.

The Ghoul grunted, biting into the meat. He’d never been one for long chats. He didn’t know what the hell was going on between them, and it irritated the hell out of him.

“Look,” he said, crossing his legs, “you’re alive cause I decided to keep you around. Don’t get used to it.”

She grinned like she knew something he didn’t, and her gaze didn’t waver. “Whatever you say, Cowboy.”

They ate in silence for a while, the quiet between them only broken by the occasional pop of the fire or the hiss of fat dripping into the coals. The sun had risen high, casting long, jagged shadows over the ruins of the world. Buzzards circled overhead, their dark shapes slicing through the empty sky like vultures waiting for the inevitable.

Eventually, The Ghoul spoke, breaking the stillness.

“So,” he said, chewing slowly, “why’d you leave?”

She blinked at him.

He gestured loosely with the stick in his hand, the charred meat nearly falling off. “The Vault. You had food, water, walls. Musta known the surface was hell. So why crawl out?”

Her whole body stiffened, and her eyes darted away, fixing on the fire like it might save her from the question.

“Does it matter?” she muttered.

He squinted at her. “Sure as hell does. Don’t make sense otherwise. And I hate things that don’t make sense.”

She shook her head and stood up abruptly, brushing ash off her legs like she could scrub the question off her skin. “You wouldn’t care.”

He smirked, a cold, knowing look in his eyes. “Maybe not. But I’m curious.”

She snapped, “You think I’m gonna sit here and tell you all about the horrible shit that happened to me, so you can laugh or make a joke or throw it in my face later? You’re not my friend. You’re barely my travel partner. So don’t go fishing for pain like it’s entertainment.”

He leaned back, still chewing, his eyes following her every movement like a man watching a wounded animal decide if it’s going to bite or run.

But then, that look, something in her eyes that stopped him cold. It was anger, sure, but underneath it: fear. Shame. Grief. Not for someone else. For herself.

Her fingers trembled, just the slightest tremor as she crossed her arms, like she was trying to hold herself together, fighting to stay strong.

He tilted his head, “What kinda experiments they do to you?”

She froze. The wind picked up, catching the edge of her shirt, brushing dust across her face. She didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

He thought for a second she might lunge at him, might bolt like a rabbit in a trap. But she didn’t. She just stood there, staring past him, past the fire, into something he couldn’t see, a place far beyond the broken world around them.

Her voice, when it came, was low. Hollow. “They called it ‘genetic compatibility testing.’ But it wasn’t about curing anything. Or making people better.” A pause. The fire popped in the background, as if the flames themselves couldn’t bear the weight of her words. “They wanted to see how long you could breed the same bloodline before it all fell apart.”

His smirk faltered.

She still didn’t look at him. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself, like she could hold in the memory if she squeezed hard enough.

“They said it was noble. Part of the plan. Something about preserving 'the ideal human genome' after the war. But it wasn’t noble. It was sick. They’d take you from your room, hold you down if needed, and-”

Her voice broke off, her throat constricting. She swallowed hard, trying to force the words out, but they felt like stones.

She turned away from him, as if the words themselves were too much to face him. “I didn’t leave. I escaped.” Her voice was thick, as if the weight of it could suffocate her. She tried hard not to let herself cry in front of him. “Before they could force me to-“

The Ghoul said nothing.

No smart remark. No smug comment. Not even a whistle. He just watched her, his gaze steady, the fire between them casting strange shadows across her face, highlighting the pain she was trying so hard to bury.

He’d seen a lot of things in the Wasteland; torture, horror, freakshow science. But he’d never seen a Vaultie stand in the sunlight with their wounds bleeding out like this. And somehow, for the first time in a long damn while, he didn’t feel amused.

He just felt something like, hell, he didn’t have a name for it. But it stuck with him.

He thought for a long while about his ex-wife, who had given the seal of approval for twisted things like this to happen in the Vaults. He remembered the moment where he heard it from her own mouth, the way her voice had twisted into something he didnt recognize, her morals all bent up in knots.

When had he drifted from the man who left her because of her shit morals? When had he adopted her gray-area thinking? He hated to think. . .

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They hadn’t spoken since she told him.

