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ohproserpine · 4 months

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i. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love

"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"

"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"

“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”

"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"

"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."

Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."

Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."

"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him.

Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~"

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"

Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."

Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."

"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.

Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."

"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."

“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”

Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."

“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”

"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”

Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town.

A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.

It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers."

Charming.

With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman.

Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow.

As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.

"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"

"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"

‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'

"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”

Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."

Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.

"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.

Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.

Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.

"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.

The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.

Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.

As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"

Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"

"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.

In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.

Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale

The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.

He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.

She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around

As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.

“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.

Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.

The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.

"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”

With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.

‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.

Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.

There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features.

“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.

"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.

Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "

"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."

A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.

"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"

"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."

Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.

Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead.

This man could fucking dance.

As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.

"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.

"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."

After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.

"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.

Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."

While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.

As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose.

What were you doing to him?

"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"

Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.

"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.

Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."

Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.

Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.

However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.

"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."

Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.

Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.

"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout.

"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."

Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"

He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.

"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"

“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.

“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."

Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.

"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said.

Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.

"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.

With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit.

Yes, he shall see you very soon.

Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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violainebriat · 2 months

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It's a bit weird typing out a full post here on tumblr. I used to be one of these artists that mostly focused on posting only images, the least amount of opinions/thoughts I could share, the better. Today, the art world online feels weird, not only because of AI, but also the algorithms on every platform and the general way our craft is getting replaced for close to 0 dollars. This website was a huge instrument in kickstarting my career as a professional artist, it was an inspiring place were artists shared their art and where we could make friends with anyone in the world, in any industries. It was pretty much the place that paved the way as a social media website outside of Facebook, where you could search art through tags etc. Anyhow, Tumblr still has a place in my heart even if all artists moved away from it after the infamous nsfw ban (mostly to Instagram and twitter). And now we're all playing a game of whack-a-mole trying to figure out if the social media platform we're using is going to sell their user content to AI / deep learning (looking at you reddit, going into stocks). On the Tumblr side, Matt Mullenweg's interviews and thoughts on the platform shows he's down to use AI, and I guess it could help create posts faster but then again, you have to click through multiple menus to protect your art (and writing) from being scraped. It's really kind of sad to have to be on the defensive with posting art/writing online. It doesn't even reflect my personal philosophy on sharing content. I've always been a bit of a "punk" thinking if people want to bootleg my work, it's like free advertisement and a testament to people liking what I created, so I've never really watermarked anything and posted fairly high-res version of my work. I don't even think my art is big enough to warrant the defensiveness of glazing/nightshading it, but the thought of it going through a program to be grinded into a data mush to be only excreted out as the ghost of its former self is honestly sort of deadening.

Finally, the most defeating trend is the quantity of nonsense and low-quality content that's being fed to the internet, made a million times easier with the use of AI. I truly feel like we're living what Neil Postman saw happening over 40 years ago in "amusing ourselves to death"(the brightness of this man's mind is still unrivaled in my eyes).

I guess this is my big rant to tell y'all now I'm gonna be posting crunchy art because Nightshade and Glaze basically make your crispy art look like a low-res JPEG, and I feel like an idiot for doing it but I'm considering it an act of low effort resistance against data scraping. If I can help "poison" data scrapping by wasting 5 minutes of my life to spit out a crunchy jpeg before posting, listen, it's not such a bad price to pay. Anyhow check out my new sticker coming to my secret shop really soon, and how he looks before and after getting glazed haha....

#ai protection #my art #violaine briat

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eshayteaparty · 3 months

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Cats, claws and cards

~Fandom(s): Hazbin Hotel

~Warning(s): swearing

~Ship(s): Husk x Angeldust

~Word count: 1,606

~Starring gn, young!reader

~In which you are bored in the hotel, with no other sinners your age really around, and luckily for you, Husk has a few tricks ready for the stage- or in this case, the lobby. A magnificent display, starring his famous, multi-armed assistant!

-♥+♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥+♥-

You’d think being in hell would be a little more interesting, with all the constant and r-rated activity going on, but as you had appeared down here as a younger child and had just happened to run into the princess of hell herself looking around, you are being confined for your safety to these child-proofed walls- much to your dismay.

Charlie didn’t always have time to play with you, no matter how much she wanted to. It was easy to fall victim to your juvenile charms. But today, you are left alone to…what? Think over your choices in life? That wasn’t how you worked.

You sit up at the bar, struggling to get up onto the high stool at first, and peek over the countertop at the grouchy, crusty old cat opposite you, cleaning glasses. Husker. The two of you rarely interacted, because of course Charlie wouldn’t let a child near the bar…but Charlie wasn’t here today.

You thought you ought to at least show manners.

“Mister kitty?” you had heard the fuzzy white bombshell of a resident, Angeldust, call him that before, and you had assumed it was out of respect, though you realized how sorely you were mistaken when he turned to face you with his ears back against his head and a scowl on his face.

He sighs. “Yeah, kid?” he isn’t going to tell you off as he would Angel, obviously. Who would do that to a kid?

…him, in most cases. But you were different. You hadn’t annoyed him too much so far, as your age led you to be shy around the others. Quiet was a good trait in his books.

“Can we play something?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Play- you wanna play? With me? I ain’t got time for games, kiddo.” he turns back around, his eyes on the bitter-smelling dishes. “Ask the princess, er' somethin’.”

“But spidey told me you could do card tricks.”

Husker’s ears twitch, and he glances at you in his peripheral, his expression wary. “...Legs told you I-” he shakes his head. “No. no, I…I’m guessing you mean magic, don’t you? I ain’t got tricks. You shouldn’t be sittin’ up here, y/n. Someone’ll think I'm serving you.”

You stretch your arms out on the countertop, whining as your hair flops over your eyes. “I’m borrrreeeed.”

He sighs. If anyone, you remind him most of Angel. He situates the damp towel he was using to clean over his shoulder, turning to face you as his ears twitch. He starts to smile, his eyes half-lidded.

“Bored, huh?” His tone is one that says he’s teasing you. “Really, really bored?”

You nod, spreading your fingers. “Yessss.”

Husker sighs, thinking this over. He could either go on with getting the dishes clean, and have you sit there until you inevitably got sad from being ignored and went away.

Or…he could indulge in your suggestion. He could use some practice, after all. It'd been a while since he’d put on a show. And who were you to judge? You were a child. It would be easy to make you laugh. Win-win.

He comes around the bar to stand beside you on your chair, then takes a hold of you under your arms, lifting you down from the stool like a doll. “Then let’s go, kid. Cmon. I've got some free time.”

You giggle, and follow him towards the lounge in the lobby, where he had thought there’d be some free space…key word being thought.

“Pussy cat!~” Angel cheers, swinging his long legs over the edge of the couch. Husker sighs loudly. Not him, anyone but him.

You wave shyly at the spider demon, making him snicker. He had grown to be quite fond of you as well, despite your opposite personalities. That was what attracted, he guessed. “And company! What, is this another bootleg Disney movie night?” he reaches out to scruff up your hair gently. “Don’t tell me it’s Descendants again, y/n, baby.”

You giggle softly, shaking your head, and sit down beside him as he makes room for you on the couch. Husk pads over to the centre of the room, cracking his back and shoulders with a sigh. Angel dust’s many eyes widen with glee, and he sits up straighter, drawing his knees up to his chest. “No fucking way.”

“Language, Legs.” Husk grins fondly. “We’ve got a kid in the audience.” both you and Angeldust squeal.

“Alright, so…” the cat rubs his paws together, and cards appear in his hands, just like that. Your heart starts to beat a little faster out of excitement, and you squeal again, clutching one of Angeldust’s lower hands. Husk grumbles. “Welcome to the show, uh…you two.” Angel cups his upper hands to his mouth. “Address us properly!!”

“Lady and Gentleman.” you start to giggle all over again. Husk shuffles his deck of cards, sniffing.

“I'm gonna need an assistant.” he says dryly, and his lemon eyes flit between the two of you. Angeldust starts to furiously jump up and down on the couch, kicking his feet on the floor.

“Me! Me me me me me!!” he shrieks, making Husk’s ears flatten down and you fall into helpless peals of laughter. The bartender sighs, and signals Angel up to the ‘stage’ with his claw.

He holds out his shuffled cards up to Angeldust, forcing back a smile. “Please, good sir, pick a card. Any card.” Angel starts to laugh, and pretends to mull over the decision for a long time, watching in the corner of his eye for a positive reaction from you- which he got. It delighted the two of them to see you smile, as you’re usually so withdrawn. With this, they decide to keep it up.

