#god he's such a loser i love him dearly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orionlain · 11 months

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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟: link

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 summary: a tug of war for your affection, between the aftons.

𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞? 𝐍𝐨, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

How long has it been since he felt your soft body? How long has it been since he traced his calloused fingers against your thighs? How long has it been since he tasted your lips, the lips that fulfilled his hunger? It's been months. But it felt like ages, it felt like centuries to him.

You were so busy, after all, it's your last year of high school. You barely had time to see him, you barely even had time to go to the house. You were so caught up in your studies, so caught up in excelling school that you left the poor old man bothered and wanting. He dreamed of you every night, he replays that memory of you whining beneath him every time he’s alone. For months, you unintentionally made the man more ravenous. And god, you may be the only person that makes him weak.

Other than thinking and craving you, he fulfilled his time with, of course, work. And drinking. And smoking. And berating Michael. His workshop in the basement was hardly ventilated, it smelled like the wisp of smoke and whiskey if you step in. He continues to work with the hinges, the metal parts and the screws. The tools in his hands work like a magic wand as he twists and turns the unfinished animatronics. He was lost in his work, in his creations, in his thoughts about you and your— his son's voice echoed above him.

“Michael, can you shut up will you?” He groaned loudly. As usual his ‘brat’ did not care for his pleas. Out of irritation, he got up from his desk and workshop. He went up the stairs, and the surroundings danced with the thump of his steps.

“Oh for the love of god. Michael, did you hear me, you damn-” He cuts off.

“Uh, Hi. Nice to see you again, Mr. Afton.” How much he missed your voice.

His face immediately softens. Oh, how much he missed your vanilla scent. He could see you in your whole glory. You were in a white sweater which draped on your shoulders, with a brown flowy skirt covering your bottom. Shoes that were creased, had freckles of dirt, but he didn’t mind, not at all. At that moment, thousands of thoughts ran in his mind. How much he wanted to grab you and—

“Father. Are you just gonna stand there and stare? Say hi.” Michael’s blunt tone snapped him out in a second.

“Where's my manners!” He brushes off and smirks. Puts on his most charismatic smile, he walks up and his figure towered over you. He held his hand, for you to shake. The same hand that made you moan. You clear your throat and shake his hand, he could feel your delicate gentle touch, one that he missed dearly.

“It’s good to see you again, darling,” There's that pet name again.

“It really is.. I’m so sorry I haven’t visited for a while.” You uttered, flashing that same smile he always loved. “I’ve been working really hard in school. Didn’t have the time to visit the house, however I’m still talking to Michael-” You cut off, when Michael grabs you by the waist, his hand holding the side of your body. You laughed and pushed him away. “Stop! I’m trying to talk to your dad!”

“Oh c’mon, love, hearing you chat to that old man makes my eyes all droop. Won't you just come to my room already, loser?” Mike whined in a playful tone, with mischief. The older man looked at his son, with a grin, a sore fake grin. William didn’t say a word, but his dark smile went along with the words of: ‘My, my, son, you’ve gotten so bold.’

Bold. He fucking hated that. How he wishes his blood was dumb and stupid, but of course he had to inherit his father's genes. To know every, single, damn, thing. To be so clever to Williams' charm and insincere smile. His son never knew what truly happened, but he was quite perceiving. Sometimes Michael would look at his father with a stare filled with thousands of words and disdain. Sometimes Michael had the blood of competitiveness running through, when he sees you and his old man talking. Like father and son, they say. And with you, it was definitely; like father, like son.

The glint in William's eyes was clear. You didn’t notice though, of course you don’t notice. After all, his honey words were always believable to you, but how he wished this time you noticed. He wished this time you could see that glare, that speaks of how much you were his. But of course you didn’t, and that infuriated him. You were too innocent, which is fine, you were malleable and he could mold into the perfect wife. However, you were malleable, and Michael could easily mold you into a girlfriend. That thought made him infuriated. You made him infuriated.

Yet, you turned to William and smiled. A warm and friendly smile, with that pretty face and pretty hair. No, no, he can’t stay mad at you. How could he? You had a smile that could rival any woman in the bar. You had eyes, so doe, you looked like a little bunny. And that body of yours, oh, how could he stay mad at that?

“I’ll be here for the night, Mr. Afton, is that okay?” Still sweet as he remembered.

“Oh darling. You are always welcomed here.”

———————————————————

The summer heat glistened upon your skin, shining upon every ripple you had. Your eyes sparkled beneath the sun, and you wore a purple swimsuit. Purple? Were you trying to kill him? You didn’t know that was his favorite color though.

Your body rests on top of a beach chair with lavender stripes, sitting in front of the pool of the Afton’s backyard. Turning your head to Michael who was wearing red swim shorts, seeming to be staring blankly, with his walkman cassette player in his ears.

“Mike.” He didn’t respond. You snapped your fingers at him, “I said, Mike!”

“Wha- what?” He took his headphones off. You turn your body to face him, looking at him like an investigator. You pointed at his ear looking quizzically. “Is that.. A piercing?” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, with his eyes turning into a smug look. He giggled, almost school-boy sounding. “Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Mike!?” He only continued to laugh, holding the cassette close to his chest for stability. He wipes the tears off his eyes. “Hey, it’s not that bad is it?”

You shake your head, laughing a little as you facepalm. Sometimes you never knew Michael was up to, smoking, drinking, vandalizing, you couldn’t tell. He would go weeks without telling you something, or he’d come back after an hour and tell you immediately. There was always something unpredictable about that boy. But you digress, you find his antics amusing and funny.

“What would your dad think?”

“Oh c’mon! It's just a stud in my damn ear!” You look at him even more puzzled. “But- but how did you-”

“In the bathroom.”

“The bathroom!?” You perk up more, now sitting up from your seat. He looked at you, with a smirk, “I was with my mate, Jeremy. I was under some bridge in the middle of who knows what. He got a bowl of hot water, with the sewing needle. And then, womp, pierce my ear by pushing the needle in.” Your mouth went a little agape. You two sat there in silence. Until you burst out laughing.

“Christ, Mike!” You laughed, holding your stomach. “Shush, don’t tell my old man-”

“Tell him what?” You and Michael turn your back to William, hovering over you guys like a hawk. Was he always there? Mike rolled his eyes, his face turning into a more sour expression. He lifted his hands and shrugged up in a surrender.

“Nothin!” He said with a mocking tone, a light smirk. You continue to giggle, but it turns out to be a more silent, hiding one. You looked at the father with a smile, “Hi, Mr. Afton!”

You were always much more polite than him, he thought. Much, much more polite. William put his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing it up and down. Your face flushed a little, and your body froze a bit. That touch reminded you back to the memory of his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrist, grabbing you to his chest. That touch reminded you back to the time where he held your face as he put his leg between your thighs. That touch. William had to hold back a chuckle and a grin as he looked at you. Michael, on the other hand, gave his father a funny look.

“What did you say, Michael?” He continued to interrogate.

“I said, nothing. None of your business.” The boy spat back. “No, no, no. Something about a piercing, hm?” You look at their back and forth. Back to Willams’ hand on your shoulder and his face hovering over you, to Michael's annoyed expression and his body in front of you.

“Yeah. A piercing, so?” Williams' chuckle laced with anger and poison could be heard in response to that. “Did I ever say you can have one, boy?”

“What's the big deal about it? Henry told me you were a bit of a frivolous man back in your college years. Why can’t I be ‘frivolous?” He said ‘frivolous’ with his hand making air-quotes, his father raising an irritated brow. “Boot-cut jeans, disco collars, and lots, lots of ladies. I know you’re not just a serious and stuck up man. Please, your dorm room was filled with the moans of-”

“Bloody christ, just check on Evan and Elizabeth for me, can you?” He said in a loud tone, with his fake smile twitching. Michael stood up sighing and groaning loudly, and before he made his departure, he ruffled your hair. Leaving the walkman on the beach chair beside you. You knew a little that they never had a great relationship, but god, did that make you feel uncomfortable. It was as if the tension was tied around your neck like a tug of war. Never once did they swear or yell, but it almost felt like they did. So many words beneath a sentence, hidden by a smile that felt taunting. You had an awkward look on your face, as you saw Michael walk away, staring blankly wishing you knew more what's hiding behind the clear passive aggressiveness between the two. How you wish you knew why there was so much hostility between them. You were lost in thought, but you immediately felt the grip on your shoulder tighten.

You look up, your wide eyes facing William as you bend your neck a little. “Hello, darling.” He said with a smooth baritone in his accented voice. You could never get over how attractive he sounded. As you face him, you take a full look at him. His torso covered in a purple short sleeved dress shirt, you could see the edge of his skin, the springlock marks that traveled on his chest and neck. He could see you take a peak, he grinned a little.

“My son, always a troublemaker, isn’t he?” He laughed afterwards, playing it off with an innocent dismissive hand wave. “Always been a pain in my ass.” He chuckled, saying it like a joke, but his piercing glare and smirk said otherwise. He looks at you now, but with a bit of a less harsh look. “How’s it been?”

You stared at him, that grip on your shoulder not getting any looser. You giggled, and rubbed the back of your neck. “Ah, busy. Sorry I haven’t, uh, visit you.. I was so caught up in my studies, Mr. Afton.” You said softly, while looking at the poolside, staring at the glistening shine of the water. Hearing the laughter of the three siblings, as you fiddled with the straps of your purple swimsuit. “Thought you forgot about me, love.” He says, with a teasing tone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Nono- I didn’t forget about you-” You babbled nervously with your words, but he put his finger to his lips, making a shushing sound. “I’m messing with you, doll. I knew you were just being a good student and studying. Unlike a certain boy I know.” He laughed, but then his eyes went down onto you. “You wouldn’t forget me, not after the time we had.” A heat went down your cheeks.

He bent down to your level, playing with the lavender straps of your swimwear. “Besides, darling, you know I can’t be mad at you.” Humming as he stares at your pretty face. “You’re such a good girl, you know?”, he hushed. His breath close to your neck, his voice warm to your ears. You felt your heart beat faster, as your eyes widened.

“And lord, that bikini looks ravishing on you.” He whispered.

Then he stood back up. His palm on your shoulder becomes much looser. He gave you a pat on the shoulder, and turned his back from you. Giving you a single small wave as he walks away, and leaving you on the beach chair utterly flustered and bothered. He just leaves, and goes back fixing Elizabeth's inflatable toy. Why does he do this to you? Why does he tease and leave you such a mess? The butterflies tighten even more around your stomach, the space in your throat all choked up. And there he is, musing to himself as if he didn’t whisper such things to you. The only semblance of his vulgarity, is his stare from across the pool, that went from your thighs to your chest to your face. It was shameless. You knew it. And he knew it.

“Hey, loser!” Micheals shout rings into your ears, and you snap out of it. He quickly grabs your hand closer to the pool with a playful grin, “C’mon, you can’t just sit there all day.”

“Mike- jeez!” You chuckled softly, and soon Michael wrapped his arms around your arm. He shoves you into the pool with him, both of you falling into the body of water, splashing onto the poolside. Some of the water went onto the younger siblings body, a giggle and whine ensued on them. Most of it, though, flew onto the older man. An irritated smirk formed onto his face, as he swept the water off his hair. You all were in a fit of laughter. But with Michael around you, William hid in a fit of rage. However, he shaked his head and kept a fake smile, continuing to fix Elizabeth's plastic blow-up toy. “Brat.” He mumbled.

You then reached out of the two younger kids, waving your hand to them, a gentle smile on your face. Evan reached the pool slowly, tipping his toes into the water as you gave him a cheer of encouragement. Elizabeth, on the other hand, dived into the tube around her torso, splashing onto your face. “Liz, my goodness!” Your laughter echoed into the backyard as the water ran through your hair, you held her hand as she paddled through the swimming pool. Michael looked at you as you talked to her, to his brother, his smug grin turning into a soft smile. Eyeing you with a look of enderament. Floating in the pool, watching you, admiring you.

“Michael.” The blunt voice called out, the boy turns his head to the older man. “Keep an eye on your siblings. Have fun with your ‘girlfriend’, son.” He chuckled and crossed his arms, the word ‘girlfriend’ sounded almost laced with poison.

“I will.” The boy gave out a passive-aggressive smile

____________________________________

Your hand digging into the bowl of caramel popcorn on the small patio table, stuffing your face full of it. You had a towel on top of your back, as you held your legs into your body. Michael rested upon his chair, staring into the sunset that fell beneath the picket fences in front of you both. His hand was also filled with popcorn, and devoured it quickly. While Liz and Evan had passed out, sleeping on the hammocks. Besides you, was some rickety boombox playing “Boys Don’t Cry” which played with a mild noise while you two rested upon the chairs. You looked at Michael, his face always reminding you of the time that his dad revealed his secret. Where you find out Mike had a crush on you. You hadn’t confronted him about it, you were too awkward to do so.

You both sat there silent. Till you broke the ice. “So.. remember that sleepover where I helped you with homework? Can you tell me why you were late with the teacher?” Michael immediately coughed up his popcorn, and sat up.

“Didn’t I tell you she got her panties in a twist?” He said with a dismissive wave. You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah I know, but that's not it, is it?”

He paused for a moment, and sighed, he put his head to the side in a somber tone. Your face softens and you give him a look of sympathy. Tilting your head to the boy beside you. “You know, you can tell me, right? That's what best friends are for.” He groans and shakes his head in a sad smile, but he gives in.

“Bout my grades.” He uttered. “I mean, it's no big surprise, since I’m quite the hassle to deal with. Bound to have shit grades.”

“But uh..” He took a moment and continued on, “Teacher came up to me and the first time I wasn’t getting yelled at. She went up to me and was like: what's home like?” He stared into the sunset slowly fading into the horizon, the red and the purples mixing with one another.

“First time I was ever vulnerable.” He turned his head and looked at you, with an awkward look on his face.

“Don’t like home. It’s not warm.” He didn’t further elaborate on that.

You sighed, but smiled at Mike. Patting him on the back with your gentle and dainty touch. You run it back and forth, giving him a bit of warmth. His eyes immediately lightened up, and he laughed. His mood, lifting up just from your hands. “I have a lot of friends. Yet, a nerd like you takes the cake.” He says, with an amused tone, you chuckled in response. “I know. But I hope you know this nerd is always here to listen.” You said, he scoffs but it was clear he smiled softly.

Another silence goes between you two.Then you’ve curiously look at him, “Are you still with Sarah?” He gave a cringed expression on his face and ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous manner. “Ehh..”

“Are you serious? This is the second girl of the month.” You pestered, scolding him with a baffled smile on your face. “It just didn’t work out, alright! It's ok— I mean, she moved on fast. Saw her with a guy the next day.”

You facepalm and shake your head. “What’s your type anyways?” Oops! You shut your mouth instantly, knowing you slipped out a stupid obvious question. You already knew Michael liked you, ever since William revealed his secret in the last sleepover. Yet, here you are beating around the bush. Cringing at yourself, wishing you had confronted Michael earlier if he had a crush on you or not. But it can’t be, right? Every girl in your guys’ highschool had the hots for your best friend. There was not a chance, right? You can’t ask that question. How would you put it into words that weren’t an awkward jumbled mess?

“Eh.. man I don’t know.” He answered plainly, and he was silent afterwards. Until he abruptly said, “A nice girl.”

“A nice girl?” You tilt your head at his answer. He rolled his eyes at you with a bit of a chuckle that left his mouth. “Yeah, I mean, what? What did you expect?”

“Well.. I just, you know. I thought there may be more.” You responded, shrugging your arms. You continued on, “I mean most guys give you a list of what they want in a girl.”

“What? You thought I'd give you a list?” He laughs, now putting a piece of bubblegum into his mouth. “Sure. I wouldn’t mind if she's hot, then I got something to ogle at. But.. a nice girl is– well nice. I wouldn’t even mind if this girl was a bit of a geek.” He responded, chewing the gum in his mouth.

“So you would go out with a nerd.?” You looked at him, raising your brow. “I guess.”