Not a word as they picked their way through the skeletal remains of the old neighborhood, scavenging what little hadn't already been stripped or rotted into uselessness. He led the way, boots crunching glass and bone-dry leaves, never looking back. She followed, eyes downcast but steps steady, like she was keeping pace with something larger than the rubble underfoot.

The air between them wasn’t cold. It wasn’t even awkward. It was just heavy.

Eventually, they reached a weathered two-story house that hadn't completely collapsed. Cooper kicked in the door, revolver drawn, sweeping the empty hall before jerking his head to the side.

“Check upstairs,” he muttered, finally breaking the silence.

She nodded and obeyed.

The second floor was mostly intact, dusty, choked with cobwebs, but solid. In what was once a child’s bedroom, a faded blue bedframe stood against the wall, its frame warped with time. She pushed aside a moldy comforter, then noticed the loose floorboard beneath.

It took effort, but she pried it up, coughing on the cloud of dust it released.

Underneath: a small metal lockbox. She dragged it out and popped the latch. Inside was a pistol, simple, pre-war. A little rusty, but not beyond saving. Two boxes of ammo were tucked beside it.

She stared at the weapon for a long moment. Fingers brushed over the grip like it might bite her.

Behind her, a creak.

She didn’t turn. Didn’t startle. Just said, “You’ve been standing there a while.”

From the doorway, The Ghoul leaned against the frame, arms crossed. He said nothing. Just watched her.

She finally turned to face him, holding the pistol carefully in both hands. There was no fear in her expression now—only a quiet resolve.

“I want you to teach me.”

His brow arched, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Teach you what?”

She tilted the gun slightly. “How to shoot. How to not die.”

He looked her up and down, assessing. Was this a trick? An attempt to get the drop on him later? He could see the uncertainty in her grip, the way she held the pistol like it might fall apart or blow up in her hand.

Still, her voice didn’t waver.

“I know you’re dangerous,” she said, eyes locked on his, “but I’ve seen what else is out here. You can’t protect me from everything. And you won’t always try.”

A beat passed. Then another.

Maybe it was the quiet grief still sitting behind her words like a ghost. Or the dull shine in her eyes like she hadn’t slept right in weeks. Maybe it was just the fact that she looked at him like he wasn’t some rotting monster.

Like he was still a man.

A bastard. A killer. But not a lost cause.

He pushed off the doorway with a sigh, walking slowly toward her. She didn’t flinch.

“Alright,” he said, taking the gun from her hands with practiced ease. “First thing, this thing’s a piece of shit. Y’Gotta clean it, and hope it still fires without blowing your hand off. After that, we’ll find somethin’ better.”

She blinked, surprised. “So. . . you’ll help?”

He smirked, tucking the pistol into his belt. “I ain’t draggin’ a corpse across the Wastes, Vaultie. You wanna learn how to stay alive, I’ll teach you. But you better keep up.”

She smiled, just barely. “Deal.”

He turned, heading back downstairs without waiting.

“Hope you’re ready to shoot somethin’ uglier than me,” he called back.

“That’s a high bar,” she muttered under her breath, following.

The house had a backyard, if you could call it that. Overgrown weeds swallowed what was once a white picket fence. A rusted swing creaked lazily in the wind, and the skeletal remains of a doghouse sat near the collapsed shed.

The Ghoul walked out first, brushing aside vines with one hand, the pistol in the other. He found a few old cans and bottles scattered along the patio and lined them up on a half-buried bench.

She hovered behind him, arms crossed tight over her chest like she wasn’t sure if she was cold or just nervous.

“You ever held a gun before?” he asked, not turning around.

She hesitated. “No. Vault security had them. We didn’t.”

He let out a breath that was half sigh, half chuckle. “Figures. All that tech, no common sense.”

He turned and handed the pistol to her, gently. She took it, handling it more carefully than before, but still awkward.

“Alright. Lesson one, don’t point that thing at me unless you plan to shoot.”

She looked up at him, her eyes sharp. “Noted.”

He smirked. “Lesson two, hold it like you mean it. Not like it’s a damn sandwich.”

She adjusted her grip. He stepped closer, reached out without asking, and placed his hands over hers. The smell of gun oil and desert dust clung to him.

Her breath hitched, just for a second.