Angel scratches his head, and Husk grits his teeth in an ingenuine beam. “Any day now, good sir!” more laughter explodes from your mouth, childish, bubbly giggles echoing around the hotel’s lobby. Angel laughs, wiggling his fingers over the cards and bending down a little to be closer to Husk’s height.

“I’ll take this one!” he says cheerfully, pressing it to his fluffy chest. Husker grins, raising his eyebrows.

“Good, good. Keep hiding it, alright? Don’t let anybody see it.”

As he says this, he notices Angel dust sneaking you a peek, and he covers your eyes with his paw. “I said nobody could see it! No looking, kiddo!”

You huff, but settle back into the couch, folding your arms as the show goes on. Both Angel and Husk start to smile at each other.

“Alright, mister dust.” Husk begins, his voice gravelly and mysterious. He closes in his patterned wings, making you coo in intrigue. “Tell me…was this….your card?”

He opens up his wings again, and reveals hundreds of replicas of Angel’s card stuck to the insides of them. You and Angel gasp, and you clap your hands together in praise, giggling in awe. Angel nods with vigour.

“It was my card!” angel hollers, and flashes you his card- the two of hearts. He turns back to Husk, and embraces him, spinning him around. “My king!! How did you know!?”

Husk isn’t exactly a fan of the action, but as he sees your wide, happy smile, he flutters his wings, letting the cards fly everywhere. “I couldn’t tell you, sir. A magician never reveals his secrets.”

You catch hold of a few of the cards, cradling them in your arms. You get up from the couch to show the both of them, and they clap for you, too. You jump up and down frantically beside Husk. “That was so so cool!! You told me you couldn’t do magic!!”

“That…uhh…” Husk scratches the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. He gently rubs your hair. “That was…that was a trick too, kiddo. A magic trick.”

You think it must be over now, but suddenly, Husk’s pupils dilate. He stares past you, making you tilt your head. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve…” he bites back a grin, flexing his claws. “You’ve got somethin’...” Angel starts to catch on, and laughs, lifting his fingers towards your jaw.

“You’ve got a lil somethin’ right there, y/n…” he says softly, his accent sticking out as he lowers his tone. Your eyes flicker with concern, and you back up, getting scared.

“W-what? What is it?”

Husker smiles at you as Angel coaxes you back towards him, still giggling. “Hold on, I can pick it out. Stay still~”

Angel reaches behind your ear, producing a shiny gold coin from thin air. You shriek in amazement, and they’re sent into helpless laughter witnessing your reaction.

“You’re makin’ bank and didn’t even notice, kiddo.” Husk says, and takes the coin from Angel, putting it gently in your hand, making your smile even wider “Keep that one. An’ keep the cards, too. I don’t wanna clean them up. Make a….I dunno. A tower, or somethin’.

You nod, biting your lip so you don’t overreact again. “That’s so cool!! You can both do magic, that’s awesome!” Angel reaches out one of his lower hands to Husk as you rant, and Husk takes it, squeezing it in triumph. His heart seems to beat a little easier when Angeldust is around, no matter what’s going on.

Angeldust then scoops you up into his arms, and you squeal, laughing. He spins you around. “What’s next, lil darlin’? Hm? You’ve gotta pick the next game too, yaknow~”

As you look between the two of them, up and down, you squeal, waving your hands around. “I got it, I got it!!”

They both look expectantly over at you.

“Dress up! And mister Alastor can play!!”

((will be a part two))

-♥+♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥.♥+♥-

So cute hehehe thank u for reading pookies

More coming soon!

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cheriladycl01 · 1 month

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I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 4

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

Credit to misscalliopecruz for the GIF

You didn't realize just how easy it was for Sam and Colby to make calls to these haunted locations and be given permissions to film investigations.

You'd been set up for literally 3 days time which made you guys feel even more excited as it was such short notice. Colby and Sam spent the time charging all the equipment, booking hotels and doing all the admin stuff you'd offered to help them with but they'd refused saying you should try and get a few good nights of sleep while you could, so you stayed in your flat making sure you had a comfy enough outfit ready to go in.

Colby had practically begged you to wear their merch, so of course you took the hoodie he'd given to you. You'd planned to wear it with a pair of bootleg jeans as even though it was very clearly British Time you gathered in the middle of the night in an old creepy castle it would get cold. Which is why you were thankful for the hoodie rather than a top as the piece of merch Colby gifted you.

You kind of wanted to make Colby and Sam wear some of you Red Bull Merch but thought maybe that was going a bit too far so you left them packed away in the rucksack you were going to be taking with you.

You had a later night on the day before the investigation so you were able to stay up till around 4 or 5am, ending up waking up for around 11am. You did your morning workout before getting something to eat and had a slow evening before meeting up with the boys.

"Are you okay driving?" Colby asks as you all walk down to the car park of the hotel they were staying in.

"Any reason, or just because I'm the better driver?" you smirk, knowing full well you were the better driver.

"I just don't like driving in the UK, it's way more complicated than the US, those roundabouts... wild things!" he jokes, even though there was some truth to it.

"Yeah sure, I don't mind... but If I'm driving its my Spotify playlist on shuffle..." you reason and they both nod agreeing, not petty enough to start a disagreement over music, especially when you guys would probably have similar music tastes.

The drive to the castle was fun, you were all talking about the history you guys had researched and what was there.

When you pulled up, you got this zing of excitement down you spine.

"Guys, I'm really excited for this" you exclaim looking back at them getting all the stuff out the car while you were in awe of the building.

It was a huge location and you already knew that the boys would challenge you to go somewhere alone because of how big it was.

The boys got out their camera and you waited off to the side as they did their intro.

"What's up guys its Sam and Colby and today we are here a Dannamore Castle in the UK, one of the most haunted Castles in the world!" Colby says with that normal cryptic sort of look on his face.

"And as you guys probably expected from our recent trip to see out good friend, today we have Y/N Y/L/N here with us!" Sam introduces panning the camera round to you making you smile and bunch up closer to them.

"Hey!" you grin and the boys turn to you.

"Okay for those who don't know Y/N is a MotoGP rider to she basically rides motorbikes really quickly round race-tracks for a living and she's really good at it too. The reason she is here is because she said she wouldn't be scared to come onto one of our videos and we really want to put that to the test" Colby mentions and you blush at the praise, entirely used to but it still got you every time.

They cut the cameras after showing the outside of the area saying that they'd be filming a lot of the history out-takes in their studio at home and having watched their videos you knew what they meant.

Two men and a lady came out, one was the caretaker, another was a tour guide and the other a medium of sorts that worked with the place.

Sam and Colby started to talk to the caretaker that would help in showing you round later when you walked off.

You thought you saw something dash out the corner of your eye, Sam and Colby were too busy listening too all the ins and outs of the area, what rooms you didn't have access to which in this particular castle wasn't actually that many just the unsafe spaces where the wooden flooring had gotten too old and they hadn't rebuilt it yet.

"Where's your friend?" the caretaker asks seeing that the girl wasn't where she had been a minute ago.

The others look around trying to see if you were behind the car or near the entrance but you were nowhere in sight.

"Y/N?" Colby yelled out. Sam following with a shout of his own name.

"Yeah?" you ask walking from behind a stone wall that ran behind the castle into the gardens.

"Where did you run off to?" Sam asks and the caretakers also look intrigued.

"Something caught the corner of my eye and I wanted to see if anyone else was on the property" you shrug your shoulder making Sam look to the now turned on camera Colby had, as they had started to film the minute the group were aware that you were missing.

"You just left, because you saw something?" Colby asks and you nod, making Sam chuckle. They cut the cameras, giving you a small run down of the castle, which rooms you guys weren't allowed it and when you guys had to leave by.

They also further explained not having got there before that it would just be you guys in there tonight, the caretaker however stays in the barn that was technically 'on the property' but not inside the castle just for legal purposes.

"So this is the centre of the castle. Back in the day, all residents from the Dannamore family and their friends would have been around here as this was and still is a hub" the tour guide smiles as you all look around the expanse of the hall.

"Who was part of the Dannamore Family, I'm guessing we'll meet some of them tonight?" you smile asking intrigued.

"Well Drake Dannamore has always been the most present spirit we have here. He is the original resident of the castle" she starts and you all nod.

"Is he cool?" Colby asks making you turn to him in shock. How is he referring to a like 1000 year old spirit as cool.

"He's a kind spirit yes. Y/N you'll get most the activity from him, he's the protector of this house... practically the women" she smiles.

"Really? Why's that?" Sam asks.