You giggled at his response, holding your stomach a little. “I can’t imagine it!” You mutter in between your laughter, while Michael turns his head and lets out a huff. Crossing his arms, while he rolled his eyes again. “Piss off, cunt.” He nudges at you playfully. But he quickly retreats back on laying on his chair, and gives a small sigh.

“Sometimes you remind me of my mum.” He says quietly, but you still hear his sentence. You still laughed, but it was slowly dying out as you saw Michaels gaze. Filled with admiration. You both stare at each other for a moment. Not a single word coming out of your mouth. Not a single noise between you two. But just from his stare, you could feel yourself becoming a bit rosy. You had the chance to say something, and break the tension, confront him about if he has feelings for you—

He stood up, and dusted off his swimsuit shorts. “I think I’m gonna clean up now.” He sighs, while stretching his back a little. He then went towards his younger siblings on the hammock, shaking them a little. “C’mon time to wake up. Or else father’s gonna be all up in my ass again.” Aggravated, pushing them a little. The two wake up all groggily, dragging their feet on the ground as Evan went back into the house trailing his bear plushie on the ground, while Elizabeth rubbed her eyes with her arm as she mumbled an insult towards her older brother.

Michael looks back at you, as you were sitting on the chair. He puts his hand on the top of your hair, ruffling a little. You groaned as he does while he pops his bubblegum. The boy leans toward you a little, and gives you a small smile, gentle and soft. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He says, and plants a kiss on your cheek. He then faced away from you, but you could see a red tint on his face.

Your best friend then goes back into the house. While you sat on the beach chair, taken aback. Mouth agape. Did he just blush? Did he just kiss you, on your cheek?

But before you could fully grasp what happened, you felt a tug on your strap. You gazed at the movement, and soon enough you felt the familiar touch on you. “Darling.” That pet name, which is all so memorable to you. You see the older man, who is suddenly behind you. His steps and body are so quiet, it almost made you think of how he’s so fit for a criminal. You quickly sit up from his presence, as if he commands you to pay attention to him. You look at him, bug-eyed. “Yes?” You bumbled with your response. He always found it so cute that you were always so nervous around him. A fawn so delicate and fragile, a bunny so tense and afraid.

He circled around you like a shark, putting his two fingers around his shoulder, you felt a shiver running down your spine. Only until now, you realize how uneasy he made you feel. You could almost feel your hands slightly tremble. He gazed at you like some wolf waiting to feast on a lamb, like some fruit waiting to be opened and tasted. An uncomfortable silent pause before he says his next word, he then bends down to your chair facing you eye to eye. His gray eyes pierced right through, but oh, he had such a gentle grin on his face. It was so contradictory. His smile was so sweet, yet his eyes and cold touch on your shoulder said less. It lured you right in.

Most people, when you look into their eyes– there would be a bit of a sparkle of light. You found nothing but an empty pupil. Although, it didn’t feel intimidating. Yet. “Still looking pretty as ever.” He traced his thumb on your face, while you sat there silently, helpless.

“Uhm. Thank you, Mr. Afton.” You responded, as a way to fill the silence, to fill that restless feeling in you. You didn’t bother to look away and turn your face to the side, you fear something bad will happen if you do. “Darling.. Would you mind if I ask a question?” He asked, but it’s almost like he would still inquire if you said no. You shake your head, signing to go ahead.

“Do you like Michael?” He asked, still rubbing his thumb on your cheek. You paused at first, “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” He repeated, and chuckled. But that chuckle was unnerving. He still traced his thumb over your cheek but more slowly this time. Almost tauntingly. “Yeah I don’t think.. I do.” You said, but then your eyes went towards the house.

“Are you sure?” William teased, but it hid a dark intention behind his words.

You look at Michael, seeing him through the window. He was watching TV, while bothering his little brother. He looked alot alike to his father, but much more softer. His skin is more tanner, his face less hollower. His hair messy, unstyled and spiked cuffs around his wrist, his usual jean jacket around his body. He had eyebags, just like William but it wasn’t so sunken. He had more of a boyish look to him, amateurish and juvenille. You can admit, he was good looking. He was attractive, even. And he's alway been nice to you, always been more softer with you than anyone else around him. And he’s always been sweet, always had a laugh that made you smile.

He was good to you, good for you, maybe you do like– “Look at me.” You then felt your face forcefully grabbed. Your cheeks almost squeezed, as your eyes squint in pain. William's eyes were harsh, even cruel looking as he stared into you. “Don’t look at him, look at me.”

“I said. Don’t look at him. Look at me.” You immediately complied, and gazed at him back. Your breath almost caught up in your throat, and your eyes all nervous and wide. He had a scowl on his face. “Do I have to repeat myself, hm?” He said, a tone laced with malice.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He put a finger near your lips, in a shushing motion. “Listen here darling. I know, I know, Michael is your best friend. But I don’t think he's good for you.” He says, honey-like, his words soothing and smooth. There was a glint in his eyes as he said it.

His finger then traced down to your throat, and softly tugged at the ribbon of your lilac swimsuit between your cleavage. He was playing with it. Teasing it. “He’s not good for you.. No, no, no, not at all. I don’t want your soft little heart broken, it’s not meant for a harsh boy like him.” He tutted. “He’ll use you.. You know how teenage boys are.” He said it like a fact.

“Will you believe me, sweetheart?” He patted your cheek, in such a sickly sweet manner. “Will you believe me, when I say he's no good for you?” You paused before you spoke, but his words sounded so genuine, so heartfelt. You nodded your head softly. Still so malleable, how he loved that.

“That's right. What a good girl.” He hummed from your response. “Now, I think it’s time for you to get cleaned up. Hm?”

“Yes. Mr. Afton..” You responded, and he chuckled a little from how quiet and nervous your pretty voice sounded. His scowl turned into his usual polite smile. He then took your hand and made you stand up on the ground, drying the wet hair with a towel. Patting you on the back, as he moves you back into the house. How easy.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton #william afton x you #michael afton #michael afton x reader #fanfic #william afton x reader

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vanrougenui · 1 month

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the mischaracterization of idia shroud should be NO must be studied under the microscope because its absolutely crazy

these so called 'idia fans' have such unbelieveable takes about the poor boy i feel disgusted

the issue with a big portion of the twst fandom is that you guys are illiterate obvious things about the characters just goes over the heads of some of you

most people dont reach book 6 to read it and they dont read card stories properly OR at all idk and just base their views and opinions of the character they like from things they have seen on internet from like one glance and thats it

twisted wonderland characters are so multifaceted, so well written. they have so many things about them, complex backstories and personalities that people just choose to ignore and base their perception of them on outdated tropes and clichés

this not only affects idia but every character in the game but i noticed it the most with idia which baffles me because book 6 does such a good job at developing him as a character. we see how he is, his relationship with ortho, how he is ready to give up everything for something he loves so dearly, yet the fandom just reduces him to some 'perverted otaku creep' thats is just bewildering i am so perplexed with this

idia is someone who has a big heart. yes, he is a shut in loser who cant get close to people and struggles with human connections but can you blame him? he knows his fate, he knows he will have to deal with something that was not up to him to decide. in his childhood he lost the very person that he loved the most and made him happy, yet he blamed himself for it, while he was just a curious child who grew up in a secluded environment. he wanted to be the hero to his younger brother but he lost him and was never able to get over the guilt of that. and you guys call this guy a pervert? okay, when in the story does he act like a pervert then? HE DOESNT YEAH.

these weird fetishes people like to have really harm the characters. by just reading the vignettes you can learn so much about the characters, while most of you guys just come up with most insincere phony claims about them. okay you might not have the card to read it (which is a lame excuse everything is on the internet if you want to you can find it and read it) and yes going through the main story can be hard (which is also a lame ass excuse if you level up cards and can pass everything very easily) BUT LIKE THE EVENTS EXIST they dont require shit all you have to do is prettily sit and read and do lessons which is the bare minimum.

i think many of you just forget that twisted wonderland is a visual novel where you have to read dialouges yeah? and not just look at the character and say 'OH YOU I KNOW YOU ARE AN IDIOT AND YOU YOU WILL BE THE CREEPY YANDERE' stop that because of you guys people who get into this game just develop wrong opinions on characters.

dont get me started on fanfiction that mischaracterizes everyone...

i will not say no more this already ended up way too long and for your own good dont mischaractrize the twst characters or i might show up in your at 3am god knows

#twisted wonderland #twst disney #twst #ignyhide #twst characters #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #idia shroud #ortho shroud #twst ortho #twst book 6 #I HATE EVERY WHO MISCHARACTERIZES THE CAST #i am done

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kombuuuu · 1 year

Note

yo could you do some domestic spot fluff???? asking for a friend (lie)

Spotty dog?

Spot x Gen!Reader

“This feels demeaning.” “It’s not! Look he’s cute!”

hes so adorable h my god. 101 dalmatian coded fr

June 28th — Your lovers birthday, and two days away. You woke this morning with a determination you knew both you and him held. To out-do your your last gift. Last Christmas, you had thought you'd won. Showing up to your shared home with a pair of matching shirts — reading "I ♡ My Boyfriend" and one equally matching for him.

Along with a multitude of other small things — all sentimental to your relationship. Like the mug that said "No.1 Bad Guy." or a card detailing how he would never just be the "Villain of the week."

But when he'd pulled out matching crocs, with Jibbitz of a goofy looking Dalmatian for him and a cute Bunny for you?

You had resigned as Loser for the months to come. Not without a cheering victory from your Spotty lover. Now though? A thought had been brewing for months— one that would never make you loser of the gifts ever again. What could possibly out-do a man willing to wear crocs branded with a staple of you on them? And a goofy looking bucket hat with your silly matching shirts?

A dog.

Something he's wanted for a while now, something to take care of. He'd lost everything, his friends, his family. With that much gone, he'd clung to you like a lost child. Mourning the losses he'd faced while cherishing his moments with you — feeling a constant sense of peril when faced with the fact that he *could just lose you too. He wouldn't, though. You would never do that to him. You loved him too dearly to cause him that pain.

—

You watched him slip on a blue coat over his "totally regular civilian" clothes. The complaint leaving his mouth going on deaf ears. He slipped on his left shoe, jumping a bit and tripping over himself before steadying himself on a coffee table. "Do we really have to go out today?—" His face-spot downturned, like a sad puppy.

",—Can't we just sit in and cuddle? We could watch Mean Girls and i'll make the hot chocolate you really like!" "Baby." He whined, Spot rolling into a displeased frown. "Where are we even—" "—Ask one more time." He snorted, pulling his last shoe on and tucking in the laces, then going up to you and leaning down to give your forehead a kiss. "Ready?"

He right about swooned at your domestic tone, admiring the way the softened gold lights highlighted your features. You were everything to him, and just the knowledge you loved him back had him tripping over himself. Falling through spots at the sight of you. "Yeah."

—

Jonn swayed as the bus came to a stop, avidly ignoring the curious glances given by other patrons, and focusing more on holding onto you.

"I'm gonna fall over!" "Maybe if you held the bar, and not me." He looked up at you from his waist bent position, arms wrapped securely around your abdomen, clinging onto you like you were the only person there.

"I don't need another lover baby, you're right here." "It's a pole, John." "And I am a faithful man." You giggled lightly at him and wrapped your free arm around him tighter.

—

"Just step off." "It's high!" John stuttered out his reply, dipping his foot down like he was testing pool water. 'I'll just—" He turned around, opening a spot and crawling through it and popping up again next to you. The bus driver gawked at you, paler than the villain walking Brighton's street.

You mouthed a 'sorry' to the poor lady, and grabbed your boyfriends hand, dragging him towards the street of your subject.

"You gonna tell me where we're going yet?" He trailed behind you, getting pulled by his left hand, and tripping over his own feet. Moving in that clumsy kind of dorkiness. 'Nuh uh."

His spot slanted at you, deadpanning. "You're being mysterious— I don't like it."

You side-eyed him, grinning in a glare. "I think it's part of the charm." He dragged his spindly legs farther forward, stepping in front of you and gathering your joined hand against his chest. He walked backwards with you, and his spot widened again. You smiled up at him, continuing on with walking, and waited for him to complain once more.

You hadn't have to wait long. "Are you sure you can't—" "We're here." He stopped walking when you did, spot slanting when he surveyed the shops and stalls around him, trying to read the signs. "a café date?—," He chuckled lightly, chest heaving lightly "'—You know you could have—"

"Not there, baby." You flexed your hands into his, he let one of his drop, and linked your fingers with his— squeezing your palm in interest.

You turned towards the animal rescue centre, giving your lover a mischievous grin and stepped beside him to open the door.

—

The spotted dalmatian looked up at you, glossy and doe eyed.

You cooed at it through the glass, the puppy wagging it's tail at the high pitched voice you were giving him.

"How come you never talk to me like that?" Your boyfriend had his hands on your shoulders, leaning on your crouched form and looking down at the small dog below him.

"Do you want me to?" You watched his reflection through the glass as he contemplated, spot shifting forms until it settled on a stretched thin line. "No." You snorted and continued sweet talking the puppy.

The dog-keeper smiled happily at the interaction between you and the small puppy.

"Would you like to take him outside?"

You turned your head towards her and nodded your head, sounding a pretty please — you put your hands on your knees and pushed up, standing straight again.

You turned to your lover, standing up on your toes, you smoothed your hands over his cheeks and giving his nose a little kiss.

"This feels demeaning." He pouted at you, hands grabbing at your coat.

You giggled lightly, resting the side of your face on his chest.

"It's not!," you gestured to the adorable puppy ",Look he's cute!"

John considered the tiny dog, slacking a bit under you, and conceding. "Yeah, yeah— whatever." You jumped up and gave his jaw a quick peck. "Exactly!"

You ran towards the back door, leading to the puppy playground.

Your lover called out to you— "I better still be your favourite Spot!"

"My number one, baby!" You called back.

He huffed despite his spot melting into a heart.

—

Two days later, when he woke up to a plethora of silly gifts, topped with adoption papers and a pink bow — He begrudgingly gave away his title.

—

+ bonus!!!

"You're just the most handsome spotty boy, aren't 'ya!" A squealing voice followed by a small 'ruff' caught your attention. You closed the door softly, and sneakily dropped your keys in the bowl, and snuck into your living room.

The sight of your loving husband cradling the puppy to his chest as he danced to an unheard tune greeted you. You smiled to yourself, biting your finger and watching him for a moment.

He spun slowly, and when his sight landed on you, he froze. He quickly, albeit gently, placed the small thing back onto the couch. The puppy rolling over and smiling up at you.

John cleared his throat, a closed fist to his throat, and after putting his hands on his hips to "act cool", he spoke.

"His name is The Dot."

You giggled behind your hand, going up and kissing his cheek, not before you pet Dot in passing. "Next time we're adopting a kid."

His spot widened and slid into a heart, blush coating his cheeks.

"And you're not naming them."

He laughed.

#the spot #spot atsv #the spot x reader #the spot x you #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #spiderverse x reader #the spot atsv #jonathan ohnn #the spot spiderverse #atsv spot #atsv the spot #spot my beloved

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hundredandsix · 1 year

Text

just a girl ✩ [ellie williams] ✩

[ loser/guitarteacher!ellie x milf!reader ]

✩ wc: 5.5k

✩ summary: Ellie is your son's guitar teacher with no plans of acting on her fierce attraction toward you. After a long day of lessons, she spots your family at a restaurant. She thinks she may be able to escape the situation without you turning her into a blushing, stammering mess, but your son happens to double as her favorite student and the world's youngest wingman. Ellie gets more than she bargained for after you offer her a ride home.

✩ cw: mdni(18+), Ellie is a complete rizzless loser, sub/switch!ellie, switch!reader, fingering (Ellie receiving), oral (Ellie receiving), strap-on usage (Reader receiving)

a/n - here is the prologue and where the idea originated, but you don't have to read it to understand this.