“See?” he said lowly, guiding her hands. “You want your stance tight. Elbows loose. Let it kick back, don’t fight it. You try to muscle it, you’ll break your damn wrist.”

He backed away, letting her settle into position.

“Go on. Take a shot.”

She squinted down the iron sights, inhaled slowly, exhaled like he told her, then fired. The shot rang out, echoing off the empty houses. She missed, badly.

“Goddamn,” The Ghoul laughed. “You tryin’ to scare it to death instead?”

She frowned, adjusting. “First shot doesn’t count.”

“Oh, it counts, sweetheart. It tells me we’ve got our work cut out.”

She fired again. And again. The shots got closer. Not good, but not useless. He didn’t say anything for a while, just watched her jaw set tighter with each trigger pull.

When she finally hit one of the cans, she gasped, shocked more than proud.

“See?” he said, grinning wide. “Not hopeless. Just stubborn.”

She turned toward him, wiping sweat from her brow. “Thanks. I think.”

He walked past her, grabbed the can she hit, “Now hit it again.” then tossed it high up into the air.

She blinked. “What?”

He drew his own revolver, spun it with practiced flair, and shot the can midair. It exploded into shards with a loud ping.

“See? Easy.”

“Show off,” she muttered.

He holstered his gun with a wink. “Damn right.”

She was breathing heavier now, adrenaline still racing in her blood. She looked down at the pistol in her hands, then back at him.

“…Thanks,” she said, quieter this time. “I didn’t think you’d actually help.”

The Ghoul’s expression shifted just slightly. The grin stayed, but there was something subdued in his eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “Still plenty out there waitin’ to kill you.”

“Then I’ll shoot first.”

He barked out a laugh. “That’s the spirit.”

They lingered there a while, the sun starting its descent, the ruined world painted in red and gold. And though he didn’t say it, something in him had shifted too.

He was still planning to sell her, of course he was. But now he was starting to wonder what he’d do if someone actually tried to hurt her before then.

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≪•◦ BACK • NEXT ◦•≫

✿Chapter Index✿

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #fallout ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout x reader #x reader

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kkpup · 4 months ago

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Critter au Dream and his (very valid) fear of storms

ok I really need to think of a name for this-

When he was younger, especially pre-village, storms were a pretty big deal and needed to be taken seriously. Cold, wet, no way to hunt or forage and almost guaranteeing one of them comes out sick or injured without any shelter, storms would have been something they both dreaded.

Nightmare wouldn't have too much of a reaction, his big issue is hearing the thunder, loud noise are already a no-no for him to be fair. It might confuse the gang if he cancels an outing or two over a storm but they would all pass ot off as him just being grumpy about the rain. Fairly normal for anyone, really.

But Dream? Ooooooo boy, they are NOT doing well. While Nightmare had gotten plenty of injuries and issues during particularly bad storms, he always made it back to Nim in time to hide away in the Tree. Dream on the other hand has a very notable memory of the storm when he was 9 years old.

Night wasn’t feeling well and the village wouldn't give him food, so being the good brother they were, they went down to the stream to pick berries (Dream really did just want Night to feel better, thats all he ever wanted) but the rain came down fast and without warning. He was going to leave, he was! But he just had to fill the basket first, it was more important to him, he was just a kid. But the stream became wide, the water rushing in like a river and Dream was swept up in the rapids. He sustained multiple fractures and spent far too much time under the water, but the real issue was with how far he was taken, he got dangerously close to leaving Nim's reach. Neither of them produced their own magic before the apple incident, so leave the Tree's reach would have very well been one of the few things that could kill a guardian.

Obviously that didn't happen and he eventually made it back, but not without developing some serious antlophobia first. He never told Blue what happened but it was pretty noticeable if your friend has a mini panic attack because it rained too hard and cloge the street drains.

More on these little shits later, just wanted to share. Also im not proof reading so eh

#utmv #undertale #ramblings #not art #nightmare sans #headcanon #dream sans #critter au #Really really need a better name #Please #Im begging for suggestions

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contentloadingandstuff · 2 months ago

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No Offense I Do Agree With Them, Your Page Did Start Getting Negative.

You don't say. I can't really understand what's the merit behind this point. Is it my fault? For showing everybody what I was being sent? Alternatively, this is an accusation that I'm being negative. If it's the latter, please prove your point.