"Well, Drake..." she starts and you guys hear a knock from the back of the room making you all look there and the guide and caretaker laugh a little.

"I think he's here with us!" she smiles looking around before continuing.

"He married Valisa Dupont a French Lady from a wealthy family. Their family gifted and built this castle as a sign of their gratitude for Drake protecting Valisa. However, Valisa did not love Drake and apparently she became very spiteful towards him. She would cheat on him with the bakers boy who worked and lived in the home. She neglected their children making Drake exhausted" she starts and you feel a sort of overwhelming sadness wash over you. Enough for you to reach up and hold you chest.

"Vasila attempted to kill Drake but ended up mistakenly poisoning his sister Darcey. He ended the relationship with her, and she was livid. He moved on and married Bianca, who mysteriously died one night after saying for years she felt like she was being watched. People working in the castle at the time reported that Vasila killed Bianca out of jealously. Drake was in anguish and after that refused to marry again. He tried to protect Bianca as much as possible thinking Vasila was terrorizing her. After that its said that Drake either pushed her or she threw herself from the east tower, falling to her death" she finishes and you all look in shock.

"So he protects females that come into the castle from Vasila, who i'm guessing remains here as a negative energy because he feels like he needs to do what he couldn't do for Bianca?" you ask and a creak or footsteps was heard from above making all your heads snap up.

"I'd take that as a yes!" Colby laughs making you laugh as well.

"So this is an active place for all the spirits?" Sam asks looking around.

"Not all, but most. Drake can be found here along with his children who are also protectors of the home. Bianca is also here who is a very friendly and kind spirit. But its not just people who have lived in the castle. There's portals here too" the caretaker answers showing the mirrors that were facing each other.

"Woah?" you say stepping closer to Colby where the mirrors are.

"So what do we need to be wary of?" Colby asks.

"Vasila, of course. She doesn't like any-one male or female. She's been known to touch and scratch and make lots of loud noises but she's only in certain areas of the house like the tower and the pantry room" she explains.

"Because of her relationship with the baker boy?" Sam asks and she nods.

"Y/N you'll need to be extra careful of the baker boy" she admits and you look off to the left.

"Why?"

"He doesn't like ... dominant women!" she exclaims looking down, making you frown with a small laugh.

"I'm a dominant woman?" you ask with a laugh.

"Just like your presence, the tattoos, biker personality and just your aura she means, your head strong which is something Madison didn't like" the medium says for the first time since being here.

"Madison?" Sam asks.

"The baker boy, that was his name Madison!" he answers.

This would make for an interesting night!

Taglist:

@richardsamboramylove55 @braveangel777 @rockwyu @jada-lockwood @itzdarling

#sam and colby x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby imagine #sam golbach #colby brock imagine #colby brock #sam and colby #colby x reader #colby brock one shot #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfic

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maxwell-grant · 1 year

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“What's impressive?! I've been a boy this whole time!”

(Spoilers for Puss in Boots 2: The Last Wish)

Big Jack Horner was delightfully wretched and felt a lot like he was a Shrek villain stuck in a Puss in Boots movie and it made for a really interesting contrast, with everyone else in the forest going through swashbuckling adventures of personal growth and companionship, while he’s cheating and steamrolling his way through everything with darkly comedic brutality, quite literally pulling Shrek gags out of a bag as he just kills and burns and stomps his way through the magical wonderland.

It’s like he was designed to be the Final Boss of Shrek, except there’s currently no Shrek movies for him to be in so, into the Puss in Boots sequel he goes, almost like this dark embodiment of the shadow cast over the Puss in Boots franchise that it must surpass (and somehow did). He just does not play by any of the same rules everyone else does and it’s great, it lets everyone look better by default. It lets the Puss vs Death story play out in all it’s poetic glory but still gives the movie a proper bastard for everyone to gang up on. I didn’t think of that at first, but I’ve read some comments and wonderful analysis commenting on Jack Horner as a extended pisstake on Disney, an update of Lord Farquaad for modern times, and it’s an analysis that makes a lot of sense.

In that regard: while this couldn’t possibly have been intentional given their release dates so close to each other, I do think it’s pretty funny that Jack winds up connected to Pinocchio, a character who had having a rather busy 2022 if you can tell. Not only is he followed around by a bootleg Jiminy Cricket, but we see that Jack, who was extremely well-off and spoiled throughout his entire life, bears an incandescent bitterness against all magical creatures (and Pinocchio specifically) for taking attention away from his roadside show, which consisted entirely of him reciting his nursery rhyme over and over (even his family was shown bored by it), and so that’s why he wants to own ALL the magic in the world: so that nobody else gets any.

He, who already owns a massive empire and business and land and literally endless collections of powerful magical artifacts he can use to achieve anything he wants a trillion times over, who doesn’t even know what most of what he has does or is worth, is driven by the fact that Pinocchio upstaged him once,

and so nobody else should get to do anything like that ever again.

(Again, not saying this was remotely intentional, just a funny coincidence)

Also wonderful how his ultimate undoing comes from said bootleg Jiminy Cricket, one of the countless employees he’d abused and crushed over the movie, finally having enough and sending him his incendiary “resignation letter”. 2022 saw the year end with a movie where Jiminy Cricket ends a titanic corporate manchild’s reign of terror and life by setting a magical contract map on fire and freeing everyone from it.

It doesn’t even register as one of the best things about the movie only because the movie has SO many best things going on, that it can just casually work in one of the funniest Shrek subplots of all time like it’s easy. Still shocked at how good this film was and how much life they injected into it, perfect movie to end or start the year with.

#puss in boots #puss in boots 2 #puss in boots the last wish #dreamworks #shrek #big jack horner

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nicestgirlonline · 6 months

Text

Underneath the Tree

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Lightly smutty! Minors DNI! Angst and romance mostly

Work count: 1.4k

Summary: Dating Captain America during Christmas time certainly has its cons, but Steve is always there to make it up to you

a/n: ARE YOU EXCITED FOR SOME OOEY GOOEY HOLIDAY FICS??? I'm so excited for you to read this one. My first time writing Cap! Lots of Christmas fluff! Reblogs and comments are so so appreciated! Love you all <3

There’s a certain amount of Christmas Spirit that is expected from Captain America, that became clear the first year of dating Steve. Tree lighting ceremonies, Christmas parades, children’s hospital visits, charity galas, Christmas parties all across the country.

Christmas had become a marathon month where you saw less of your boyfriend in person and more of him in glossy PR images. You couldn’t go with him given your full time job. Everybody got a piece of your boyfriend but you. This year you were hoping it would be different, but here you were. decorating the tree by yourself. Partially out of an empty boredom and partially from loneliness that comes this time of year.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the lock of your apartment click, followed by the clattering chaos of Steve coming in. You could tell he was trying to be quiet, fighting against the noise from entering his bag of presents as well as his shield.

“Oh, you uh, you already got the tree decorated?” Steve asked, clearly disappointed. You had resisted decorating it for nearly a month. Steve and Bucky chopped down real trees after thanksgiving and it filled the apartment with a wonderful pine scent. You two put the lights on right away, bright multi-colored bulbs that made the room glow yellow, red and blue. But putting up the ornaments was something Steve had wanted to do together. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to be together much during the Christmas season.

So it stood tall and empty in your living room. A gloomy reminder of your lonesomeness most nights. He had promised you two would decorate it before Christmas, but that deadline was fast approaching.

He had lifted the huge sack of presents over his shoulder. You wanted to laugh seeing him in his Captain America get up, with a Santa hat and presents over his shoulder. He looked adorable but exhausted. He placed the gifts under the tree and took off his helmet. He ran his hand through his messy helmet hair then turned to you to give you a kiss.

“Well, it's going to be Christmas in eight minutes. So I figured I had to at least get started.” You said dryly. He sent you a sad smile.

“Thank you for saving the popcorn at least. It’s the best part of the tree.” He picked up the popcorn garland that he insisted on each year. A throwback to the old-fashioned decorations he loved. He had lost the argument about tinsel but popcorn garland was a mainstay.

“You should get some sleep Sweetie. You’ve got the ABC Special tomorrow.” Even with the smile on his face, you could see how tired his eyes were. There were dark bags expertly hidden under some TV make-up. He scoffed.

“What are you talking about? We’ve got to get this place decorated. I promised before Christmas.” He said already starting to get the garland strung up. “Any of the ornaments left? There’s room up at the top of the tree!”

You smiled at him. Your frustrations and resentment twisted in your stomach. It was nice that he was trying.