Ellie was on the verge of passing out. And no, it was not because she hadn't eaten in the past ten hours, though that was a likely contributor. It was because you were there, mere feet from her racing heart and sweaty palms.

She thought she could sneak around you. Your back was turned to her, and if she angled her body right, she could make it to the hostess while remaining beyond your line of sight. Your mother was seated in front of you but she barely even recognized Ellie when she picked up Jackson, your sweetheart of a son, from his guitar lessons.

She had almost made it to the hostess and was about to let out a sigh of relief when she heard it. That cheerful, high-pitched voice full of adoration.

"Mom, look it's Miss Ellie!"

She didn't have it in her to be mad at him. He was her favorite student after all. Her clients ranged in age from ten to sixteen, but she made an exception for little Jackson. At eight years old, he had more discipline than her older students and was more musically gifted than many adults.

And it didn't hurt that he was the sweetest child she had ever met. On his sixth lesson, he came prancing into the studio with a new pair of Converse, shouting "Look Miss Ellie we match!" He made sure to regale her with how he had scratched them up to look just like hers.

So when he turned in the booth, face stained from orange soda, she couldn't help but smile back just as brightly. But his words also drew your attention. Your mother gave a polite wave, but you sent her a wink, long eyelashes fluttering.

Your gaze lingered, and Ellie would have sworn that you looked her up and down. All the way from her half-up half-down hair to the Converse Jackson loved so dearly. Your hand shot up in a half wave, fingers waggling in her direction.

It was hard to breathe when you were looking at her this closely. This had never been a problem for her before, but three weeks ago, your schedule changed. Rather than your elderly mother picking up Jackson from his practices, you were now getting him.

As soon as you opened that door to her studio room, she knew you were going to be a problem. She didn't know whether it was the good kind yet.

Ellie didn't know what she was expecting Jackson's mother to look like but it wasn't that. God, you were gorgeous, and it hurt her even more that she would never be able to have you. But she wasn't that shallow. You were incredibly kind, always checking in on her when you made her so nervous that she couldn't speak. You had to have noticed that she blushed at everything you said and couldn't keep still when your eyes were on her.

Ellie was pulled from her thoughts by Jackson's wriggling form. He crawled right over your lap from his spot in the booth. You tried to stop him, but it was no use. He was on a mission.

"Jackie! Get back here," you said as you dashed after him.

"Miss Ellie! Miss Ellie! Come sit with us pleeeeasse," he shouted as he ran right towards her.

He wrapped his tiny arms around her legs, sending her veering to the right, but Ellie was experienced enough with his hugs that she was prepared.

"Hey, little guy. You been practicing the notes I taught you?" Ellie asked with a gentle pat atop his head.

"Yes! I've been—"

"Jackson," you interrupted.

Your son pried himself from her legs, face turned down and an adorable pout on his face.

"You need to go sit back—"

"Mom! Can Miss Ellie sit with us?" he asked again.

You gave her an apologetic glance, but she hoped you could see that she didn't mind. He was causing a bit of a scene with his loudness, but the other guests seemed charmed by him as well.

You were out of breath, and this didn't skip Ellie's notice. She followed your hands placed on your hips to your heaving chest. Her gaze lingered there. She couldn't help it. She thought about what else she could do to make you breathe that heavily.

When she looked up, your eyes were on her. She'd been caught. Her face was like it was on fire, but this was not unusual when she was talking to you. You quirked an eyebrow at her antics, but that was all you allowed her.

"I'm sure Miss Ellie is very busy," you said, and Ellie's heart soured at your words. She didn't think she could handle sitting in such close proximity to you. All that would be left of her by the end of the meal would be a pile of ashes.

"But," you continued, "it's up to her."

Jackson beamed up at her. How could she say no to him?

"Erm—okay. Yeah, I'll sit with you."

You smiled at that. It seemed genuine, but Ellie wasn't sure if you had some ulterior motive here.

"C'mon!" Jackson shouted again, grabbing her hand.

He pulled her into your seat and began pushing your drink and napkins to the other side. You followed them over to the table and laughed at his antics.

"Wow, what am I? Chopped liver?" you said in mock sadness.

That was such a mom thing to say, and that's when Ellie knew she was absolutely fucked because her heart squeezed at your words.

When you took the empty seat next to your mother, Ellie sat next to Jackson. The seat was still warm from your body heat.

Your mother, who had been otherwise silent this entire time, finally spoke up. "Do you have Jackson's bag packed?" she asked you.

"Yes, it's in the car."

Eager to break the tense silence, Ellie turned to him. "Do you get to go on a trip?"

"I get to have a sleepover at grandma's! And see all of my cousins!"

He suddenly turned very tense.

"But don't worry! I will still be there next week! Because you said I get to learn my first chord."

"That's right!"

The waitress came around the corner, a bright smile on her face. Ellie pretended to not notice the way she rolled her eyes at her addition to the table.

You rolled your shoulders and placed your hands neatly on the table, one wrist crossed over the other. Ellie's eyes followed your hands, tracing down to your nails. They were short.

"Sorry about that. We've acquired another person," you said, tapping your nails on the table.

She couldn't pull her eyes away from her hands. They looked so soft. She wondered what they would feel like dragging down her sides, leaving red lines from your nails.

"Ellie," you said, "she's asking what you'd like to drink."

She ripped her eyes from your hands and fumbled for the menu before realizing she didn't have one. She sat up stick-straight and shoved her hands in the pockets of her oversized pants.

"Right, sorry. I'm fine with water. And I'm actually ready to order if you all are. I already know what I want."

The waitress nodded and went around the table taking orders. Ellie leaned over to help Jackson announce what he had circled on the kid's menu.

Ellie felt dizzy again. She really was starving and it didn't help that you were sitting right in front of her, watching her every move.

"So, Ellie," your mother started, "how is your semester going so far?"

She jumped when Jackson poked her in the side with his index finger. He shoved a yellow crayon in her hand and passed his little menu over, pointing to the tic-tac-toe game. He had already placed his in the middle.

"It's going good so far. My classes aren't as hard as last semester. Maybe I'm just getting used to it."

She drew a circle next to Jackson's X with the cheap crayon. You were watching her and the corner of your mouth turned up in amusement.

"She's a real smart girl, y/n. Top of her class," your mother said, tapping you on the shoulder.

You were busy folding your straw wrapper like an accordion, pulling it apart before pushing the folds back together.

"So I've heard. You're an astrophysics major, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, I am."

Your front teeth sank into the plush skin of your bottom lip. This time you had fucked up because there was absolutely no way you should have known that. She had mentioned a bit of it to your mom but never confirmed what her major was to you or her.

It was your turn to be flustered. You crumpled the wrapper in your hands, rolling it into a little ball.

"I think I saw your Instagram the other day. It was in your bio."

You were saved by the waitress coming around the corner, her arms full of plates.

The dinner went smoothly after that. Small talk was exchanged between the three women as Jackson raved about his grilled cheese and side of broccoli.

Ellie had finished her meal, but her stomach felt empty. She was starved, but not for food. She wanted something... more fulfilling.

"We better get going, Jackie," your mother said, guiding you out of the booth so she could leave.

Jackson didn't give Ellie time to stand. Instead, he darted under the table and crawled under her legs. You sighed, hands at your temples at his antics.

Your mom handed you a fifty, which you swiftly handed back to her.

"It's on me this time, Mom! You're not allowed."

She gave you a stern look, but you crossed your arms over your chest, nose in the air. It became apparent where you had inherited your stubbornness.

"I love you," you said. "Now, come give me a hug goodbye, Jackie."

He ran back over to you and jumped in your arms as you smothered him in kisses. Jackson wriggled in your grasp, trying to escape your affection.

"Be good for grandma, okay?" you said, placing one last kiss to his temple.

He nodded, giving in and snuggling into you further.

"His bag is in my car. You should be able to just grab it. It's unlocked."

With a swift nod, your mother was on her way. Jackson trailed loudly behind her. It appeared he had forgotten Ellie was there, but she knew he would be just as excited to see her next Thursday.

Ellie's head snapped back towards you when she felt a gentle pressure at her ankle.

"I'm happy you decided to join us. He just adores you."

Ellie choked on her own spit when she felt your foot move over hers to rest on top of her Converse.

"Um—anytime Ms. y/l/n. I'm not supposed to have favorite students but he really is a special kid."

A lopsided grin decorated your face, and Ellie found it difficult not to mirror you. She didn't know whether to smile, laugh, or maybe just run away.

"Now, Ellie. What have I told you about calling me that. I'm only a few years older than you, you know? Are you calling me old?"

"N—no, I would never! I just thought—"

You cut her off by placing both your hands over her shaking one and pressing it down on the table. She tried to keep still when you ran the tip of your shoe up the side of her calf.

"I'm just teasing you. I think it's sweet how you always try to be so respectful. Just know that you don't have to be."

Ellie's brain was clouded with you. Your scent. Your hands over hers. And yes they were just as soft as she had imagined. Your foot rubbing against hers.

She let out a shaky sigh and gained enough courage to place her other hand on top of yours.

The waitress came back to remove the dirty plates from the table and take your card. Ellie tried to split the check, but you were faster, sending her a wink as you passed your card to the server.

"You are too nice to me. You let me crash your dinner and now you're paying for my food," Ellie mumbled.

She tried to keep eye contact. She really did, but your gaze was so intense that she had to look away.

"Ellie."

She really wished you would stop saying her name because she couldn't fucking focus and—were you getting closer because she could feel your breath fan over her face?

"You don't have to be so nervous."

"I'm not."

You gave her a knowing smile and separated your body from hers to collect your bag and a few of Jackson's toys he had left behind.

"We should get going," you said, standing from the booth.

"Right."

Ellie stood on shaky legs and followed you to the door. You waved to the waitress on your way out, and she smiled back at you. It didn't seem fair that you had that effect on everyone.

She shook her arms out to prepare for her walk home. It wouldn't take long to get to her apartment. That's why she came to this restaurant. It was only about a five-minute walk away.

Your eyes followed her form, looking for her car in the mostly-full parking spaces. When you came up short you asked, "Did you walk? I can give you a ride back to your place."

"Yeah, but it's not far. I should be okay," Ellie said, scratching the back of her neck.

She felt so hot and it wasn't from the weather. Ellie hoped you didn't notice the sheen of sweat that covered her skin from her nervousness.

You rolled your eyes and threw the passenger door of your car open. She tried not to trace her eyes down your legs as you leaned over.

"C'mon, it'll only take a second. It's getting dark out anyway!"

"Well, if you don't mind," Ellie gave in.

"Not at all!"

Ellie eyed your car and then her apartment complex which she could see from the restaurant. You were throwing stuffed animals and action figures from your front seat to the back of the car. When you deemed it satisfactory, you held out your hand to the passenger seat.

"There you go! Sorry, it's kind of a mess. Jackie insists on bringing all of his toys wherever we go."

Ellie stepped in and you shut the door behind her. It was like something from a movie. Except loser college students didn't usually get driven home by incredibly attractive single mothers.

Your scent was so strong in the car that she almost forgot to put her seatbelt on. Well, that was until you pointed it out, reaching over her to grab the belt and buckle it for her.

It was going to be a long drive home.

"There you fucking go, Ellie. So pretty like this," you said, pumping two of your fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.

Ellie cried out at your words and tried to remember how this happened. Her memory became too clouded with you after you arrived at her complex. You parked in the darkened spot at the back of the lot, not visible during the nighttime. At first, she thought she was dreaming because you put your hand on her thigh when you said goodbye.

She could smell your perfume as you leaned in closer, rubbing little circles on her inner thigh with your thumb. Next thing she knew, you were both in the backseat, you straddling her and shoving her jeans and boxers down her legs.

The sound of your fingers was obscene. The only thing louder was her gasps for breath. It had only been a few minutes, but she was so close. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, trying to pull it off, but you batted her hands away for now.

Her wetness was getting all over your leather seats, and she hoped you wouldn't see from the position you were in. You were straddling her, one leg on either side of her spread thighs. It was a little awkward, but your backseat didn't exactly offer much room.

"So wet. Getting all over me," you teased.

To prove your point, you held your fingers up to her face. She whined at the emptiness you left between her legs. Her slick glimmered in the moonlight, and she resisted the urge to shove your fingers in her mouth. If you had parked closer to the street lamps, you would have seen her flush.

To her dismay, you didn't move your hand back. Instead, you placed your thumb over her clit, moving it left and right lightly. It was the ghost of a touch, so light she could barely feel it. She cried out and bucked forward, trying to increase the friction.

"See, you just needed someone to take care of you, huh? Bet you could cum just like this."

Everything felt so tense. Ellie could feel the coil growing tighter and tighter in her lower stomach, the pleasure growing so fierce that she almost wanted to pull away from it. Her own fingers had never made her finish this fast before.

"Yes—I, I'm gonna—"

And she did.

Ellie gasped, hands flying forward to grab your wrist. Your movements faltered momentarily in what she thought was shock, but that didn't stop her from grinding against you.

Her eyes remained trained on your fingers, admiring your pretty hands and how wet they were from her. Her face felt hot at her actions. She didn't want to seem so desperate.

"There you go. Didn't take much, did it?" you said, helping her grind herself down on you.

Ellie groaned and released your wrist with one of her hands to grab your shoulder. She pulled you closer to her and hid her face in your neck as she rode out her high.

She could feel the heat of your neck against her cheek and it felt so comforting that she thought she could stay there forever. Your laugh pulled her out of her daze as you pried her off of you. You pulled away, but not before noisily connecting your lips in a wet kiss.

Ellis pulled your bottom lip in between her teeth, biting down gently. The groan you let out sent another pang of arousal through her. This wasn't enough. She hadn't even got to touch you yet and she wanted all of you.

"Do you wanna go inside?" you asked against her lips.

Ellie really must have been dreaming now. She was so caught by your words that she almost agreed, but then she remembered. Dina, her roommate, was home tonight.

Dina was chill and likely wouldn't have cared, but she wanted to be spared from the onslaught of questions she would receive the next morning. Was it good? Was she good? How did you score her?

You pulled away, taking her silence as something negative.

"Sorry, I don't mean to push. This is probably a bad id—"

"No!" Ellie said, a little too loudly. Her hands came to rest on your shoulders, holding you in place like you were about to run away.

"It's just—my roommate is home."

"Oh, well we can go to my place. If you're okay with that."

Ellie tried to keep her cool. She really did. But she nodded so enthusiastically, it made you laugh again.

I think it's sweet how you always try to be so respectful. Just know that you don't have to be.

Those were the words on Ellie's mind as she was in your bed, cotton sheets tangled beneath her legs and you crying out under her.

It started in the kitchen, both you and Ellie were too hungry for one another to spend the time walking to your bedroom. Ellie took you against the counter, and when your legs were too tired to support yourself, you guided her to the bedroom.

When you presented the strap to her, clear blue and glittery, she was a little worried you wanted to use it on her. God, she wanted it so bad, but she didn't think she could keep it together if she let you. It was so much already, and she was still in a state of shock that this was even happening.

Instead, you handed Ellie the harness, a shy smile decorating your face for the first time that night.

It took her a few tries to buckle it, her fingers fumbling from the nerves. When you reached over to help her, practiced fingers guided it over her thighs smoothly as if you'd done this hundreds of times before.

She tried not to be jealous about that. There really was no need to be. Ellie had no claim on you. You were just her student's tempting, irresistible mother.

But she couldn't help it. She had only just had a taste, but she wanted you to be hers. She was going to prove to you that you'd never need anyone else after her.

She pushed you back onto the bed and attacked you in a kiss so passionate that your teeth knocked together. Her lips moved to your neck, sucking bruises that you'd likely scold her for later. She liked it when you told her off anyways.

"Please. Hurry up," you said breathlessly.

She sat back on her knees to get a better angle, rubbing the head of the strap over your cunt. You were wet enough that she wasn't worried about hurting you, and her earlier ministrations in the kitchen had prepared you.

She circled your entrance, but moved at the last second, rubbing it over your clit in tight, rapid movements. Her other hand moved over your tits, thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipples.