Or don't, it won't matter. I'm gonna go back and do some spring cleaning. These replies are just dragging this nonsense out and cloging up the blog - I feel like if I don't draw a thick line between what the page is really about and all this mass hysteria I somehow stirred up, the topic will NEVER end. And this is a writing blog, not an ed blog all of a sudden because I said something once.

But no offense taken. And don't take offense either. I'm just sick of this topic already.

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ask-cccc · 4 months ago

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Who cloged the toilet???

(Huh?)

#cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #the psyche #(artemis speaks)#cccc heart #cj heart

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housano · 2 years ago

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Welcome to the Black Masquerade Character Quests

CW: Live a Hero Spoilers

No pics so I'll just keep it short in sweet because

Nessen

Not too much happens in Nessen's quest. Per usual, he's enjoying the baths and admiring all the details of the interiors and hopes to bring the Cloges craftsmen to his inn to update. Additionally he got into a very deep conversation about Cloges hospitality with the innkeeper. Game recognizes game. He says he feels comfortable talking with us about his passions. He's also learned a lot about himself during this trip. Particularly, he always put the customer first, but has learned he needs to have fun himself.

He then says he wants to convey something to us and asks us to transform him. He then grabs our hands and engages us in a dance. We comment how we thought he couldn't dance, and he says this form helps as his desire to dance with us seems to help him. He removes his mask as a symbolism of finally conveying his true feelings that he enjoys spending time with us and will offer us exceptional hospitality as we dance the night away.

Yohack

Next to our frosted cinnamon roll. He brought us every snack that was available at the festival as he wants us to taste all of Cloges' specialties. We comment how cute he is eating, which embarrasses him. He says how happy he is that he accepted this job as he was finally able to find out what really happened with his parents and know Astosis more than what he presented. Yohack reiterates how even though he was sad to leave, he met his master, who was a locksmith and helped him carve his path forward in life as well as his mantra. He also says that he ate too much and we should burn off the calories and invites us to dance with him.

After a while he say he's hot, but we're cold. So as a solution we both embrace each other and comment how soft and fluffy he is. Yohack says that his race's coat is designed to insulate heats which backfires during the summer months. We thank him which catches him off guard as he doesn't get thanked very often, but he is happy to be super handy to people. We then catch him off guard again by saying that we enjoy spending time with him. Yohack says he feels the same way and if we ever need anything, we can always rely on them. After admiring Luna, we end the quest by falling asleep at each other's side.

Astosis

Seems both MC and LW are hellbent on wanting us to forgive and move so I guess we're speeding up our forgiveness plans early. So side notes, I'm not sure if the translation is off, but it seems MC decided to a bit longer than what was originally thought. Astosis is surprised to see us and asked if we were waiting for them, which we confirm. Seems the townsfolk as well as several townsfolk ripped him a new one for being so reckless. However, given that he acted under extenuating circumstances, he was released with punishment pending. He said that Nessen's idea of him signing to his agency looks like it will come true. He asks he we could join him to the old museum (aka the castle) which he escorts us to.

Pauderna is on display in its full glory. Astosis comments how it feels like a cursed object as it was responsible for both his father's death, Yohack's parents being falsely accused, and learning Chassard's true nature. However, he also said because of this he was able to meet us, who changed everything for the better. He said he doesn't get to express himself like this often as he admits he doesn't have many friends, and it scares him to place his full trust and belief in someone as he always wonders if their hiding something.

He asks us to hold his hand and he says it's difficult for him to convey his thoughts and his fears, before dismissing this and childish and selfish before pulling away his hand. MC ain't having none of that, immediately grabs his hand back and hugs Astosis. We remind Astosis there are other ways to express one's feel. Astosis thanks us by kissing the backing of our hand, hugging us back with his embrace softening as time goes by. We end the quest, dancing with Astosis in the moonlit night with MC taking the lead this time.

So there you have it! We won't see Astosis or Yohack again until the Valentine Special Quests. I'm probably not going to summarize either the Housamo or Live a Hero Christmas events UNLESS Marduk or Pubraseer are on the banner respectively. Then you bet your ass i will have those up in hours.

#live a hero #ラブヒロ #liveahero #lahspoilers #live a hero spoilers

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