“I saved you the cutest one.” You handed him his personal favorite. Winter Fighter, a bootleg Bucky figure with both arms painted silver and no eyes. It made Steve laugh hysterically when he first saw it. You started to collect them, until you had a tree with nearly only ugly, knock-off Avengers merch. The red and yellow Mcdonald’s looking Metal Hero, Nordic Space Hero who had brushable blonde hair, the twisted plastic face and bulging eyes from the Commander USA ornament.

He hung the remaining ornaments with care. You really didn’t know how he still had the energy.

“I love Christmas. I always have. For a long time I didn’t really celebrate it because I didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with. So I'd filled my calendar with all of this - stuff. All of December I would get to see so many people and make their Christmas’s special. ”

“Except I haven’t really been here this year, have I?”

You shrugged, you didn’t want to fight but you didn’t want to lie either.

“I’ve seen like thirty Christmas tree lightings this month. But this is the only one that has actually made me feel anything.”

“Because it's so ugly and cheap?” You joked, lightly elbowing him. He doesn’t laugh, instead he grabbed your arm and brought you into him. He moved his hands to your waist.

“Because it's ours. I hate that I’ve been away from you so much. I keep celebrating Christmas with everyone except the one person I love most.” His voice broke slightly. You could hear his sorrow. You hugged him

The two of you embraced, you felt tender and vulnerable as you swayed in the soft light of the tree.

“This is all I wanted this year, just to be with you.” you whispered to him. He squeezed you tighter, you snuggled into his warm chest.

“Well, I guess there’s still time to return all these...” He sighed, gesturing with his head to the gifts overflowing under the tree.

“Hey!” You grabbed his chin as he chuckled at your indignation. “Let’s not get crazy here. You still have some things to make up for.” You kissed him again. He tilted his head and parted your lips with his tongue. He gently cupped the back of your head, his other hand going to your hip bringing you tightly against his body. He pulled his lips away, to lean down and scoop you up in his arms. You let out a squeal as he swept you up in his arms, placing your arms around his neck. He brought his lips back to yours as he started to carefully make his way towards the bedroom.

“Wait, wait!” You cried out. Steve stopped in his tracks, his head tilted to the side.

“I thought we were making up for lost time?”

“It’s just…the tree finally looks so good.” You said sheepishly, biting at your bottom lip. “It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?”

Steve beamed. He bent down to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“Yeah Sweetheart, I think it looks great.” He spun around to place you down on the couch instead. He crawled over you, warmth radiating off of him as he boxed you into place. His lips met yours again, slowly moving against yours. His tongue teasing against your lips, asking for entrance. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, hugging him closer, you’d missed him so much. You clung to him, hitching one of your legs over his, both of your lips dancing together.

You reveled in being surrounded by Steve for the first time in weeks. You basked in every part of him. The smell of his cologne, a cedar wood and musk, the sound of his breath hitching as you lift your hips to reach his, the roughness of his calloused hands and the gentleness of his lips.

“I love you,” he breathed.

You gazed into his blue eyes, filled with warmth and affection. His beautiful face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the tree.

“I love you too Steve.” Glancing at the clock, you could see it was past midnight now. “Merry Christmas.” He glanced over his shoulder at the clock then back down at you. You could tell what was weighing on his mind. He was the Star - Spangled Christmas Man, he had places to be in about six hours. He cracked his neck then eased back down on to his forearms over you.

“You know, I think I’m starting to feel a little sick.” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Excuse me?” He let out a few performative coughs before burying his head in your neck. He started to slowly press kiss down to the base of your throat.

“I think I’m far too sick to even think about going out tomorrow. In fact, I think we are going to have to cancel all of my engagements, until the new year.” He continued his kissing down from your throat to your clavicle.

“Hmm well if it's that serious sweetheart, maybe you should just stay in bed all day tomorrow.” You suggested. You let out a happy sigh as his lips continued down to your chest. He snaked one hand down your legs, cupping your pussy and snapping your panties off.

You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair and you started to push his head further south, which he quickly obliged.

You knew you couldn't have your boyfriend all to yourself all of the time. But you’ve been very good this year, and you deserved it.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #slight angst #fluff #holiday smut #christmas fanfic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction

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myemotionalsupportcharacters · 7 months

Text

Somebody I Used to Know

Abby Anderson X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: smut, trauma, implied PTSD

Friends to Enemies to Lovers Arc

A/n: did this turn out three times longer than I meant it to be? Yes. Is it edited? Barely. Enjoy!

It had been years now since Salt Lake, but some things hadn’t changed.

Abby still avoided you in the halls, had you assigned to patrols she didn’t want to go on, glared you down in the canteen as you made your way to their table. Having a sworn enemy is hard when you share the same friend group.

You had been thick as thieves growing up. Abby’s dad had become yours when you turned up at the hospital running from a group of bad guys that had managed to kill your parents before you slipped away. You had begun to show signs of starvation, bloody and bruised, clutching a large knife with both hands as soldiers had to subdue you to get you inside.

When you woke up, she was there: changing the wash cloth on your head, all but forcing a glass of water down you as they tried to break your fever. Inseparable since that moment, you did everything together. You found his body together.

She wouldn’t let you go when they dragged you out of the room and onto a truck. Sobbing, pounding her fists into your back as you helped them drag her away.

In the back of the truck, red rimmed eyes and a firm scowl, she looked up at you.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to make him pay.” Your throat constricted, chest burned, and all you could do was nod and clutch her tightly to your chest.

It was a few days later when she brought it up again. Laying in sleeping bags on a hard concrete floor, she rolled over to you.

“Y/N, you awake?” You rolled over to face her, barely illuminated by the moonlight breaking through the rotting roof panels. “I was serious. I’m going to track him down, and I’m going to kill him. You’ll come with me, right?”

“Abby, I miss him so much.” Tears filled your eyes, tipping over the edge and trailing at an awkward angle down your face. “I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t think he would want that for you…” she rolled over in her bag before you could finish, face hardened.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

She didn’t talk to you again, betrayed by her closest confidant. How could you not see that this was her only option? Her only way to heal, to honour him?

For the first year, you approached her in the halls, included her in conversation, and was always met with cold silence and a flat glare. She slipped even further away when she started dating Owen. You had always known they would end up together at some point, but you couldn’t have imagined how insufferable he would become when they did.

Every opportunity he had his hands on her, poking and teasing, whispering in her ear. You watched as she swooned and giggled like a little girl, turning away from the sight and doing your best to ignore them. The resentment grew. It wasn’t just him anymore, it was her too. She had replaced you, with him.

Then came the Bonfire Incident (as it was known in the group). You had been buzzing about it for a month. Isaac had finally given the go ahead for a small celebration for the patrol squads after the new territory was secured. You would christen the new ground with a good ol’ fashioned bonfire, complete with barbecue and bootleg liquor.

The best part, Lexi was going. You had a small crush on her, and had heard through a mutual friend that she thought you were pretty. You had high hopes. All hopes were confirmed when she dragged you off to a dark section of trees, toting a bottle of smuggled whiskey she found on patrol. You drank, flirted and eventually, she had you pinned against a tree, tongue in your mouth and a hand down your pants.

“Fuck, yes, there.” You panted, leaning your head back against the tree as she dug two fingers into just the right spot and ground the heel of her hand against your throbbing clit. “Shit, so close.” Her lips dragged across your collarbone, and up your neck. A rustle caught your attention, and you tipped your head to the side, catching Abby sneaking between the trees. She stopped, holding your eye contact, expression switching quickly from caught to determined. Her jaw tightened and twitched, thick arms folding across her chest as she watched the scene unfold.

You held her gaze, letting out one final moan as you contracted around Lexi’s fingers, cumming so hard it took your breath away and made your toes tingle. Abby never looked away. Lexi moaned into your neck.

“So fuckin tight, doll. Bet you taste as sweet as you sound.” You looked around as she gently pulled her fingers from you, leaving you empty and pulsing. She brought her fingers up to your mouth, and your jaw dropped open. She placed them gently on your tongue, and you lapped up your own juices. “You’re so fucking hot.” She pulled her fingers away and pressed a quick hot kiss to your lips.

“What do you say we finish this later?” You asked, pulling away.

“Whatever you say, hun. You coming?” She pulled the whiskey back up to her lips, taking a swig.

“Just gonna straighten myself out.” Lexi winked, walking away. Once she was far enough, you turned to face Abby still leaning against the tree.

Abby stepped back out from the tree she had taken cover behind.

“The fuck was that?”