"Thought you liked it when I was nice to you. You don't want me to take my time?" Ellie asked, growing a little cocky at how ready you were for her.

"No, Ellie. I want you to fuck me."

That was all she needed to hear. She entered you in one fluid movement, and your hands flew to her bare back, digging red lines into the soft skin.

She committed every whine, every groan to her memory. If you never let her do this again, at least she'd have that to think about.

She started off slow, not wanting to push you too hard, but you were begging for more within the first thirty seconds.

"Harder. Thought I said I wanted you to fuck me," you whined.

Ellie rolled her eyes at that, and you reached forward to gently slap the side of her face. She felt like she had done something truly wrong and was ready to do whatever you wanted to make up for it.

"Fine," she said, pulling out of you.

You whined at the emptiness, pushing her back to you by her shoulders, but Ellie shrugged you off. In a display of surprising strength, she grabbed your hips roughly and flipped you onto your stomach.

You caught on and rose on your elbows, arching your back to stick your ass out for her. Looking so pretty and ready for her, she couldn't help it. She placed a sharp smack to your ass, and you cried out, arching into her further for what she hoped was more.

Not wanting to waste any time, she lined the strap up again. She was rough with it, not giving you even a second for you to adjust before she was railing into you.

"This what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to fuck you?" she asked breathlessly, giving your ass another smack.

“Yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good for me, El.”

Ellie almost paused, but didn’t want to disappoint you. Wasn’t she supposed to say that to you? She tried to ignore the way your words sent her absolutely spiraling, but she swore she could feel you clenching around the fake dick.

She decided to make that her mission. No matter what, she wanted to be good for you. To please you.

She regretted flipping you over because now she couldn't watch your face. But seeing your ass slap against her thighs made her throb just as much. If she ground her hips into yours, she could feel the strap rubbing against her clit.

When you threw your head over your shoulder to look back at her, she decided to store this information for later. Your mouth was hanging open, and you let out a little grunt every time she thrust back into you.

And like the tease you were, you fucking winked at her again. But this time, there was no amount of nervousness that was going to keep Ellie from getting what she wanted.

"Wish you would stop fucking teasing me," she said with a pout forming on her lips.

Ellie was so mean with it. She set a punishing pace, knocking the breath out of you as she pulled out all the way and then slammed back in. Her fingertips dugs little bruises into your thighs.

She removed one of her hands from your hip to press on the small of your back, arching you into the bed. You seemed to like this new angle because you let out a string of curses and arched back into her.

Ellie tried to conceal the way her breathing was growing heavier. Sweat dripped from her brow, and she ignored the way her cunt was absolutely throbbing at the view in front of her. She was going to be good.

She snaked an arm around your leg to stroke her fingers over your clit. Maybe you were more experienced than her, but your hands were no match for her guitarist's fingers.

You cried out as she worked over you, keeping a pace so precise and calculated that Ellie was even a bit impressed with herself.

It wasn't long before your moans turned into whines. You shoved your head into your arms, trying to conceal the loudness. "G—gonna cum. Don't fucking stop. Please," you cried out, slamming your hips back into hers.

Ellie couldn't help herself. Against your wishes, she flipped you back over. She didn't give you time to complain. She barely even pulled out before she was back to her toe-curling pace, supporting herself with one lean arm and using the other to rub over your clit.

"Wanna see your pretty face when I make you cum," she panted, green eyes scanning over your features.

Your eyes clenched shut, mouth open in a silent groan as you came at her words. This time she did feel you clench around the strap because it became much more difficult to keep up her pace. Your cunt pulsed around it, forming a heartbeat she wanted the chance to memorize.

She didn't stop until you pushed her away, the combination of her fingers and the strap just on the side of too much. You didn't even give Ellie the chance to catch her breath before you were yanking the harness off of her, throwing the strap somewhere across the room to be dealt with later.

Ellie yelped as you grabbed her lean thighs, pulling her up your body until her cunt was level with your face. Your expression was enough to tell her she was soaked.

You ran your index finger through her slick, grazing the side of her clit and sending a moan tumbling past her lips.

"You're so pretty," you said, eyes focused on her dripping cunt.

Ellie wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't you pulling her onto her face. She moved her hips up to pull away in embarrassment, but you shoved her back down, groaning into her cunt that she "better sit the fuck down."

Your tongue swirled over her cunt with practiced precision. You knew just when to use the flat of your tongue rather than the pointed tip and how to pull each little groan and whine from her.

She didn't know what to do with her hands, so they hung by her sides in disuse. There wasn't a lot of room to touch you, so she resorted to cupping her own tits, kneading the sensitive flesh as you brought her closer and closer to release.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you could make her cum. She was so close already, and you had only just pulled her over your mouth.

She tried to warn you, she really did. But the pleasure hit her so fast and all at once, that she didn't have a chance to do much but release one of her hands and tangle it in your hair, tugging gently at the roots.

She didn't think she blacked out, but next thing she knew, she was laying on your bed with your hands stroking over her cheeks softly.

"Don't cry, baby. You did so good for me."

She didn't understand what you meant until her own hand reached up to run over her face. Sure enough, there were tear tracks decorating her skin, a sign of the overwhelming pleasure you just gave her.

You let out a gentle giggle, like the sound of wind chimes, and she couldn't help but follow along with you.

"Wasn't crying in a bad way! It's just—"

"I know. It was a lot, but you took it so well."

Ellie turned her head to the side, not wanting you to see her flush at her words. She felt a little overdramatic. To make up for it, she tried to stand up and grab a towel, but her legs were too shaky. She fell right back against the bed.

You laughed again, pulling her limbs to rest under the cozy blanket on your bed. She felt the warmth of your body cuddle into her for a moment.

"You tired?"

"Yeah," she said, eyes closing involuntarily.

"Let me take care of everything. You stay here and rest," you said, placing a gentle kiss on the damp skin of her forehead.

Ellie didn't wake until the next morning. The sounds of childlike laughter and doors slamming made her think she was dreaming at first. She opened her eyes, rubbing the sleep away from the corners.

She probably should have left much earlier, but she hadn't woken up once since she fell asleep. As a chronic insomniac, this was the most well-rested she had felt in a long time. You would have woken her if you really wanted her to leave, right?

She reached her tattooed arm to your side of the bed but was met with nothing but a pile of wrinkled sheets. Ellie shot up from the bed and began to pull her clothes on. They smelled like the night before: sex and your perfume that she couldn't seem to shake.

She took a moment to shake her shoulders out. Maybe you were making breakfast. She cursed herself for not thinking of it first.

But then she heard you shout, "Jackson, you get back here right now!"

A tornado of movement flew across your doorway, and she thanked whoever was up above that he didn't come into your room.

But perhaps she had expressed her gratitude too soon because Jackson must have seen her. She heard him before she saw him, his tiny feet stomping back towards her. He ran backwards into the room and spun around, mouth open in amazement.

"Miss Ellie! How did you get here?"

You appeared behind him, the signs of sleep still in your eyes. You must have just woken up because you were still in a pair of linen pajamas.

"Um, hi, Jackie!" Ellie said, trying to be casual.

Clearly, she was failing because Jackson turned to you, eyes so wide he looked like a cartoon character. His voice lowered, almost a whisper.

"Mom, if I'm not allowed to have sleepovers, how come you are?"

He crossed his arms as he awaited his response. Ellie's gaze fell anywhere but on you. She had no idea how you were going to handle this, but she trusted your judgment.

You placed a motherly hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the room and throwing an apologetic glance her way.

"That was so nice of Grandma to drop you off early, wasn't it? Are you hungry? I wonder if Miss Ellie will like my pancakes as much as you do?"

Jackson ripped your hands off of him and ran over to her, taking her larger hand in his small one. She glanced up to see your retreating form. He pulled her forward, running after you with so much force it almost sent her sprawling on the floor.

"C'mon, Miss Ellie! You're taking too long."

She followed after him and caught a glimpse of you tying an apron around your waist as she entered the kitchen. In what seemed to be your signature move, you winked at her, beckoning her forward with open arms.

Yeah, she could get used to this.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #lesbian #tlou #tlou smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams imagine #sub!ellie #bottom!ellie #modern!ellie williams #hundredandsix #loser!ellie

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starlightrosa · 2 months

Text

Husk's Manicure

With thanks and full credit to @kitselfindulgencefluff for this wonderful idea in a discord server we're both in! I just had to write this, tis too cute!

Pairing: Husk/Angel Dust - or Huskerdust as we know them <3

Summary: Husk allows Angel to do his nails. Husk, however, was not counting on it to tickle so much. But fret not, for our cat pays it back in kind.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Tickling, lotsa teasing, swearing, romantic Huskerdust, much fluff ahead, tons of cute fluffy pet names they both use, non-English words (in italics, translation list at the bottom haha)

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Huskie?”

“Yeah, my dove?” Husk asked, looking from the book he was happily reading, as he looked to his beautiful boyfriend Angel Dust, curled happily on top of him as the two enjoyed each other’s company. From losers to lovers. Husk loved Angel dearly, and he could tell Angel felt the same.

“Can I do your nails? Give my favourite kitty a manicure? Pleeeeease? Pretty pleeeease?” Angel begged.

“I ain’t your damn mannequin.” Husk grumbled in an effort to regain some of his usual grumpy demeanour from this soft scene between the two, though the effect was lost both from the soft voice and the little smile to Angel. He jokingly put his book back up to his face, enjoying the whimper from Angel as his book was lowered back down by one of the spider sinner’s many hands, and he was faced with the biggest puppy eyes (spider eyes?) he’d ever seen.

“Pleaseeee, Huskie! Ya know I love ya, so much.” Angel tried again. Husk chuckled and softly kissed the top of Angel’s head. Damn it, this spider was turning him soft. But how could he ever say no to someone like Angel? The short answer to that question was the fact that it was impossible to ever refuse Angel Dust, because Angel deserved the world. To Husk, Angel was his world.

“For you, mi corazon. For you, I’ll sit through it, because you are my beautiful spider. Just don’t put any pink glittery shit on me. I don’t look good in glitter.” Husk joked.

Angel had a wide grin as he cuddled deeper into Husk’s warm fur. “You’re still beautiful enough for me, Huskie~!”

Husk chuckled, his wings curling around Angel’s body in a protective manner, their hearts beating softly in time with one another. “Oh shut up, you sap.”

“Make me, cutie.” Angel shot back with a wink, his tone sickeningly adoring. “Can I do your nails yet?” the alluring spider asked.

Husk sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. But no pink glittery shit, you hear me?”

Angel grinned and gently pushed himself off of Husk.

“Got it, babe. I’ll be right back!” he said, running upstairs to his hotel room to go fetch what he needed. His therapy pig, Fat Nuggets was dozing gently in his little pet bed as Angel grabbed his tools of choice. Nail files, hand moisturiser, nail clippers, a buffer, a clear base and top coating for the actual nail painting bit and some cleansing wipes in case Angel made a mistake and needed to quickly correct it.

Angel hurried down the grandeur stairs to the lobby and hurried back into the room, his heeled boots clicking softly. Husk was there waiting, his claws on display. A bit overgrown and a bit dulled, no doubt from lack of care. But Angel would have them looking gorgeous in no time.

Angel knelt down on the floor and took Husk’s left hand, immediately starting to remove the cuticles and buffing each claw carefully. His slender fingers grazed over Husk’s paw pads. Normally, Angel wouldn’t have even noticed, but the choked down giggle and barely repressed squirming from Husk made Angel’s focus break.

“Pfft- Huskie, what was that noise?”

“Shut it, Legs. You know what you’re doin’…” Husk responded grumpily, trying to gently tug his hand out of Angel’s grip. But the spider sinner turned his palms up, letting Angel see the paw pads and the toe beans on both of Husk’s hands.

“Oh my fucking God…” Angel murmured, looking to Husk like he was a precious treasure. “You have fuckin’ BEANS!”

“T-They’re my paw pads, not beans!” Husk tried to explain, but Angel squealed loudly in sheer cuteness overload. His boyfriend just kept on surprising him every damn day, and Angel grinned. A whole new part of his Husk to love, right along with the rest of him.

Now that Angel knew Husk had ticklish little paw pads, he tried his best to continue on with the nail treatment, enjoying Husk’s laughter. Angel didn’t think he’d ever seen Husk so… content, and the domestic scene was sweeter than sugar.

“So this is why ya never let me hold ya hand out in public~! Your little paw pads are so ticklish, ya can’t even handle me holdin’ your hand. That’s adorable, Huskie!” Angel teased, his fuzzy fingers sweeping gently over Husk’s palms.

“Hah, fuck! Angel, thahahat fuckin’ tihihickles! Ya prihihick, cut that ohohout!” Husk demanded, the annoyed effect he wanted completely diminished by the honey-sweet giggles that left the grumpy cat’s lips.

“Ohh, this tickles? Damn, I wonder what’d happen if I just, y’know, did this.”

Before Husk could protest, Angel pressed his lips to the paw pad and blew a gentle raspberry. And I shall throw my hat down and say with the utmost sincerity to you, dear reader, that Husk fucking snorted.

“HAHAHA, JEHEHESUS! FUHUHUCKIN’ STAHAHAP! AHAHAHANGEL, I CAN’T-!” Husk wailed, his tail whacking against the armrest of the sofa where he sat, another loud snort leaving him as Angel simply did the same thing to the other hand this time. And when Angel pulled away, the spider sinner snickered before he fell into laughter himself.

“Hahaha, dihihid you fuckin’ SNORT? You sure you’re a cat, Huskie? Maybe you’re a piggy on Old McDonald’s farm. With a snort-snort here, and a snort-snort there and all.” Angel teased, an almost evil smile on his face.

“E-I-E-I-Oh, go fuck yourself.” Husk joked right back, laughing along with his boyfriend, both from his own response to Angel’s quip as well as the tickling happening on his paw pads. He did not remember his hands ever being this ticklish while he was alive.

Eventually after what felt like literal centuries but was probably only a couple hours, Angel managed to buff Husk’s nails into a better state, and filed the overgrowth away, leaving his nails much more catlike and slender.

Angel pulled away at last, and Husk flexed his new nails. Damn, they were near unrecognisable. They looked… good.

“Do ya like ‘em?” Angel asked. Husk found himself smiling.

“You did great, my dove.” Husk murmured, before he got quite a fun idea. He slowly let his mouth tick upwards into a cheeky grin, looking at Angel.

“U-Uh? Huskie? Why are ya lookin’ at me like that? Unless ya, heh, see somethin’ ya like~?” Angel asked, trying to tease Husk a little more.

“Oh, there’s a lot I like seein’ when it comes to you, little dove. But I think my claws would just looooove to meet those cute little sides of yours.” Husk crooned, his aforementioned claws wriggling slightly.

Angel gulped. Uh oh. He got up and started to back away from Husk, but the cat was quicker and simply tugged Angel back sharply. Angel stumbled over his fashionable boots and Husk caught him, one hand gently guiding the alluring arachnid to the floor, as Husk straddled his waist and smirked.

“H-Huskie, plehehease! Dohohon’t!” Angel begged, already seeing those nails. Oh Christ, that was gonna be crazy ticklish if Husk got his hands on him.

“Aw, why not? My claws just wanna meet the person who took care of them so well~ don’t be shy, little dove. Come say hi to them. There’s only ten of them to say hi to!” Husk responded.

“Ooh, look at this. My claws are sooo close to saying hi! They’re just dyin’ to meet ya, Angel. Just sooooo close to those little sides, and hips. Can’t wait to tickle ‘em all I want, and have ya giggling like the lil cutie you are~!”

Angel whined through his laughter bubbling past his lips. “F-Fuck… Huskie, plehehease! Gehehet it ohohover wihihihith!” Angel begged.

“Your wish is my command, you adorable little arachnid.” Husk crooned, before his claws met Angel’s sides, the tickling finally starting, which was both a blessing and a curse for the poor ticklish spider. Being left in anticipation for so long, Angel had no damn chance to ever resist. He fell apart instantly.

“NOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA!” Angel cackled, squirming for all he was worth. Husk snickered at the over-the-top reaction.

“Goddamn, you get more ticklish here or somethin’?” Husk asked, his claws not letting up even once.

“STAHAHAHAP!”

“Stop? Oh hell no, I’ve just gotten started. Tickle, tickle, bellissimo ragno!” Husk cooed, still tickling his sides happily.

Angel’s blush brightened at the Italian words rolling off his lover’s tongue, and Angel responded in kind.

“F-FaHAHAHAHA! F-Fa il solletico, Husk! Per favore! Abbi pietà!” Angel begged, laughter overtaking him as his legs kicked out behind Husk. Husk’s ears twitched as he heard Angel out and snickered.

“Mercy? You want mercy, eh? Is my sweet spider too ticklish? Is he?” Husk enquired, those damn ticklish claws not once letting up. Angel would have lasted much longer… if it were not for the fact that Husk’s claws were scratching gently at his hips, and it basically drove the poor spider over the edge.

“Yes! Yes! I’m too ticklish! Please, Huskie! Enough! I give up!” Angel babbled, his laughter going silent as he went limp.

Husk slowed his claws, settling for just tapping them gently on the spider’s hips, allowing Angel to take a breather. Angel gasped and slumped against Husk, the back of his hand pressing against his mouth to muffle the leftover giggles he still had.

Husk ran his claws through Angel’s hair. Angel sighed and laid in Husk’s lap, enjoying the feeling of Husk fussing with his luscious white and pink locks.

“Feels so nice, Huskie.” Angel murmured, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, I know. Go to sleep, little dove. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Husk murmured, still raking his soft hands through his beloved’s hair.

“G’night, Huskie…” Angel whispered, feeling his eyes close.

“Goodnight, Angel. Ti amo, bellissimo ragno.” Husk murmured. Angel couldn’t help but smile, mumbling the last word as he fell asleep in Husk’s arms.

“Anch'io ti amo, Huskie...”

Husk smiled. Maybe this was what happiness looked like.

The End!

(TRANSLATION LIST HERE)

Mi corazon - my heart (Spanish)

bellissimo ragno - beautiful spider. (Italian)

Fa il solletico, Husk! Per favore! Abbi pietà - It tickles, Husk! Please! Have mercy! (Italian)

Anch'io ti amo - I love you too. (Italian)

#hazbin tickles #lee!husk #lee!angeldust #ler!angeldust #ler!husk #huskerdust tickles #huskerdust #rosa writes fics

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rowretro · 8 months

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

WARNINGS: Hardcore Drug usage, underage drinking/smoking, abuse

✧taglist✧: (Idk if there is anyone who asked, but Im starting to confuse every taglist on each series)

✧CHAPTER 4✧

“Are you seriously high this early in the morning? The first lesson hasn’t even started yet fucksake y/n… Riki can’t race tonight because of your junkie ass.” Heeseung complained as the girl rolled her eyes. “Im sober when i'm high or drunk broski, not my fault he’s weak” y/n added as Heeseung facepalmed. The male had walked in on his high sister, snuggled up with a high Riki who had a race scheduled for this very day, beside them a broken, burnt out guitar that had homework stuffed in. She’s one hell of a bad influence on him.

The male wasn’t racing due to his recent high, he couldn’t take the risk of going on the track, speeding and seeing stars before he even got to the juicy part of his young age. He was too young to die. He hated it. God he’d never even look in the direction of coke ever again… So he called her up to smoke some weed after school. “Why did he even do that shit he’s never even done it before…” Heeseung mumbled as y/n frowned, turning to him “That was his first time?” the girl asked, now feeling bad for even agreeing to do coke with him.

“Yeah, guess he wanted to try and since you're a junkie who knows literally every dealer to even breath in South Korea” Hee added as the girl rolled her eyes “he does weed though right?” She asked as Hee frowned “Yeah, anyone could get weed if you think about it, anyways point is, let him influence you, stop influencing him, if you deal any hardcore drugs with anyone, dad will happily give you his position as a drug lord.” Hee pointed out as the girl turned to him, glaring holes into his head, the poor girl failed to notice the obviously closed door before her as she walked into it, hitting her head pretty hard.

“AHH FUCKING FICKLE HEAD- ” She groaned as she sat on the floor "every goddamn time" Hee snickered. Heeseung sat beside her, the two sitting on the freshly mopped school grounds, by the tall lockers. They had arrived early to school since Heeseung was dropping her off. "You know... Riki used to race illegally... and well some one who had connections to a more legal company saw him and his skills which is how he's so famous now." Heeseung pointed out as he turned to her.

y/n sighed as she took a sip of some cold, refreshing gin out of her flask, as she turned to Heeseung "It's not going to happen Heeseung... racing is just a princess dream." Y/n simply said as Heeseung sighed. If it was anyone other than Heeseung Jungwon or Sunoo who dare to even bring up racing with her, that person oughta go home with a rearranged face. It seems Riki was lucky.

It's funny how something someone loves so dearly and always dreamed of having some day, could turn into something they dread so much, they don't want to even hear anything of it. To y/n racing was her first love, her bittersweet lover who left her with a fresh wound that can never be treated. Maybe she stuff a human in that car shaped hole in her heart.

Heeseung patted her head as he got up "The offers always up if you're down to make your dreams come true." Heeseung said as the girl scoffed "I don't have dreams... dreams are for losers" she remarked. "Well, I know a little 7 year old who always annoys me with her dream plans to be a racer in her flaming pink race car with a nice disco ball inside... I'm sure you wouldn't mind making her dreams come true" Heeseung added with a smile, seeing that she didn't spit any snarky comebacks at him.

"Even if she's being a stubborn, annoying and showing me a little attitude, she's still my baby sister... I'd hate for her dreams to disappear like that" Heeseung simply said before leaving the girl with her own thoughts. It's true, her whole childhood, she always wanted to be a racer. She never actually watched any racing programmes, just the fast and furious movies, her favourite being 2 fast 2 furious. Perhaps why the specific pink colour of car

✧𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓✧

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pyjamaart · 7 months

Text

A looming presence... (A piece of fan art for Episode 11 of the Christmas Comeback Crisis)

Read more for an essay on all the memes and references ;)

So here it is. Finally. Only one month too late: This piece of CCC fan art I've worked on since the episode came out.

Sorry for the delay, but I just started at my new job this week and it's been a little stressful, so I didn't have much time to work on this. But now it's finally here!!! I gotta say, the hardest part by far was the background, lol. I didn't mean for it to escalate that much. At the end I was honestly running out of memes to draw.

I bet we can all agree that episode 11 of the Christmas Comeback Crisis was so worth the wait, right???? My god. Peak entertainment. I still can't believe I'm getting all this awesome lore and music for free, feels kinda criminal.

I'm so invested in this story, it's unreal. I can't wait to see how it will end. I can already tell it's gonna be pretty emotional. (And not to alarm anyone, but I have a slight feeling that the Voice is not gonna make it out of this story arc alive. I mean, after everything he's done, it's safe to say that he kinda deserves it. Of course I really don't want him to die, cause that would mean…….. Woodman would also have to die??? Otherwise the Voice will just keep coming back again and again because Woodman is keeping his memory alive…….. Oh man wait a moment….. I don't even want to think about that. Forget I said anything about this.)

Anyway, let's talk about this piece of art for a moment.

In the foreground, we have our brave protagonists. I really really like how Nozomi turned out, so I decided to make her my new icon from now on. Don't get me wrong, I love my old icon, but it's kinda zoomed out and you can't really make out any details when it's really small. So Nozomi it is. Meta Knights sword was shockingly difficult to draw, especially because I had to figure out how to draw it when he's holding it at an angle like that. Otherwise, drawing him was actually one of the easiest things about this whole thing. His design is really just two circles with some arms and armor. Figuring out how the circle tool in Gimp works has never felt this good. (Kinda crazy I can just draw him like this now, considering how obsessed with him I was when I was about 12-13 years old. Back then you had to download official renders of your favorite characters onto your computer, then print them out and hang them on your walls all around your room. Yeah I've always been like this.) Drawing Santa was really fun too, just his right hand was a little difficult. But that's just because I still can't draw hands in general. Maybe I should practice drawing hands more. (Naaaaaah I'm just kidding, I'll never do that.) Now that I'm looking at him again, he's also longingly staring at President Haltmann in the background. Doomed yaoi fr.

Speaking of the background, let's talk about that next. There's obviously the title-giving "looming presence" the Voice. I had his hands completely in the background at first, but I thought it looked cooler when they were hanging threateningly around Santa's shoulders. (You may ask yourself, 'man these hands look kinda alright for my usual hand drawing standards', and that is because I traced over pictures of my own hands. I love "cheating" at art.) I also gave him his stupid little bow tie and the colored buttons on his suit sleeves. Not only is that kinda my trademark for drawing him at this point, it's also supposed to show, that under all the threats and the evil villain persona, he's just kind of a loser. A real (male equivalent of a) girlfailure. That's why I made sure that half of the things shown in the background are there to make fun of him a little. I love the Voice dearly, but that's just what felt right.

And now let's get to the actual main course of this essay. I probably spent half the time working on this on the freaking background. I'm just gonna start in the top left corner and then go down each column and explain what each of these mean or what they reference. (Since there are some quite obscure ones in there.)

Let's start with the two ponies in the very top left. They're actually ponysonas of Nozomi Tojo (left) and Takane Shijou (right). Nozomi is an earth pony and has a tarot card as her cutie mark, specifically the ace of cups. Takane on the other hand is a unicorn and has some musical notes as her cutie mark, which you can't really see. I don't know enough about the Idolmaster to think of something more meaningful for her, sorry. ;)

Under that are Susie Haltmann and her father, President Haltmann. They were (after Woodman) the first characters I wanted to draw into the background. Susie has this black bar covering her face, since she was never really there to begin with. The whole story line with her father wanting to bring her back was actually so freaking sad. And when the Voice killed him in episode 11 and that image of Susie flashed on screen as the last thing he saw before he died….. Oof……… That's also why I drew that cursor looming next to her "window" about to click on the closing button. Haltmann himself is also the only character in the background to actually leave his little window, wanting to reach his daughter. He's also glaring at the Voice for causing him all of this grief and anger in the first place with his false promises.

Then there's…. ahem, "Hot robots in your area". With drawings of a random unnamed robot and Mettaton from Undertale. Which the Voice has apparently bookmarked. This is just a head canon, but I like to think he has a thing for robots, lol. ;)

Oh and on the left next to that on the very first column is Simpleflips' logo. Shoutouts to Simpleflips indeed.

Onto the next column. At the very top is Haruka Amami (also from the Idolmaster), who played a pretty huge role in the CCC, especially in the latest episode. That moment at the very end where she saved Grand Dad from certain death was just fantastic. Absolutely goated scene. She's kinda pressing her face against the window she's trapped in. I hope you can even see that from far away, haha.

Under that is one of the more obscure references. It's from a King for Another Day video, specifically one titled "The Hobart Hootenanny - SiIvaGunner: King for Another Day". It's a slideshow made of beautiful Hobart pictures. One that struck me personally the most was a little family picture of Hobart and the rapper Eminem, who was also a contestant in the KfAD tournament, looking lovingly over their son sitting in a cradle. Eminem is seen saying "Our son is beutiful". A truly touching photograph indeed. In that same slideshow is also another scene of Hobart together with the Voice, but we'll talk about that one later.

The next one is a reference to the CCC side story "I wanna thank me" and shows a pie chart with the election results that were discussed in that episode. Under the pie chart itself is a little box containing all the different parties and showing their respective percentages. On the left is a poster for the "Poké Poké Literature Party", showing Monika's head with the words "Just vote Monika" at the top of the poster. The words (and Misha.) are scribbled on the bottom, lest we forget that she's not running this party alone. This side story was first featured in the Christmas Comeback Crisis Watchalong in 2020, which was actually the first time I watched the CCC in its entirety. It all went downhill from there. ;)

Then there's the Voice's… thing? Object? Weird apparatus where no one really knows what it does or what its purpose is? Every time we see the Voice sitting in his office, this thing is sitting on his desk right next to him. There's been loads of jokes about its purpose. They've all been made before. I'm not going to repeat them. Only the Voice himself truly knows what this thing does. Probably. Could just be a decorative piece of art.

Then we have something veeeery self indulgent on the next column. It's Aquaman from Megaman 8 (With a not so subtle skull right next to him). You should all know by now that I'm the founding father of the Aquawood ship. And I also have the head canon that Woodman and the Voice are very divorced. Interpret into this whatever you want.

Next to Aquaman is the internets' favorite panel from the web comic Tails Gets Trolled. I fucking love that comic. If you haven't read it in its entirety, I highly recommend doing it. (Though be warned that it contains some pretty heavy topics, many many slurs and a plethora of gore.) Okay, maybe I don't recommend reading it. (Just read it with all of that in mind.)

Under that is a personal favorite joke of mine. It's supposed to be Spotify, with a playlist open that I created some time ago. I called it "Die Pizza Playlist" (Remember that die in German is just "the") which I always listen to when I'm baking my own pizza. Highlights include "Pizza" by Antilopen Gang, "Pizza Heroes" by Lemon Demon (You can actually see the album art for Spirit Phone on the left of the playlist.), "Pizza Pizza Pizza" from the Ratatouille musical and so on and so on. The first song in the playlist is obviously "We like pizza" by the Pizza kids, which is even playing in the image. On the side are two more music artists, at the bottom is the image for the Veggie Tales soundtrack, which also featured a song called "Pizza Angel". And over that is Mitski. I just feel like the Voice would listen to her music. Do not question me on this.

The audience laughs at the funny 7.

On the Voice's left shoulder sits a single green bean. It's flashing you a cheeky grin and a peace sign. While I didn't intend for this to happen, I accidentally referenced my own Woodman birthday gallery art from two years ago, where the bean also sits atop the Voice's shoulder. I know that next to "Yankin'", the bean is one of the most hated memes on SiIva, but I think he's just a silly little guy! :D

Let's head on over to the next column. Seems like the Voice has an incoming call from one of his guards, but he's ignoring it as he has more important things to do, like hovering intimidatingly over Santa Claus.

Next to that window on the right are the Voice's messages. I almost wrote "messanges". That would have been embarrassing, thank god I caught that in time. This is also (yet again) a little self indulgent, since the Voice apparently has the last message he sent Woodman pinned to the very top of his messenger app. His big triangular head is blocking most of it, but since I'm the artist, I can tell you exactly what it says: "Please call me back", which was sent on February 1st 2023, the day "The Disappearance of Woodman" was released. Yeah, I'm still very upset, how could you tell? :( Under that is a message to his trusty pizza guy asking for a pizza with extra cheese.

Next we have two of my favorite memes on the SiIvagunner channel (My absolute favorite being "Funny budots", since I never wrote that down anywhere.), one being Frisk Undertale becoming uncanny and the other one being the goat. I don't really know how to describe the goat, but apparently it was crafted by the same artist who made the stoned fox that's also very popular online?? I may just be stupid, but I didn't know about that until I looked up a reference for the goat. Since it often appears alongside Undertale and Deltarune, many have made the assumption that this is what Asriel would look like in real life. That's why Flowey is there next to it with an equal sign. Whoever drew up that calculation wasn't really sure of their work, which is why they drew a question mark right next to it. Between Frisk and the goat is a little Soul, also from Undertale/Deltarune.

Onto the next column, where I'm dropping very subtle hints that a specific character in this image might like pizza. Or might even be a little obsessed with it. On the left is a list with the contact details of three well known pizza chains, on the very top is Sonic the Hedgehog who just recently became a brand ambassador for Totino's and on the bottom right of this section is a flyer for some kind of pizza sale.