“Aw, Abby, Owen not taking care of you?” Abby let out a mocking laugh.

“I meant your choice in partner. Seriously? Lexi?”

“What’s wrong with Lexi?” You defended, folding your own arms over your chest.

“Nothing, nothing.” Abby held her hands up. “Just thought you had better taste than that.”

“Since when did my taste in women have anything to do with you, Anderson? Especially considering your own clear lack of judgement.” Abby’s face hardened.

“Fuck you.”

“You wish you could, Anderson. I’m just not sure you could keep up.” You pushed off the tree, reaching down to zip up your pants as you stalked back to the fire, leaving her in the dark.

You only found out the next morning that Owen had broken things off three days prior.

You felt awful, but pushed it down. She had spent the past couple years treating you like shit, and the one time you returned the favour, you suddenly felt guilty?

You shook it off, and returned to the normal routine. Until today.

You headed to the armoury, opening your locker and pulling out a slightly battered sniper rifle, a 9mm, and restocking your pockets with ammo. Pulling on your pack, you headed out back and hopped onto your assigned truck. You pulled a small book out your sack, and waited as everyone got loaded on.

It was tradition by now, everyone had learned you didn’t partake in the pre-shit show banter and chatter. You read, you shot, and then you chilled.

“The fuck is this?” You didn’t look up when you heard her voice. “No, Manny she shouldn’t be here.” You heard shuffling as Manny pulled Abby aside and talked her down. A couple minutes later she hopped onto the back of the truck and sat as far down the bench as possible.

“Apparently I’m covering your ass today.” Abby grunted, and you flipped to the next page. Tony chuffed, and looked over at Abby.

“She doesn’t talk before runs. Or during actually.”

“The fuck…” You tuned out Abby grumbling, zoning into your book until you felt Manny clap you on the shoulder.

“It’s time.” You nodded, stowing your book and standing. You followed him into the building, ignoring the gunshots that covered your entrance. You made your way to rooftop, Abby moving silently in your wake. Busting the door open, you quickly made your way to the edge, and began setting up the rifle. Abby stuck by the door, and you let out a chuff of your own.

“Heights.” You remembered. “Are you going to be able to do this?” You called to her.

“I’m fine. Worry about yourself.” Abby turns her back, focusing on the doorway.

Half an hour later and the street below was littered with corpses of runners and Scars alike. The Scars had come first, pushed out of hiding by the runners, all part of Isaac’s brilliant plan. The silencer on sniper mostly concealed your location, Abby had been stationed just incase any managed to slip through the building clearing or the first defence line. You had spent the whole time with your eye to the scope, all other sounds or distractions tuned out.

“All clear, fuck!” Manny came to a halt at the doorway. You hauled yourself up from the ground, disassembling the rifle, and packing it back up. You turned to see the pile of bodies Abby had left. Three scar, one much larger than the others, and five clickers. Abby was sat leaning against an air duct, rewrapping the bandages around her knuckles and wrist, a deep gouge oozing blood down the left side of her face.

“You’re welcome.” She grunts in your direction, standing and grabbing her rucksack.

“Thanks.” You returned, straight faced.

Abby stares at you for a moment, then laughs and stalks away. Manny looks between you, before following Abby.

The truck was silent on the ride back, two people lighter than on the way out. You sat, staring at the floor, ignoring Abby’s eyes on you. She had seen it when she got to the ground floor. The devastation you had left in your wake. At least four times the amount of her own kills. You had seen the way she looked at you as you got onto the truck. She hadn’t realised what living at WLF had turned you into, she hadn’t been paying attention. She’d never seen the look in your eyes after a run, hollow and empty. Hadn’t thought about why you didn’t want to talk about what went down on runs with the group, why everyone but your friend group tended to eye you as you walked down the halls. They’d fashioned you into a killer, and stollen the light that used to shine in your eyes. They’d done the same thing to her.

The showers were running hot that day, the fog they created obscuring her vision slightly as she watched you. You stood under the hot water, head tipped back, eyes shut as tears camouflaged with the water. Behind you eyes, a movie of your killing spree played out like pantomime. You saw each of them go down, saw their lives up until that point play out until the moment your bullet found them. Then you scrubbed it all away, and drifted back to your room with raw skin, and blurry eyes.

The knock came not long after.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk, but…please let me in.” You paused, hand over the handle, before you opened the door and walked away. You sat on the small couch and gestured to the coffee table. Abby sat, legs spread wide, leaning forward on her knees.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, and you pulled your knees to your chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable in your pj shorts and sports bra. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I’m sorry for leaving you alone, I’m sorry for putting you on the shit patrol runs. I’m sorry for everything, fuck, Y/N.” She runs her hands over her face, finally looking up to see your vacant eyes staring back. “I’m sorry for scaring all those girls off when they tried to talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. All of it, I fucked it all up… Somewhere in her rambling, your eyes hardened, became piercing. She watched you reassemble yourself, piece by piece, shut down and toughen into something else.

“You should go.” You cut her off. Her breath caught, noticed the way your fingers tightened around your calves, your breath became stilted. Suddenly you shot off the couch, moving towards the door. “Get out. Now!” You were on the edge, about to slip and the last thing you needed was Abby fucking Anderson witnessing you crumble. She stood, walking over to you. A breath wheezed in your chest, hands shaking, you recoiled away from her.

“Y/n…”

“Please. Leave.” The gasp that left you seemed to puncture the bubble around you, as your knees gave way and she caught you. She shoved the door closed, and pulled you into her lap, feeling you shake and gasp. Her arms coiled around your back, hands rubbing soothingly up and down your spine, letting you bury your head in her shoulder. “I hate you.” You whimpered into her, arms in a vice grip around her shoulders, nails digging into her shoulder blades.

“I know, I don’t blame you.” She sighs, pushing her head into your neck, rocking you back and forth. Slowly, your breathing returned to normal, body becoming limp. You pulled back, moving a hand to the side of her face as you looked down into big blue eyes almost as wet as your own.

“Don’t leave me again.”

“Never.” Abby sucked in a quick breath before pushing her lips to yours. It was gentle, tender as she waited to see how you reacted. She expected a slap, for you to crawl away, hurl the lamp at her. Instead you pressed yourself closer, hand moving to the back of her neck, tilting her head up and slanting so you fit together perfectly.

It got messy quickly, panted breaths and wet tongues. Somewhere between kisses her hands dropped to your hips, gripping and pulling. She groaned when she felt your hips roll against her, bucking up to press closer. The second time she did it, you let out a whimper that almost made her heart stop.

“Fuck, you make such pretty sounds.” She groaned, dropping her lips to your neck, down to your collar bone. You pulled back, tugging off the sports bra, and watching as she quickly wrapped her lips around a nipple. A hazy mix of tongue and teeth had your eyes rolling back.

“I want you so bad.”

“You’ve got me, I’m right here.” Abby shifted, laying you gently on the floor and trailing hot lips down your torso. She had your pjs and panties pulled down around your ankles before you could process the cold air that goose bumped your skin. She pushed your knees apart and up, latching to the soft skin of your inner thigh, teasing her tongue around the very edges of you. She teased until your hips were bucking up and your groans turned to whimpers before she ran her tongue over you.

“Fuck, you do taste sweet.” She groaned, delving back in to part your lips with her tongue before wrapping around your clit, licking and sucking until you were keening and begging for more. She teased a finger at your entrance, feeling the way you tried to suck her in, looking up to see watery eyes looking back at her. As your mouth parted to beg, she slipped a finger in gently, your head dropped back and hands shot to her head.

With hands full of her braid you pulled her closer, feeling her finger curl inside you, triggering a pulse so tight it rippled up through your abdomen. Her finger moved gently as she sucked your clit harshly into her mouth, flicking her tongue over the sensitive bud until your whimpers turned back into full out moans.

“So close, Abs.” You cried, hips wriggling as you tried to find the right spot to tip you over the edge. Abby slipped another finger inside, curling up again and speeding up slightly. She flattened her tongue, and the added pressure launched you over. “Fuck!” Your back arched almost painfully as your legs shook beside her head, she slowed, letting you ride out your high, hips jolting slightly.

Once she was sure you were done, she gently eased out and away from you, running her hands up your sides, and picking you up from the hard floor. She cradled you in her arms, placing a kiss on your forehead before settling you on your bed.

You were still floating as she tucked you under the covers, pulling her pants off and getting in beside you. She pulled you to her, and you nuzzled into her chest.

“I’m never leaving you again.” She placed another tender kiss onto your hairline, stoking your hair as you drifted off to sleep, a soft smile curling your lips.