The next window contains my favorite joke of any rip on the entire SiIvaGunner Youtube Channel. "Peepoona 5. Let us shart the pants." Just typing this out is making me die of laughter yet again. (The rip in question is "Our Beginning - Persona 5".) But as you all know, I am very into toilet humor. That's why Aquaman is one of my favorite robot masters. And why I'm such a big fan of Youtube Poop. And why I watch Minion fart gun religiously. But enough of that, you get what I'm trying to say. I love funny poop jokes. That's why this is here.

Oh man. This next one is why I wanted to write this very detailed essay in the first place. A reference so obscure, even I can't find its origin anymore. And believe me, I tried. Thankfully, I took a screenshot of the original comment thread this was based on. A user called "The New Guy" commented on a SiIvaGunner rip, something along the lines about how much they enjoyed this specific rip. At the time, the comment had 920 likes, so I'm guessing it must have been a pretty popular video. (The comment should also be about 4 years old now?) Anyway, under that comment, someone asks them what their profile picture was from. They simply answered "wagon", since that was exactly what their profile picture showed. Someone on the SiIvaGunner team must have found this exchange so funny that they commented "wagon" as well. And that's the origin of this joke. If anyone knows which rip this is from pleeeeaaaase tell me. I need to know.

I don't think I need to explain who the next guy is. Just the love of my life. I specifically drew Woodman in his getup from the Nuclear Winter Festival, since that was the last time he appeared on the channel. He's looking kinda concerned in the general direction of the viewer, for obvious reasons. And right under him is his trademarked >:] emoji.

And last but certainly not least, the final column! Now I finally get to talk about this other scene from the Hobart Hootenanny. It shows Hobart and the Voice having a romantic stroll at a beautiful beach, while the sun is slowly setting in the background, making the water shimmer with its breathtaking colors. Okay, the last thing didn't really happen, since it's a shitty MS Paint drawing, but I like to imagine it did. Maybe I should draw a remake of this image one day. Now I'd like to quote the video in question: "A man and Hobart were walking together on the beach. He looked back and saw that in his times of sadness and need, there was only one set of footprints. He asked Hobart why he would leave him in his time of most need. Hobart simply turned to the man and said, VVVVVRRRRR SRRRRR RRRRGGGHHHH--" (Thank you SiIva Wiki for the transcription.) Now I don't think I need to explain why I drew Hobart in a bikini top and fishnets. The question answers itself.

The next image is actually quite easy to explain. It's mm5charge and smol Maki. In another universe, Chargeman and Maki might have been integral to the SiIvaGunner lore. This specific image is just stolen from my piece of fan art called "Megaman 5 Brainrot (featuring Acidman)", which I posted in 2022. I still head canon that Megaman and Love Live take place in the same universe. Just because I think it's funny. And because I want to see funny robot masters interact with the girlies from Love Live. How do I explain this? It's like…. balancing out the world? The robot masters are almost all male (with a few exceptions) and the characters shown in Love Live are all female. How would Thanos say? "Perfectly balanced, as all things should be." Don't question my cool head canons, okay?

After that we have a poster featuring the Jazz Cats! I really really love the little animations that showed their backstory when KfAD2 first came out. I don't know if it's okay for me to say this, but I also really really enjoy the song "But Not You" written (in universe) by Doge and Naxx. The text is veeeeeeery questionable, but man, does it sound good regardless… And shoutouts to wolfman1405 for the heavenly vocals.

On the right of that is a missing poster for Wade L.D.. Nothing much to explain here I guess.

Left of that is the Voices shopping list, which lists flour, oil, yeast… Wait a minute…. All of these are ingredients for pizza dough! Guys, I'm beginning to think that this guy might like pizza.

On the very bottom of this column is Mario 7 Grand Dad himself, who has his hostile gaze directed at the Voice. I would be pissed off too if someone kept me locked in a glass tube for 7 years.

The last little window just shows the Vineshroom with the words "fecal funny" written under it.

And with that, it is done. The entire background thoroughly explained. (I may have gone a little overboard this time.)

It's been a while since I posted new art, huh? In the meantime, a lot has happened. As I said before, I started a new job, got a tattoo of Woodman on my leg (best idea I've ever had btw) and I also started watching MLP, which explains the Love Live / Idolmaster ponysonas, lol.

And that's all I wanted to say. I hope that the next piece of art isn't that far off. Jenny out. (I think this might have been the longest essay I've ever written here. I'm so sorry. By which I mean, I'm not sorry at all. I'm not forcing anyone to read this.)

#welp im one month too late #but better late than never #i put my giant ass essay under the read more this time #open with caution its extremely fucking long because i got a little carried away #siivagunner #the voice inside your head #santa claus #nozomi tojo #smol nozomi #meta knight #president haltmann #susie haltmann #thats it im not tagging all of these guys #christmas comeback crisis #if you saw this posted to the wrong blog no you didnt #jumpscaring kirby fans with siivagunner art is my favorite hobby

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wakeupthemembersofbylernation · 2 years

Text

It’s really funny when you think of season 4 basically being a tragicomedy where two fruity disasters are engaged in a dance of who can miscommunicate the most. They both are actually on the same page with a desire to go crazy together and be a team but they assume the other boy is reading an entirely different book. Mike goes to Cali frazzled with a million chaotic thoughts, his confusion and flustered heart barely concealed by his Big Bird core outfit.

I have a girlfriend and I’m supposed to love her. Of course I love her, she’s my girlfriend! She’s El! She has superpowers! She’s changed my life! Yes, stick to the script! I can’t wait to meet her friends she’s been telling me about and also to meet Will 😍. Wait, why did I just get flustered? It’s just Will. My friend. Will Byers. WHO HAS APPARENTLY BEEN MAKING A PAINTING FOR A MYSTERIOUS GIRL?!? I wonder what that’s about. Actually I don’t wanna know. It’s fine. Oh my God, he got hot. Why did he get hot? Wait, don’t think that. That’s weird. He’s a boy. He’s Will. Act calm. Be normal. Uhhh. hi 😍 😍😍 Wait, why isn’t he showing me that? Does he hate me? Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?

Meanwhile Will, with no idea about Mike’s internal monologue, is extremely eager and happy to see his best friend again and is utterly confused why he is being so weird and not hugging him and why his outfit is so questionable. I guess he doesn’t care about anything I have to say anymore. I’m so stupid. Why did I make this painting and bring it to this airport like a loser? He doesn’t want to see it. Which is literally the opposite of the truth. And then things start happening too fast to process anything, and everyone’s talking fast, and El is flagrantly lying to Mike and it’s quite disturbing. Why would she do that? Friends don’t lie. This can’t end well.

And then at the roller rink Will is in tragic yearning mode while also keenly aware that a fire is brewing and wanting to put out the fire before it hurts both his sister and his best friend, both of whom he loves dearly. But Mike is oblivious to all of this while in his feelings about Will, paying absurdly close attention to Will “moping and rolling his eyes,” interpreting things in the wrong way. And then he shoots up like a gopher on adderall when Will tells him they need to talk about El because something is terribly wrong- which would be crystal clear if Mike wasn’t hyperfocused on Will’s every mood swing- and he refuses to believe it until it becomes undeniable, choosing instead to address what is clearly on his mind significantly more than his actual girlfriend on a theoretical date. And they have a high school musical coded fight in the middle of the building, entirely misunderstanding where the other boy is coming from, and it just leaves them more flustered, frustrated, and confused. But because they are incapable of personal space, it doesn’t make them drift apart physically. They stand side by side as El absolutely decks Angela to Will’s shellshocked sinking feeling of “This is my fault. I should have prevented this from happening,” and Mike’s feeling of horror and shock and, “Where did any of this come from? I just got here.”

And then later on El and Mike have their fight about him not being able to say I love you, which is confusing and full of gaslighting and contradictions and is super messy no matter how the cake is sliced, but Will is not there for any of this, so he has no reason to believe El and Mike are on the rocks. Because why would they be? He heard Mike say I love you to a room full of their friends a year ago. And Mike is clearly dealing with so many internal thoughts and conflicted feelings that he won’t share with the class- with the class being both Will and the audience- so post el’s arrest and post her “superhero” journey we have to watch Byler have these incredibly coded conversations that get increasingly more chaotic. Mike’s basically like, “Yeah bestie I’m not sure about this whole macaroni and cheese thing and I don’t know if me and El are really right for each other, you know? It was prolly like dumb luck or something, but you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Will, and I think we should work together as a team, as best friends, as lovers- wait, who said that? Anyway, what do you think, my totally platonic bestie?”

All this as [tender, emotional music] plays. And Will, even though it destroys him inside, is extraordinarily selfless, and is basically like, “I’m sure you and El will work things out and talk through whatever’s happening. You love each other. You are perfect for each other. And I will always be here to reassure you.” And Mike’s like, “That’s not how I envisioned this convo going. Are you sure?” And while holding back tears, Will’s like, “Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I be sure? Look at this painting I made you.” And Mike’s like “Wow 😍😍😍 did you make that for me?” And Will’s like, “Sure did! Actually El basically did. She commissioned it.” And Mike is like, “Oh. Okay. It’s still really beautiful tho. Which of course it is. Because you made it. But I… I’m confused. But I don’t fully understand why I’m confused. I’m glad El needs me! I think?”

Meanwhile, Byler literally wants the same things, they both deeply desire and love each other, but they don’t know how the other feels. And if they both paused for one second, were fully honest with each other, and stopped speaking in code, things would fall into place. And they could walk hand in hand, crazy together, into the apocalypse.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things

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lifenconcepts · 2 months

Note

you do have oc’s yes. give the lore now. That is an order, mister /j /nf

BHSXHHDOBSOXBXBI HAVE TOO MANY

UHM

I GOT LIKE A MILLION ESSAYS OF LORE FOR MOST BUT HERE ARE THE INTRODUCTIONS:

For this show I wanted to write I have 3 main guys I love dearly, Lifen Heid who is the main dude and German- is secretly holding some kind of power and yet isn’t aware of it. This spirit guy Fhelix (quite OP but is so fed up with every being that he litterally does not use his powers at all except for his main goal) knows though and was set off on a journey to help him become a god like he once was but can’t say what he’s doing otherwise they would both die an agonising death. They got some chemistry and lore together plus I advanced the plot into a full blown book. Robin, a side character whom I love dearly, is a pathetic little kid who was forced to flee from his planet from false vigilante accusations and resides in the realm (this whole new world only accessible through a portal) with Fhelix, whole ordeal, and also some other people that also had the same fate, basically heroes turned sour and he got trapped into their little group (There’s this massive group and all got their individual relationship with one another and personality but in short they’re like 15-23 year old losers with some sort of dramatic past and incredible talents (lemme tell you about them..) ) So there’s Batrose - an emo shithead who is 99% a sadist and is a very good swordsman, and despite that, he is in a relationship with Florence, an absolute sweetheart who also is quite a dangerous individual. Basically that meme template where they both can absolutely kill you but one visibly has intention and the other is bubbly. Both dress somewhat goth. There’s also Dan, a daredevil cat hybrid who always looks for trouble and is a horrid influence on Robin but I still love him, not too much older then him. Westifer is this ginger kid the same age as Dan and yet is much more secluded than the rest and has an amulet passed down from generation to generation which allows him to practically bend water to his will, but he sort of struggles with it. He has a floating blob of water he can activate anytime and it’s somewhat sentient and has bubbles for eyes but mostly just helps him get to places sometimes as it’s body can act as a cushion. Also has a pet flamingo named fern. There are some other others but they’re not worthy enough of being saved in my mind.

one of my newest two is Neil Wolfman, he got a shitload of lore which I could copy and paste here in a second. Absolutely adore him but in short he’s a pathetic little soggy boy who has a car and out of paranoia spends most time out in the suburbs and owns an adorable German shepherd named Arc. also this mad scientist I haven’t bothered with making a name for that I do quite love and is my most attacked character for art fight!

also idk if it counts but just any variety of me whenever I draw myself, ranges from abstract concept to realistic depiction to absolute goofy doodle to entirely new creature or human.

I also realised like not lately that they almost all were some representation from me and I was incredibly surprised.

#my ocs #lol #silly guy

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alexthebordercollie · 9 months

Text

To Love at all is to Love Entirely

Chapter 1: Homecoming

Warning contains masturbation scene

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ If you wish to skip the smut look for the rats. They appear and the start and end of sexual scenes. ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

︵‿୨ - March 10 1951 - ୧‿︵

“Félix stop!” Pepa whined playfully.

They would do this every now and again. His sisters and their husbands. They would get out the playing cards and a bottle of aguardiente and play poker into the late hours of the night. A sort of double date night. Loser takes a shot. He used to play with them sometimes. Unfortunately not having a partner always left him feeling like the odd man out.

This time he really was the odd man out.

“Escalera real mi vida.” Agustín purred.

Bruno took another swig from the bottle of rum that sat on a crate next to him. Every time his sisters lost he took a shot. A show of solidarity. Or maybe just alcoholism. He’d managed to swipe the bottle from a party and had been nursing it for close to a month. Tonight seemed like a good enough excuse to indulge a bit as he lay on a ratty twin-sized mattress on the floor. He set the bottle back down on the crate and rolled over to face the wall. Listening passively to their game night.

It sounded like they were having fun. He wasn’t missed. He wondered if they would act any differently if they knew he was there. He was happy for his sisters. They found good men who loved them dearly. Still… he couldn't help the bitterness in his throat. Lying there alone. Listening to their drunken flirting. He knew full well how their night would end. When he used to play with them they were a little more subtle. A little less shameless.

Maybe it was because he was the only bachelor in the room and they pitied him. Or maybe it was just the family treating him like a child again. Like they were under some delusion he was too fragile to process such mature information. He wasn’t a child though. He wasn’t naive. Far from it.

He heard the roars of his sisters and went to take another shot. Empty. That figures. It sounded like their game was wrapping up.

He sat up in bed clutching the empty bottle for a moment as he listened to them drunkenly shuffle up the stairs. A few of his rats stared up at him expectantly.

“Sí, sí, I know!” He hissed as soon as his sisters were out of earshot.

He tossed the bottle half-heartedly. Listlessly watching it bounce off the back of his armchair before rolling back towards the bed. The floor was slightly uneven. Of course it was. He hadn’t thrown it with enough force to break the glass but the clatter as it hit the floor was enough to scare off the rats. He had promised himself he’d make it last at least a month. He didn’t need his pets' judgmental eyes on him right now. He knew he was a failure. He didn’t need to be reminded.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

He flopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His mind wandered to the couples upstairs. He could feel his body tensing against his trousers.

“Meirda.” He groaned as he rubbed his eyes violently with his palms. He propped himself up on one arm and reached down to adjust himself so as to get some relief from his waistband. He was already so hard he winced at his own touch. He’d not been paying attention to his growing condition till now. Now he couldn’t ignore it. He tried to get his mind on something else, but the intrusive thoughts wouldn’t leave him. Floating circles in his brain no matter how much he protested.

He knew he shouldn’t think about his sisters like this. Imagining what it was like to be them. To be loved, touched, consumed…

He was already touching himself. Any semblance of self-control was out the window tonight. What was the point? It’s not like anyone would know. Dolores went to bed ages ago. Just him, god, the devil, and the rats.

He muttered faint profanities to himself as he ran his palm along his flesh. So engorged it hurt. He sat up a moment and pulled the crucifix he wore from his neck. If he was going to sin tonight it might be best to put it away. He’d hate to feel it burning into his collarbone all night.

He placed his necklace in the top drawer of his dresser for safekeeping. Leaving his pants and poncho on the floor before returning to bed and curling up under the covers. He gripped the covers over his shoulder with one hand as he lubricated the other with precum. Again he winced before letting out a deep sigh.

He’d been jealous of his sisters for years. He was sure no one really knew just how much. He’d been in denial himself at first. This repressed teenage boy staring longingly at the boys his hermanas courted. No woman had ever made him feel the way a man did. Not for lack of trying. He knew what other teenage boys could be like. The things they would say when one of the Madrigal women walked by. He’d tried to admire women's bodies the way they did. Even got caught once by a girl in town who slapped him hard enough to leave a mark. He’d rather he could have been a garden variety pervert over a degenerate sinner.

He put a hand over his mouth to muffle himself as he shuttered. He thought of the gruff working hands, the smell of cologne, sweat, and cigars. He bit down on his fingers. The thought of all the things a man could do to him. He was gripping himself tighter now. His movements were frantic and desperate as he shivered and jerked about under the covers.

He pulled his fingers into his mouth. Gnawing and sucking on them. He barely paid any mind to the wet rabid sounds that escaped his lips. He suckled frantically on his hand till his fingers began to swell from the abuse. He was growing increasingly tender and frustrated as he kept edging close to some kind of relief but never quite reaching it. He was growing lightheaded. He wanted more.

Curling in on himself he reached down with his abused fingers and began to probe himself. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. So desperate to cum it stopped mattering how. He would slide his fingers in with little effort though his breath still caught in his chest for a moment. He stopped stroking his dick as he curled his fingers inside himself. He was seeking out that sweet spot that would let him cum.

He let out a startled gasp as he felt the sharp jab of his fingernails against his favorite pressure point. He was gasping for air now, panting as he returned to stroking himself while his fingers went to work massaging his warm velvety insides. He wondered what it would be like to be penetrated by a real man. Someone unlike himself, the scrawny, cowardly, midget that he was. He felt his face go numb. He grew dizzy as he struggled to breathe. That pressure kept building but to no relief and his dick was getting tender and raw.

“Carajo!” He shouted in bitter frustration as he released himself. He collapsed onto his back and gasped out for air. “Por favor, Dios, Satán.” Whatever ethereal creature it was who saw fit to torture his every waking moment. “Just let me have this.” He whined as tears streamed down his hot, flushed, face.

He calmed himself enough to reach up and wipe the offending tears from his cheeks.

“Santo Dios, why am I like this?” He whimpered between fluttering breaths.

He just wanted some relief tonight. Anything to ease this pain. He didn’t care if it was sin. He didn’t care about hell. In this moment he just wanted to feel some pleasure. To feel something besides empty soul-crushing pain.

He looked over to the empty liquor bottle on the floor and a wicked thought struck him. A devious, rebellious thought. The neck of the bottle was a bit shy of an inch across two maybe three inches long. He wasn’t seriously considering this was he? He thought of his precious hermanas enjoying their night upstairs and that bitter resentment bubbled up in his gut. He’d already committed to being a degenerate tonight. What did it matter? He’d worry about his immortal soul tomorrow when he wasn’t drunk, horny, and angry.

He reached out for the bottle without leaving the somewhat comfortable confines of his bed.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He muttered as he turned the glass bottle over in his hands. He spat into his palm and stroked the neck of the bottle. It wasn’t close to the real thing but it was closer than his fingers ever could be. He kicked off the covers and felt his face flush with a humiliating heat as he reached down to line the neck of the bottle up with his entrance. Still puckered and tender from the abuse he’d done to himself earlier.

He took a shaky nervous breath and pressed down. This was a new low for him. He’d never done anything like this before. He wasn’t even sure he could take it, but he wanted it so badly… To be filled up by something, anything. The glass was cold and made him shiver. His body put up some resistance but he persisted.

“AY!” He let out a pained cry as the lip of the bottle made its way in and shot ripples of pain through his flesh. He clasped his free end over his mouth in a panic. He startled himself with his own girlish shriek. For a moment he lay there silently listening for any sound of human life. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He kept his mouth covered for fear of the sounds that might escape him. Slowly he began to press deeper in. He ground his fingertips against the stubble on his cheeks as he muffled a moan. Eyes closed. His head rolled back into the mattress as he made it all the way down the neck of the bottle. The glass was cold but silky smooth and it warmed gradually to his skin.

His hand started to slip loose from his mouth as he moaned from the sheer satisfaction. It felt so good. He’d speculated for years, but this was better than he’d imagined, and it wasn’t even the real thing. Imagine how that would feel. He started slowly, gently pulling back and pushing back in. Before long however that frantic hunger began to build again as he picked up speed.

He let go of his face and gripped the covers so tight his knuckles went white. He found himself bucking forward with each thrust. His legs trembled and his whole body rocked. He arched his back. Panting like a dog in heat. His movements were clumsy. His hand kept slipping on the smooth glass. The angle was difficult. It felt so good though, clumsy and rough though it was. That fullness, that feeling of being properly violated. The thought of strong hands on his body as he grew dizzy again.

As much as he loved this feeling it became apparent he wasn’t going to cum like this. He pulled the bottle out and rolled over onto all fours for a moment to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. He was sweating now, heaving. His arms were shaking as he struggled to support his own weight. He needed a new strategy. He needed some way to maintain a consistent angle and rhythm. He thought for a moment before bringing the bottle to his face and slipping the neck into his mouth. The glass was warm and tasted sweet and metallic. With a fresh coat of lubrication, he sat upright on his knees and placed it between his ankles.

He leaned back till his palms hit the mattress. Supporting his weight on his arms as he lowered himself down onto the bottle. This time there was no pain, no resistance, it slid in effortlessly. He let out a grateful sigh.

“Joder eso es bueno.”

For a moment he just rested back on his hands enjoying the feeling. This was it, one last try, and if he couldn’t manage it this time he’d just have to cut his losses for the night. He was slower this time as he started practicing rocking his hips up and down. His feet crossed each other. Toes curling. Calves flexing as he pulled his legs as tight around the bottle as he could manage. This was much smoother, more controlled. He moaned softly and his head rolled back.

He considered stroking his cock one more time but decided against it. It was still tender and the pressure inside him sent a pleasure that radiated through his cock. This was enough, for now, this was all he wanted. Just this slow even pace. Just enjoying the feeling. Listening to his body.

Eventually, that pressure began to rise again causing him to pick up the pace. This time his movements were precise and deliberate. It got harder to maintain that smooth fluid motion the faster he got but with some focus he could manage it. He just had to keep that stable rhythm going. Just a little longer. His cock ached and trembled. He grew light-headed again. Worried that sweet release would illude him he brought one of his hands up to his dick and stroked himself gently. Just the slightest touch was all it took to finally send him over the edge.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe. His whole body tensed as he felt the hot sticky substance dribble down his fingers. He came in deep shuttering waves. The throbbing satisfying stretch of thick cum pulsing through his cock. When it finally stopped he waited to catch his breath for a moment. His eyes fluttered open. He looked down at himself…

He was disgusted with what he saw. His hideous filthy body. Why would anyone love someone so repulsive? Much less another man? He awkwardly dislodged himself before collapsing on the bed. Avoiding the puddle he’d left on the mattress.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

What had he just done?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He was sweaty and winded and tired. So tired. He knew it was wrong. For a man to want the things he did. There were a lot of things wrong about him. This was just another defect to add to the pile. Why should this matter more than any of the other humiliating mistakes he’d made in his life? At least no one knew about this. This was a defect he could keep all to himself.

There was something oddly comforting in that.

︵‿୨ - October 17 1950 - ୧‿︵

Bruno lay on his mattress for a while, muscles sore, eyes still glued shut from sleep. He’d been awake for some time just listening to the sound of falling sand, the little paw steps of his rats. A few of the little creatures were still snuggled up along the length of his body for warmth. It had been a five months since he moved back into his old room.

The rest of the family had wanted to refurnish the room for him after they saw its sorry state but, to their dismay, he’d chosen instead to cram all his tattered belongings into a little cave in the wall of his tower. It wasn’t always so bad. One would think it would have been good as new after the house had been rebuilt, but no, that was just his luck. It was all the same to him in any case. He wasn’t quite yet ready to part completely with the little home he’d made for himself in the walls.

It wasn’t much, but just moving back to his old room alone was stressful and surreal. To Casita's credit, he’d forgotten how soothing the curtain of sand was at night, all the nights it helped him fall asleep as a child.

Juanita began to nuzzle at his scruffy cheek and when that proved fruitless started lapping at his skin, her little teeth grazing his face.

“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m up.” he groaned though he couldn't help the grin that her persistence brought to his face.

No doubt she was pestering him for her breakfast. He’d been keeping rats for years, ever since he was a child. It started with a single mated pair. He took them in after Pepa kicked one of them across the kitchen and broke its leg. It was just going to be temporary, just until they were well enough to be released. He couldn’t help but get attached. It took a lot of cajoling when Mamá found out to get her to let him keep them. No doubt she never expected the population to explode like it did.

It took a bit of limp, half-hearted, flailing to get the feeling back in his limbs and shake off the sleep. A good yawn and a stretch to get fresh oxygen to his brain. As he craned backward he heard a loud crack that echoed off the walls of the tower and sent a brief shiver down his spine. That got his eyes open. He rubbed a palm along the sore spot in his lower back and cleaned the sleep from his eyes before cracking his neck, then his knuckles. He stared down at the old mattress on the floor. Maybe it was time to get a new bed at least.

Climbing up to his feet he watched as the rats started poking their heads out of every nook and cranny, eyeing him expectantly. A few sleeping rats tumbled off his poncho onto the bed. He chuckled as he watched Carlos wriggle on his back only to sink deeper into one of the mattress's many dents.

“Easy mijo I got you.” he reassured and reached down to scoop up his pet. Carlos lay contentedly in his arms like a baby and Bruno gave his belly a tickle. The rat squealed playfully and scurried up his arm to his shoulder and made a nest in Bruno’s mat of curly black hair. Their little claws still tickled after all these years, their shiny eyes and twitching noses filled him with a comforting warmth. As he turned to leave others poured from their cubbies and started to pool about his ankles. Walking down the stone steps and carefully avoiding tiny, eager tails he started to wonder if he may have become somewhat of a crazy cat lady. He dismissed the thought, surely not, these are rats, it’s completely different. Rats actually love you back.

As he made it to the bottom of the steps he looked around the cavernous room. Every morning it seemed to look a little different than the night before. It had grown very empty and deteriorated over the years. It was starting to look a bit better. The sand curtain now fell into a working grate in the floor, you could actually see the floor. A decorative tile floor was slowly creeping out from the center of the room, consuming the dull wood planks, and a few more of the steps had grown back. He couldn’t spot anything too noticeable today, but this house was always full of surprises and he was sure he’d spot something by the end of the day.

Poking his head out into the hall he could hear a commotion in the courtyard. The house was usually pretty noisy but this was something else. He padded down the steps to the catwalk. Careful to avoid his many sobrinos as they scurried past. He still walked softly out of habit so as not to make any sound that might disturb the peace.

A sudden roar shook him. Reverberating through his blood and jolting a very primal fear into action. Whiping around to spot the source of the danger.

There was Antonio with one of the worlds most dangerous predators. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. His brain failing to keep up with his instincts as he bolted forward. No thoughts on what he'd do only afraid for his littlest sobrino. His racing heart stopped dead as he watched the boy dive over the balcony to the floor below on the back of a jaguar.

Seconds passed that felt like years.

Then laughter.

“Vez! Vez!” Antonio cheered to his terrifying pet.

Bruno gasped with relief. Freeing the breath he'd been holding. He never much liked cats. Didn’t trust them. Esspecially a cat like that. Antonio looked alright though. Maybe he was worrying to much. Antonio could talk to animals, the animals all seemed to like him well enough. So what if Parce was a nearly four-hundred-pound killing machine. Everyone else seemed to be rolling with it.

“Me asusta terriblemente también.”

Bruno yelped as he jumped back from the railing.

He turned to see Pepa leaning over the guardrail next to him. She sighed as she watched her son playing with his jaguar in the courtyard. Parce bolted back up the steps and rushed past them in a flurry of spots.

“I don’t know how you manage.” Bruno breathed. Rubbing at the aching dent in his chest.

“Lo juro el niño is going to give me a heart attack” She agreed before shifting the weight of a basket she carried on her hip.

“To think. You used to be scared of rats.” Bruno teased.

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you.” Pepa grumbled a gray cloud forming over her adorable scrunched face.

“Eh, lo justo es justo hermana.” He grinned and shot her finger guns. His sister groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Between you and Tonito I’ll be lucky if I make it to forty.”

“But you’re fifty.” Bruno replied awkwardly. Admittedly it felt a little weird to say it out loud himself. Sometimes he forgot just how old he was, it was truly uncanny to him how fast time flew.

“Fifty-one as of today.” Mirabel chimed as she skipped up the stairs to plant a kiss on her uncle’s cheek.

Bruno froze up at first from the gesture. He'd grown so unaccustomed to human touch over the years. He only took a second to recompose himself before ruffling his sobrina's hair. She smiled brightly back at him. She really was a miracle. This bright beautiful girl who brought him out of his cave. She reminded him how it felt to be loved. So many years he’d watched her grow through the cracks in the walls. Now he could finally feel the warmth of her skin and gaze lovingly into those beautiful brown eyes.

“No, not yet!” Pepa curtly corrected, accented by a low rumble of thunder. “Until nine forty PM, I’m still fifty” She huffed. Her husband Félix crept up behind her and tickled the back of her neck with kisses that made her giggle like a schoolgirl. Wrapping his strong arms around her petite waist he reassured his wife.

“Fifty or five hundred mi vida you’re still as beautiful as the day we met.”

“Eres un gran coqueto.” She chided playfully as she ran her free hand along his jawline.

Bruno pretended to vomit over the railing, loud enough for his sister to hear. Pepa shot daggers at him as Félix and Mirabel laughed. It felt good, making his family laugh. It was one of the few things he was good at growing up. Even if Mamá didn’t always appreciate it.

“Did you find the decorations Tía Pepa?” Mirabel chimed.

“They were in Mamá's closet, I had to clean them up a bit but they’re in pretty good shape all things considered.”

Pepa passed the basket over to Mirabel. Bruno pressed himself against the railing to make space for them and noticed as it passed by him, a familiar lime green fabric he hadn’t seen in ages. When they were young his mother had sat him and his sisters down to stitch birthday banners the three of them had used for years. As they got older the banners were used less and less. But there was his. The poorly stitched character smiling back at him.

“Honestly I don’t know why she wanted to use these, they’re embarrassing.”

“Come now Pepa, today is special. I wanted to do something special.” Their madre insisted as she stepped out into the hall. She reached up instinctively to wave away the small cloud above her daughter's head before stopping herself and patting her cheek instead. Bruno felt a dozen tiny paws clamber up his pant legs and cling to his shirt to hide beneath his poncho.

Pepa sighed and her brother had to agree. “S-she’s right Mamá these are a bit silly don’t you think?”

Bruno’s voice cracked awkwardly and made him feel like a child.

“Well I think they’re adorable” Mirabel grinned as she pulled the banner out to inspect her uncle’s childish doodles. Bruno reached out to stuff it back into the basket. “Ay, don’t look too closely at that!” He sheepishly insisted.

“Ma if I’d remembered it was our birthday I would have gotten up early to help everyone set up.”

“Nonsense Brunito, it’s your first year back. We wanted you to relax and enjoy your special day.” His mother cooed as she brushed a lock of unruly hair out of his face.

It was strange seeing her so soft and doting. He heard his sister grumble though their mother didn’t seem to notice. It had been like this since he properly returned to family life. His mother had been doting on him more than she ever had when they were kids and he was sure everyone was starting to notice.

“A big party like this? I dunno, I think I should just sit this one out.” He stammered out, wringing his hands close to his chest, small.

“I get it,” Mirabel piped up. “You’ve not got the best reputation.” She drastically downplayed.

“We were gonna do a small little family thing but somebody had to go and blab to the whole town.”

She chastised her cousin who poked her head out one of the many doors to call back indignantly. “You shouldn’t have sent me to pick up the groceries. You know how Señora Florez is with the chisme tax. What was I supposed to do?”

Mirabel shook her head as Mamá put a hand on Bruno’s shoulder. His mother lifted his chin to face her with a gentle touch.

“Go get something to eat then talk to Isabela, see if she can’t do something with your hair.”

“Uh, sure thing Ma.” He replied awkwardly before slipping back out of her orbit and nearly tumbling backwards down the stairs. Mirabel caught him and propped him up with the basket before nodding down to the kitchen.