#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x you

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its-a-me-mango · 1 month

Note

bootleg smg3 plush looks like the Dora the Explorer "Swiper no swiping" thing would work on him. Like he is very evil (and viruses) but he still looks like he would listen if you told him several times to give you viruses like a kid's cartoon character.

That's all he knows what to do though, don't take this away from him! I for one would let him give me a virus, come here d- HOT SINGLES IN YOUR AREA

#SMG4oc: Smug #mangos mystery ask box #I think I'm just gonna call him Smug you guys gave some good names but smug is just sticking with me for some reason

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thedroneranger · 1 year

Text

Vibe Check

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Précis: Bob walks in on you in a compromising position, and things take a turn...

Note: Naturally, my first foray with Bob furthers the Bob Fucks agenda. I will not be taking questions. The man fucks. periodt. 😘 🖤

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit.

Word count: 2.3k

Carrier life was boring, and the entertainment came bootleg. Most nights, you and your fellow aviators took it upon yourselves to overshare personal information to pass the time.

But some nights you made sure your bunkmate wasn't returning any time soon, you tucked yourself into your bed, pulled out the vibrator you managed to sneak into your belongings and pleasured yourself.

Thankfully, your roommate Natasha tended to spend her evenings attached at the hip to her best friend, Bradley Bradshaw, who was also on this deployment. You’d catch Nat coming into your quarters in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she’d been sharing a flask with Bradley or getting busy with some ensign she had set her sights on. Either way, you had plenty of time to thumb through your favorite porn site, pick something that piqued your interest and rub one out.

However, tonight was different.

The cabin was extra warm. Warm enough, you ditched your blankets at the foot of your bed and only wore your two-sizes-too-big Academy t-shirt. Eyes shut, caught up in the sloppy licking and high-pitched moans seeping into your earbuds, rolling your hips into your suction vibrator as it easily slid along the length of your throbbing clit thanks to your arousal, you never heard your cabin door creak open. You never heard Bob Floyd’s calls for Natasha.

Bob never expected to enter your cabin, calling for his pilot, to find you on your bunk, legs butterflied with your hand pressing a suction vibrator over your clit, moving with the same precision you used to fly your jet. He never fathomed how turned on he would be seeing you masturbate.

Stunned, mouth agape, he continued to watch. Momentarily gaining some wit, Bob stepped fully into the cabin and pulled the door shut. He couldn’t let anyone else see you like this. He didn’t want anyone else to see you like this—just him.

Blissfully unaware, your hips rolled quicker and your breath hitched sooner as you crept closer to climax.

Bob’s eyes grew wider and his pants grew tighter.

Your back arched and your eyes popped open as you peaked. You looked directly into Bob’s blown pupils. Your mouth dropped open more in pleasure than surprise, but your movements never ceased. Bob never looked away. The smallest noise escaped your lips when you felt yourself clenching around nothing, your toes curling.

“Oh, my…” Bob said only to himself since you were wearing earbuds with lewd noises still filling your canals.

Coming down and taking a deep breath, you closed your legs, zipping them together and sliding them so they were flat against the mattress. As you composed yourself, reality set in. You pushed yourself into a sitting position and removed your earbuds.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” Your voice was soft, still high on oxytocin.

Bob was dumbfounded. Too flustered to answer. His mouth was still open, his cheeks flushed and he shifted his weight from one foot to another, hoping his semi wasn’t overly noticeable.

“I-I-I’m looking for Natasha.” He stood as tall as he could, adjusted his glasses and swallowed hard.

Now sitting with your knees pulled to your chest, arms looped over your shins, you stared at him innocently. “She’s with Bradshaw or chasing down some poor ensign.” You rested your chin on your knees as you looked at Bob through your eyelashes.

He gulped again. You were in a playful mood. Your bottom lip rolled between your teeth before you spoke. “What’s got you so flustered, Bobby?” Bob’s mouth fell into a shocked O as his eyes grew bigger, which didn’t seem possible. Hiding your mouth behind your arms, you stifled a laugh.

“Do you want to try it?” Your fingers flitted over your bedding until you found your abandoned vibrator. Innocently, you held it in Bob’s direction. “I’d be happy to assist.”

What you were offering wasn’t shocking. Over the years, you and Bob had this unspoken push-pull. Every time you pushed the boundaries with an innuendo or suggestive comment, Bob would pull back, feigning embarrassment. To anyone else, it was innocent. No one expected Bob to retort in a flirty cat-and-mouse game.

But you knew.

And you wanted Bob so fucking bad.

And now, standing before you, wide-eyed, having just watched you masturbate to completion, Bob confirmed he wanted you too.

Silently, he floated over to the bed. You laid back, supporting yourself on your elbows and keeping your legs pressed together, watching Bob over top your knees.

He sank down in front of you, grazing his fingers from your kneecaps to your ankles. Your breath hitched as he looked at you through his thick lenses. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Awestruck, you nodded your permission. His soft lips ghosted your kneecap before firmly planting against the top of your shin. He peppered your legs with kisses and encouraged you to open them.

As your legs fell wide, Bob’s mouth trailed up one of your thighs, leaving wet kisses. The closer to your heat Bob came, the further back you laid. Your eyes remained on him the entire time.

Bob had a forearm across your abdomen, pressing you to the bed, and his smooth cheek laid against the soft inside of your thigh. He was looking at you, his warm breath splashing across where you wanted him most. “Can I kiss you?” he asked again.

A smile graced your features, as you threw your head back. “Fuck, Bobby! You can do whatever you want as long as you put your mouth on me!” you cried, bringing your head forward to look at him.

“As you wish, darlin’.” Bob turned his head and nipped the pristine skin of your thigh. You yelped as he then laved over it with his tongue. The tip of his tongue grazed the nearest lip and a shiver shot through you.

Gently, he sucked it between his lips, gently squeezing and running his tongue along it. He repeated the same motions on the other one. You tossed your head back as his broad tongue wiped across both lips and your swollen clit. Bob rotated, sucking on each. Entranced by his rhythm, your head fell further back.

While you weren’t looking, Bob snagged your vibrator and gently placed it against your pubic mound. Immediately, your head snapped in his direction. Before you could say anything, he slipped the sucker over the head of your clit and shoved two fingers into you. Thank goodness your breath hitched, otherwise the entire carrier would’ve heard you.

You also wanted to immediately close your legs, but Bob’s entire frame was between them. “It’s ok, darlin’, I enjoy hugs.” The smirk on his face and the pulse of the toy had you clenching around his fingers. A breathy sound fell from your lips, and Bob’s fingers continued to languidly curl against that spot that made you see stars.

“That’s it, darlin’.” Bob worshiped your thighs as he continued to work you with his fingers and your vibrator. Your breath shortened, your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut as the band in your belly snapped. A warm relief washed over your entire body—muscles untensing, your lungs deflating.

Bob removed the vibrator, but stayed between your legs, slowly pumping his digits. As you came down, Bob slipped his fingers out and sprinkled kisses around your thighs and abdomen.

While he explored your curves, you brought his hand to your mouth, pushing his fingers past your lips. Swirling your tongue around each digit, you relished the taste of yourself. An unsolicited moan escaped you as you sucked on his fingers. “Darlin’, I can think of somewhere else you could put those skills to use.” Bob used his tongue to tease your cleft.

“C’mere.” You tucked two fingers in the front of Bob’s khaki service button-up and pulled him toward you until your lips met. As Bob’s body covered yours, you slid your fingers down the front of his shirt, forcing the buttons from their holes. His khaki shirt hung open as he pressed his hard-on against your naked core. You pulled his t-shirt from his waistband, and then made quick work of his belt and pants.

It wasn’t long until Bob’s pants were pushed just below his ass as he pumped into you. “Bobby,” you sighed as your hand gingerly rested on his neck. You wanted so badly to run your hand through his hair, but you wanted him to be able to leave the room with his reputation intact.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spied your vibrator. A smile graced your features as you reached for it. Bob was too focused on his own pleasure to notice. Dual-ended, you clicked on the wand end.

As not to startle him, you first feathered it along his exposed abdominals. He shuttered but never faltered as he continued to snap his hips. Bob kept eye contact as you teased parts of him closer and closer to his cock. Finally, you reached the base of his length, and then continued onto his balls.

Almost instantly, he groaned, his hips stuttered and you knew he was going to come. “Stand up,” you told him, using a hand to nudge him back. He obeyed, keeping his gaze on you as you moved to your knees on the edge of bed.

Using his hand, he pumped himself as you switched positions. Ready for him to cum in your mouth, you took over and massaged him until your name slipped from his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes, as your plush lips surrounded his pink tip.

A soft “fuck” left his mouth as he tensed and his tip convulsed, spilling his seed into your mouth. You took it all, swirling the saltiness around before you opened to show him. Then you swallowed and opened your mouth again, sticking out your tongue.

“That was hot.” Bob dropped to his knees so you were more eye level. You pressed your lips to his, and he allowed your tongue into his mouth so he could taste himself. He hummed as his hand wrapped around the back of your neck so you couldn’t get away.

“Bobby,” you sighed as you parted. “I can’t believe that didn't happen sooner.”

His smirk returned. “Timing is everything, darlin’.” You smiled at each other, and you gave him another peck on the lips. He peeked down at his watch. “Speaking of, I should get out of here before Natasha makes an appearance.”

Leaning back on the bed, you spread your legs before him. Bob stared directly at your still glistening lower lips. He pressed a final kiss between your legs before he stood to his full height. Not expecting that, you giggled. “A good night kiss for a pretty pussy.”

Your mouth was agape hearing him say pussy—you wanted to hear it again.

Quickly, he pulled his pants back up and tucked in his shirt. Bob cursed under his breath as he buttoned his shirt. You cocked your head waiting for him to explain. “I’m missing a button.”

You smiled and stood to help him. In a matter of minutes you had taken the lowest button, which would be tucked in his pants, and stitched it in place of the missing one. Standing in front of him, you smoothed his shirt and straightened his collar. “No one will ever know,” you confirmed.

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thank you.” You really wanted to tackled him into your bed and fuck him again, but you kept yourself in check.

“Anything for you, Bobby.” Your response was calculated and he knew it. Just as he was considering pushing you onto the bed for another round, the door flung open.

Natasha’s expression changed to surprise. “Bob!” She tossed her hands up and slipped into the room. Clearly, Nat was riding a great buzz. “What’re you doing here?” Curiosity came into her tone.

Bob’s signature crooked smile appeared. “I was looking for you to help with a button, but instead I stumbled upon your roommate. She saved the day.”

“Ahh, yes!” Natasha walked toward her bunk. “We would’ve enlisted her help anyway. She sews all my buttons and tears.”

“Good to know.” Bob eyed you as he spoke. “See you both in the mess hall for breakfast?” He walked toward the door.

“Yes! Good night, Bob!” Natasha gleefully said.

“Good night.” Your voice had a sing-song quality to it. Bob winked so only you could see.

“G’night!” He pulled the door shut behind him.

Nat barely managed to change before falling into bed. You slipped under your blankets. The next morning, you were up well before Nat to shower and take care of the remnants of last night’s deeds.

By the time she woke, your bed was made and you were in the mess hall with Bob sipping coffee. As she got ready, she noticed something on the floor—a button. Nat picked it up and realized it was from a uniform. Then it dawned on her.

A smirk carved her lips as she finished getting ready. It stayed as she walked down the hall and entered the mess. You saw her and waved to signal where you and Bob sat.

She barely acknowledged you as she strode over. Her gaze was locked on Bob as she said his name. Her voice was curt but bore no malice. They exchanged looks. Then, Natasha put two fingers on the table and slid something in front of Bob.

You both waited to see whatever tiny object was under her fingertips. Her hand pulled back and there lay Bob’s shirt button. Both you and Bob did your best to remain stoic.

“Figured this might be yours.” She paused, eyes boring into Bob’s. “Curious, that it’s in our room…” Natasha trailed off as she turned to head toward the food line.

Just the two of you, you and Bob exchanged looks. Putting your coffee cup to your lips, you shrugged as you sipped. “At least she passed the vibe check.” Bob chuckled and sipped his coffee.

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shygirl4991 · 4 months

Text

Coffee Prince and The Frog Prologue

A Collab with @lizaluvsthis and @alianarepasa

Art for this chapter cover included done by @alianarepasa Next Chapter Kid SMG3 and Family Reference by alianarepasa SMG4 and SMG3 Outfit Reference by Lizaluvsthis Summary: SMG3 is a busboy with a dream to run his own cafe, he slaves away at his friends restaurant in hopes to save enough to open his cafe. But when a talking frog named SMG4 asks for a kiss to break a curse placed on him, the two will end up going on a journey that will change their lives forever.

Tags: slow burn, inspired by Disney princess and the frog, love confessions, falling in love, animal transformation, adopted family relationship, fluff, angst, voodoo

In a mansion deep in the mushroom kingdom lives the Fungo family, a small rich family where twin boys lived with their father Bootleg and mother lady Rosea. A knock was heard echoing through the mansion late in the night. One of the servants runs to the door and opens it only to see a basket with a baby inside, she runs to grab the lord of the house. He steps outside and picks up the child confused, seeing the note tape to the blanket he reads it “SMG3? What a strange name for a child,” the baby's eyes open catching the man's attention. When his eyes met with the child's ruby red eyes it was over, he walked inside screaming to his wife “HONEY WE HAVE A NEW SON!” “WE WHAT!?” she yells back startled by the sudden news.

Nine years passed since then, the castle was shrouded in darkness as the lord of the house mourned the loss of his wife. He looked at the family photo and knew he had to be strong for his sons, the struggle was the youngest. Over time the twins Mario and Luigi started to act more like themselves, but that young boy he took in was becoming trouble. He walks around the house and notices black paint staining the floor, he sighs following it and catches the child painting his crown. “Three, what are you doing?” the child freezes as he slowly turns and gives him a smirk as he flashes his golden crown now with a skull on it “I was fixing my crown, gold is so lame but now look how awesome it looks!” He squints at his son before letting out a sigh “Three that crown just wont work, we come from an important family you can't just walk around with a skull on your crown!” SMG3 pouts cleaning up the extra paint on the crown then stares at the skull on it. After a few moments of thinking he placed it on his head “Then maybe i want to do my own thing! Mom always told me being different isn't bad.” Three gives his father a smile only to lose it when Bootleg snatches the crown from his head “I will get this cleaned, now get ready it's almost story time you know your brother hates to miss it.”

He watches his father walk away and sighs as he drags himself to Luigi’s room, seeing his younger brother Luigi pull Three in for a hug causing the younger sibling to panic and struggle to break free from the sudden affection. Luigi let's go giving a bright smile to him “Why so down?” “Dad didn't like my idea of adding a cool design to our crowns, what's wrong with wanting a skull on my crown! Ugh now he is going to read us gross love stories.” he groans sitting on the floor. He never cared for fairy tales; he rather sat down and read scary stories then listened to how some chick gave up her life for a dude she fell for to be happy with someone else. Luigi frowns “But love stories are amazing Three, the idea of going on some grand adventure with someone and falling for them how does that sound gross?” SMG3 lays on the floor staring at the green curtains thinking on how to explain to his brother.

“If I learn anything from these stories dad read us, romance is all flowers and sunshine you have to sacrifice everything for some random person cause oh no my heart skips a beat! Maybe go get checked by a doctor if your heart is doing that idiot!” Once he was done explaining he closed his eyes waiting for a reaction. His brother sighs sitting next to him “I think finding that certain someone is amazing, someone that just understands you where no one else can.”

It took Three everything in him to not make a sarcastic remark, he opened his eyes and stared at the door. His father was taking too long meaning that Mario found the stash of pasta in the mansion again, his older brother was never the same after eating spaghetti in that party they went to last week. All he ever talks about is how he wants more spaghetti then throws a tantrum if he doesn't get any, if anything would be a fun fairytale to read it be the love story with his brother and the food.

The door swings open revealing their father with Mario tied up behind him “Story time kids!” Mario shakes his head trying to worm himself away “NO THAT'S GAY!” their father sighs, picking up the child “Mario don't say things like that around Three!” “Too late my mind has been filled with so much i dont think Mario’s high IQ talk can save me,” he chuckles earning a glare from his father.

He drops Mario next to his siblings as he takes out a book “Today’s story is princess and the frog,” hearing the title Three gets up excited, he remembers how his mother used to read him the story before bed. He never did understand how throwing a frog to a wall helped break a curse but it worked so who was he to judge how magic works. His dad smiled at him, surprised to see the young one finally interested in a story, as he kept reading that excitement was draining from the child's face. Three was now laying on the floor asking for someone to take him away from the cringe, Luigi was in love with the story, and Mario was trying to eat the rope to break free.

“The ugly little frog looked up with sad, round eyes and pleaded ‘oh please, dear princess, only a kiss from you can break this terrible spell that was inflicted on me by a wicked witch!’ the beautiful princess was so moved by his desperate plea that she stooped down, picked up the slippery creature and kissed him!” He smiles at the kids to see their reaction. Luigi giggled at the sweet story while SMG3 sat there eyes wide at his father, Mario gave up on escaping and fell asleep during the story.

Luigi got up and hugged his dad. “That was an amazing story, I hope I meet my frog prince.” SMG3 shakes his head running up to his older brother “ARE YOU SERIOUS?! KISSING A FROG WHAT IF YOU GET WARTS!" Three stare’s with disgust. Luigi shakes his head "Frogs don't give warts three," he turns to his brother "DOES SHE KNOW THAT?"

Luigi giggles at his brother's panic and pulls him into a hug “When it comes to love why not take that risk! Maybe you will get it when you meet your frog prince and or princess!” SMG3 blushes trying to escape the hug, the thought of kissing a frog grossed him out and had no idea why his brother wanted to curse him with a frog. Their father chuckles, “Hey the princess won at the end the frog became a handsome prince!”

Finally free from the hug Three glares at his father “Yeah cause man i just met that was a frog a second ago really yells marriage material!” Bootleg sighs slamming the book shut “When you hit your twenties i expect you to change that tone!” SMG3 pouts at his fathers stern tone before they all get told to go to bed. Mario cheers being set free and runs off full speed on the hunt, Bootleg sighs as he starts to chase after Mario. SMG3 waves goodbye at his brother before heading to his room, changing into his skull pj’s he hops into bed and smiles softly at his frog plush “Oh Terrance, when will dad get that these fairytales are so lame! You know…mom understood,” he hears a bark making him sit up and squeal “Come here!” a small egg shaped dog jumps into Three’s arms excitedly. He loves his brother’s but there is nothing more comforting than a cuddle session with Eggdog.

Slowly he falls asleep with Eggdog in his arms not hearing the door to his room open, Mario looks around and sneaks in, taking SMG3 plushie and running out of the room giggling. The door slams, waking Three up, he looks around the room with Eggdog and notices his plushie missing “What?” Mario was giggling as he thought of a perfect prank to do to his twin, since his brother was so into kissing frogs he was going to get his brother to kiss the frog plushie. The twist is he will have put hot sauce on the lips of the plushie, he keeps sneaking down the hallway till he hears barking. Turning around his eyes go wide seeing SMG3 charging down the hallway “HEY! LEAVE TERRANCE ALONE!” Mario takes a step back before running away from Three.

Three growls as he charges at his older brother “Give him back!” Eggdog catches up biting Mario’s pants, in one swift movement Three grabs the arm of the plushie. SMG3 glares at Mario “LET GO MARIO YOUR GONNA BREAK IT YOU IDIOT!” Then it happens, the arm starts to tear causing Three’s eyes to go wide. Before he has a chance to let go the arm of the frog plush arm rips off, SMG3 falls to his knees with the arm in his hands. His eyes start to water causing Mario to panic “Mario can fix it look!” He takes the arm from Three and tries to shove the arm back into the plush. His attempt to fix the plushie only broke it more, seeing this Three break into tears “I HATE YOU MARIO!”

Panicking he runs and grabs his twin “LUIGI! SMG3 IS CRYING HELP!” Luigi sees the broken plush and pulls three for a hug “It’s okay Three dad can buy you a new one.” Hearing this, Three pulled away and wiped his tears glaring at his older brother “I don't want a new one! HE IS MY BEST FRIEND WHY DO YOU ALL THINK BUYING STUFF FIXES EVERYTHING!” he grabs his broken plushie and runs off to his room crying.

He sits on his bed wiping his tears, there had to be a way to fix his buddy. He sniffs as he thinks to himself, he walks to a drawer and gets tape “It’s okay Terrance i will fix ya buddy, Eggdog guard the door and don't let those people in.” Bootleg runs out of his room to see two of his sons panicking in the hallway, he pinches the bridge of his nose before calming them down. “Okay you two why are you freaking out in the hallway..did Mario do the pasta prank again?” He looks at his two kids. They go silent and seem scared, slowly he turns looking at the black door down the hallway “What did you two do to Three?” The twins both start speaking at the same time explaining what happened to the plushie making the man sigh as he walks over to Three’s room.

He knocks on the door, Eggdog starts barking letting the child know someone was there annoyed he finishes taping the arm back on to his plushie. He then opens the door surprised to see his father “Heard about Terrance, you know son i have told you before that broken things are better off replaced but since this is Terrance i will get someone to fix him.” SMG3 looks up at his father with excitement “REALLY!?” Bootleg chuckles and pats his son's head “Yes, and I think you're old enough to finally pick your family hat, I'm thinking purple letter T?”

Three pouts “No..that's lame i'm not like Mario and Luigi, can i just finally pick something thats…me?” Bootleg wasnt a fan of that idea knowing what the child might pick. After some thought he nods, Three jumps in excitement and hugs his father.

The next day SMG3 dressed up making sure his vest was on right, they all stood together for a family portrait before heading out. Three was excited to pick out his hat, as far as he knows the families that have any kind of royal connections get a hat that they wear till the moment they get married and get a crown as a replacement. He didn't care so much about the crown, but the idea of having a hat made for him and no one can say anything about it excited him. That was till they arrived and all he was shown were classy hats that looked too fancy for his taste, he turned looking at his older brothers wearing their hats and frowns.

He sighs walking around the shop when he notices a halloween section, where his eyes meet with a purple cap with a skull on a black background on it. He picks it up and puts it on his head, he runs off to his father showing the hat “I found it! My forever hat!” His father frowns seeing the skull on it “You…sure?” He gave a bright smile to his father, unable to say no to the smile he walked up to the cashiers and bought the hat. Three hugs his dad “I love you dad!” Bootleg chuckles hugging his son back. What they didn't know was this year was the last year SMG3 and his father would be this close.

Twelve years later The alarm rings, a now twenty one year old SMG3 smacks it off and gets out of bed. He picks up his hair in a ponytail and washes his face, after brushing his teeth he puts on his casual wear, can never beat the classic overall look. He gives a quick smooch to Eggdog as he dashes into the kitchen to grab something fast to eat. Mario was already deep into his spaghetti while Luigi was waiting at the table to hand his brother his lunch for work. Three dashes into the kitchen and takes the lunch “Thanks, and Bootleg doesn't know where I'm working yet right? I need to warn my friends soon about him ugh.” Luigi giggles, giving Three a small pat. “He acts the way he does because you are so much like mom, he is worried you might get in trouble.”

SMG3 rolls his eyes “The only thing that asshole cares about is marrying us off, no thank you! Now work calls later losers!” He gives his brothers a peace sign before leaving the mansion, he shivers slightly feeling the wind. He didn't mind feeling the cold after all he got to pick what to wear, not his overbearing father, he starts his walk to work humming to himself his favorite song from the beetlejuice musical. He pauses when he sees a crowd of women cheering excitedly, turning his head he sees a fancy ship was arriving “Oh yeah, that idiot prince is coming over ugh great these fangirls are going to make me late!” he looks around and chuckles as he lights a small firework that was in his pocket and tossed it. The firework then lands on a fire hydrant exploding and breaking it causing the water to splash on the crowd, he laughs seeing everyone running from the water worried about their makeup. Some of the women notice him and glare “Of course you would do this Three, why do you always have to bother us!?”

SMG3 shrugs “I don't know Belle, why don't you start using waterproof eye liner like I do,” she flips him off in which he returns the favor as he runs off to work. As he arrives Bob smacks his back “ABOUT TIME THE BOSS HAS BEEN BITCHING ABOUT YOU.” Three frowns as he looks at the back room, slowly he approaches and sees no one there but a frog toy. He picks up the toy to hear Bob laughing behind him “GET PRANKED! HEARD A RUMOR YOU HAVE A THING FOR FROGS!” SMG3 turns and tosses the toy at Bob “Countdown from five cause I'm going to kick your ass!”

In a panic bob runs out of the room leaving Three alone, he sighs and sits on the couch “Thanks Luigi for telling people about our dad always reading that stupid story,” he takes out a piece of paper and unfolds it to reveal a drawing he did of a cafe “Remember why your doing this Three, we will own our dream cafe and no one can stop us. We will earn this, I will never accept his help.” His eyes drop to the frog toy in front of him and chuckles “And I don't need to kiss any frogs either!” with that he gets up and gets ready for work.

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