The kitchen smelled like heaven. His sister's cooking always did. He used to joke that God gave him a big nose so he could better appreciate her food.

“There you are.” Julieta chimed as she turned from rolling out dough to greet him.

Bruno smiled and gave her a little wave. “Sí, mis niños were hungry.” he chuckled shyly.

Juanita poked their snoot out of his sleeve to sniff around hungrily.

“Alright guys you can come out now la señora atemorizante’s gone.” He shook his poncho to agitate the rats who flooded out into a pool on the floor around him. Mirabel stepped back sucking in her lips awkwardly as she admired the hoard. Julieta jumped a little as she turned around to clean her hands on her apron and saw the battalion of furry creatures on her clean kitchen floor.

Bruno wasn’t oblivious. “I can keep them in my room if they’re in the way.” He scratched his face. “I guess I didn’t think too much about it before. They like to follow me around but usually, it was just us in here at night.”

A flash of sadness crossed his sister's face. Bruno could only imagine how that must how sounded. The images it conquered up. He'd largely avoided thinking too much about what he looked like from an outsider's perspective. He couldn't bring himself to self-reflect… it took his mind to dark places. Thinking on it now though as he saw the look in his hermana's eyes? The image of him scowering the kitchen in the dead of night with the rats.

Julieta quickly collected herself as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

“Oh, it’s fine, as long as you keep them off the counter.”

Bruno reached back with his foot to subtly pull Rossa down from the knob of a cabinet with his toes.

“Oh sí, no problema.” He smiled nervously.

“I always wondered where all my food was going. Felt like I was feeding an army, turns out I really was.” She laughed and her warm voice soothed the growing tension in his chest.

Julieta reached into a warmer on the counter to pull out a couple of arepas to toss to her brother. Bruno fumbled the catch slightly and thanked her. As he went to take a bite Juanita climbed up on his shoulder and reached out to give it a sniff. She looked up at him with big round eyes and he caved immediately.

“Alright, I’ll let you have the first bite. Only cause you’ve been good lately.”

Leaning back against the table he started to pull a piece off for her only to jump at the sound of Julieta’s scolding.

“Oh no you don’t!” She stopped him and scooped Jaunita off his shoulder. She held the rat awkwardly far from her body. Doing her best to be gentle. “That’s your breakfast you eat.” She said, holding Juanita as if she were a loaded gun. “I’ll find something for… tus niños.” She put Juanita down on the floor and went to wash her hands before leading the rats to the pantry.

Mirabel watched the tiny parade in mild astonishment. “That’s a lot of rats.”

“You think that’s a lot.” Bruno muffled through a mouthful of food. “These are just the more social ones. A lot of them are still too shy to leave my room.”

“How many do you have?” She queried as she set the basket down on a free patch of countertop. Casita carried off the embarrassing banners to god knows where.

“Fifty three… no fifty eight since Beatrice had her litter. Speakings of, I should check on them later, see if she needs new bedding. Bring her something to eat.”

Mirabel was stunned silent for a moment and Bruno could feel her eyes on him as he stuffed the last bite of arepa into his mouth. After a few agonizing seconds of owl eyes staring Bruno couldn't take it anymore. He wiped the crumbs from his mouth and hurried to defend himself. Stammering as he looked for the right words to say.

“Look I-I know not everyone gets it, b-but rats are great, they’re smart and affectionate, and…” he realized he’d been leaning in a little too close and was slightly hovering over Mirabel in his enthusiasm. Instinctively he shrunk back down.

“I mean, I get why people, you know, just…”

Mirabel put a hand on his to steady him as he started dissolving in front of her.

“They love su familia, you know.” He explained, looking back into her eyes. He’d never stop being amazed by the understanding he found in them.

Mirabel gave him a knowing smile. “Don’t worry about it. You're not the only one with weird pets. Antonio has a whole jungle in his room, I’m sure he’d love to get to hear all about them.” She patted his hand before pushing off the kitchen table and lacing her fingers behind her back.

“You should go clean up. The guests should start showing up soon.”

“Ah caray, is it that late?”

“Tío it’s six in the afternoon” She laughed. Bruno blushed as he realized just how late he'd slept in. He was laegly nocturnal for the last decade and adapting to a normal schedule had been difficult. He really didn't intent to sleep the day away. Why couldn't his mother have woken him up?

Bruno hurried off to look for Isabela.

“Finally,” Isabela tutted as she led him to the washroom. “I wanted to wake you up earlier but Abuela said to let you sleep in. We’re running out of time and I’m not letting nuestro cumpleañero look like un indigente.”

“Little harsh mija” he whined as she shoved him into a chair propped up against the bathroom sink.

He remembered how sweet and spunky she was when she was little. The world around him may have been fast and loud but he couldn’t help but reminisce. He remembered helping his hermana clean paint from Isabela's hair when she was four. The frantic rush to contain the mess before their mother got home. She was so small then. This little ray of sunshine and mischief trying to spread beauty wherever she went. Nowadays she had developed a much sharper tongue and a spiteful temper that could be a bit scary up close.

“I’ll see if I can’t work my magic.” She cracked her knuckles and circled around him inspecting his hair.

“EEEK!” She squealed as she uncovered Carlos still nesting under his curls.

Carlos leaped out in fear and scurried off. Bruno tried to reach for him but he was off and around the corner before he could say anything.

Isabela took a deep breath and rubbed at her temples. “Tu y Antonio… está bien, perdón, no pasa nada.” She paced for floor before retreating to the edge of the tub. She had a few different bowls of sweet-smelling goo he couldn’t quite identify. He could see the gears turning in her head as she formulated a plan of attack.

“This seems like a lot don’t you think?”

“Oh this is just the start, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me to recover that duty rats next you call hair. At least for tonight, I think I can get it presentable.” She warned ominously as she brought a bowl over to set by the sink and called out to her father.

“Eh Papi! Poca ayuda por aquí.”

Agustín, who was chatting with his wife in the kitchen, stopped to call back. “Oh, we’re doing this now?”

“Sí ahora!” His daughter snapped back.

“Doing what? Excuse me, what exactly did I agree to?”

Isabela shoved her tío back in the chair and pushed his head back into the sink to rinse his hair.

“Don’t worry about it. Just relax and let me handle things okay?”

Bruno tried hard not to recoil at his sobrina's touch as she raked her fingers along his scalp. Someone else might have found it soothing but he could help but feel anxious getting this much attention. His cuñado came in with a shaving kit and started setting up.

“Ey, gracias, p-pero no. I can do that myself, you know.”

“No time Tío Bruno. This is faster, just let Papi help you.” Isabelle chided as she shifted her weight to the side to make more space for her father and smeared something under his eyes before scrubbing his scalp. Whatever it was it smelled of aloe.

Agustín inspected the razor, seemingly oblivious to Bruno’s discomfort as he squeaked out a “Cómo no?” through grit teeth.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

The following half-hour felt like centuries as his nails bored grooves in the arms of the wooden dining chair. He tried his best to make idle small talk and avoid making Agustín laugh with a razor pressed against his throat.

Once all was said and done Isabela tied his hair back into a short ponytail and he got a good look at himself in the mirror. Despite his misgivings, considering Agustín’s usual clumsiness, he’d never managed such a clean shave himself. Perhaps it was a byproduct of growing up in a house full of women. His hair looked a lot cleaner and softer, shiny even, and he could swear Isabela must have done something to cover up some of the gray streaks while she was at it. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Whatever gunk she had smeared on his face earlier had brought a bit of life back to his skin and the dark circles under his eyes were less intense now.

It almost felt as if he'd been robbed of something, though he couldn't quite articulate what had been lost.

He almost couldn’t recognize himself in the mirror as he prodded gently at his face. Isabela smirked confidently behind him as her father scurried off to put the supplies away.

“Sometimes I amaze even myself.”

“You did a great job.” he muttered softly.

Isabela’s face softened as she seemed to notice how small he shrunk the more he looked at his reflection. She wrapped her arms around his scrawny neck.

“Happy birthday Tío Bruno.” She smiled meekly. Isabela was anything but meek. “Between you and me, this was my idea.” She admitted. “I just wanted you to feel good on your birthday. I thought it would help.”

Bruno could feel a knot form in his stomach as he heard guests start to funnel in. Isabela had been hoping to boost his confidence using her most familiar means. He turned to hug his oldest sobrina. She smelled of succulents and even after all these years she still felt small in his arms.

“Me hiciste falta.” she whispered softly.

“Me hiciste falta también, cariña.”

“Come on, the party’s starting.” Agustín ushered them out into the courtyard.

Already the Casita was filled with life and music. Antonio was impressing the neighbor kids with his many exotic pets as they darted outside to play in the yard. He could see Luisa and her mother resting with some cold lemonade and having a laugh. Camillo had filled the corner with kids his own age who all seemed enthralled with whatever tales he was spinning. He watched as his sobrino briefly shifted into an intimidating caricature of him only to change back the second they made eye contact. Pepa was dancing with her husband and Mirabel supervised the folks cued up to grab food from the table set up along the side of the courtyard.

Bruno had seen a great deal of Madrigal parties but this one felt different. Usually, the Madrigals would all be on their feet entertaining, but most of the family seemed to be taking it a bit easier this time around. The decorations were less intensely curated, more chaotic, and casual. The music was… He turned to see Dolores and her new novio on the piano. Ah, that explained it. She looked utterly enthralled with him though as she sat next to him drinking in his baritone voice and questionable lyrics.

Isabela recognized a young man in the crowd and flagged him down while Agustín went to help Mirabel in the kitchen leaving Bruno alone on the sidelines. He knocked anxiously along the wall behind him, took a deep breath, and crossed his fingers. Everything seemed to be going alright so far but he couldn't be too careful. As he released his breath he was grateful for the space he’d now been afforded. It was nice to just sit back and watch without being the center of anyone's attention. He hoped it would stay that way and he wouldn’t have to make idle chit-chat with his neighbors. More than anything he hoped he wouldn’t find some way to make a scene of himself.

He felt little paws skitter up his pant leg.

“There you are Carlos.” he scooped up the gray white-bellied rat and looked him over to be sure he wasn’t too shaken up. “Lo siento por Isabela. Va a dejarse convencer, tal vez…” He stroked the top of Carlos’s head with his finger and sighed. “Oh, a quién engaño?” He didn’t know what would possess him to lie like that. Carlos was a rat, people hate rats, there was no changing that.

“Bruno!” Boomed a cheery voice.

“Dios me dé fuerza.” he muttered under his breath as he tucked Carlos under his collar. Portly Osvaldo waddled up to give him a friendly slap on the back that nearly knocked him over.

“It’s good to see you. Looking good mi amigo you clean up nice.”

“Hola Osvaldo.” He forced out with an exasperated sigh. “How’s that diet working out for you?” Bruno asked dryly as observed a belt fastened two sizes too small. Not that he cared but he felt obligated to try and make conversation. He didn't mind a man's weight. He could care less if he was fat, but this man's insecurities had added to Bruno's bad reputation in the past. He had very little sympathy for him.

“Am I meeting my goal this year?” he asked excitedly.

“It wasn’t a vision, just a guess…” Not that Osvaldo was even listening.

“No never mind, don’t tell me. Yo no quiero mala suerte.” Osvaldo put his hands in his pockets and beamed proudly. “I’ve managed to commit to it all month.”

“Well good luck with that.” Bruno replied as he tried to scoot away. Only to have Osvald put a hand on his shoulder and keep chattering with total abandon.

“Did you do something with your hair? You look ten years younger.”

“Yeah, you can thank mi sobrina for that. Isabela she uh…” He trailed off as he noticed Mirabel had returned to her post and caught her eye from across the room with a pleading look.

Much to his relief she recognized his discomfort and hurried over to distract Osvaldo with some sweets.

“Hey Senor Ortiz. I know how much you love my mom’s desserts. She’s been trying out some new recipes. You’ve just got to try them,”

Mirabel winked back at Bruno as Osvald blabbed on about his diet, giving Bruno the green light to flee. Bruno hated relying on Mirabel like this but he wasn't ready to deal with these people just yet and he knew she wouldn't mind, being the social butterfly she was.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

Most of the night carried on in a similar fashion as various neighbors made awkward attempts to chat with him. Some stumbled out awkward half-hearted apologies for past mistreatment. Others would try to be friendly and supportive out of a sense of obligation and chew his ears with idle chatter. Petty small things that didn’t interest him. One woman nearly choked on her drink when she spotted one of his rats chewing at his hair tie. Still, others largely avoided him and cast him occasional unsure glances between whispers. Unsurprising. He wasn’t expecting the town to change overnight. He knew most of the people who tried to make a show of being friendly only did so to appease his mother. Not that he could blame them. In the end, he probably would have spent the night in his room if it weren’t for her.

There were a few times in the night he found himself suppressing the urge to try and ward off any possible hiccups in the night but knew that would draw attention to him. The best he could do was silently hope and pray, much as it killed him worrying over the consequences of denying his rituals. That uncontrollable gnawing urge to knock and throw salt. Fortunately, as the night wore on he did relax a bit. It seemed everyone else was a bit less wound up than usual and as he managed to survive more and more awkward encounters he slowly became more convinced that the night might actually go off without a hitch.

Eventually his mother announced cake and gifts from the top of the stairs and everyone started shuffling outside. He wasn’t thinking about gifts. He hadn’t had a birthday gift in a long time. Of course, he dreaded being the center of attention but at least he was sharing the spotlight with his hermanas so that did help a bit.

Mirable dragged him outside by his sleeve to catch up with the rest. He groaned inwardly when he saw the old birthday banners had been hung on the wall outside. Nested proudly above the table where the cake and gifts had been set up. Three chairs all in a row with those silly banners above each one.

Pepa was already seated and seemed as embarrassed by her crude childhood monstrosity as he was. Clouds of fog obscuring her face in shame. The whole thing was covered with crooked rainbows and smiley faces, and many of the stitches had long come undone leaving small holes in the embroidery.

Julieta seemed to be taking it with grace though. That was no surprise, at least her banner had been made with some competence. Little smiling dough balls and cooking tools danced along the baby blue banner around her name.

They were turning six and it had been their mother’s idea to make banners together to bond and teach them a new skill. She was so charmed by the stupid things that they used them every year for the next eight years. The smiling cartoon rat on Bruno’s banner stared back at him tauntingly. He’d been pretty fond of the illustrations in his children's books so tried to recreate his favorite character holding an hourglass. It was a testament to his handiwork how few people could actually recognize the character.

The cheery banners were pretty bittersweet. They certainly didn’t portray what it was really like growing up alone with Alma. Behind closed doors? Strict routines, high standards, harsh punishments. He still vividly remembered the sting of his mother’s chancla.

Bruno took his seat between his sisters and the town and family all gathered around as candles were lit to sing cumpleaños. He may have been anxious about the crowd but being surrounded by his familia like this, seeing all his sobrinos gathered around the table, he thought back to so many birthdays alone in the walls. Singing along, wishing his sisters well. He kept shifting his weight about, tapping his foot. He smiled wide and hung his head laughing as he tried hard not to let it show. He wasn't going to cry. He couldn't. Not in front of so many people.

“Time to blow out the candles.” His mother chimed as the few stragglers in the back finally stopped singing. Bruno looked side to side at his sisters who seemed to be wearing the same melancholy smiles as him. He could see that sad shine in their eyes that reassured him he wasn’t alone.

Mamá held up a hand and the crowd chanted all along.

“Tres, dos, uno.”

Bruno leaned in with his sisters to blow the candles out together and for the first time, it felt real to him. He was home.

SPLAT!

He felt a hand jerk his head forward into the cake as soon as the candles were out. Stunned for a brief moment he lifted his head slowly as his hermana's laughter filled his ears and he tried to blink the frosting from his eyes.

Now he was home.

He let out a chuckle and stuck his tongue out to lick the cake from his face. It tasted… different.

“Hey Julieta, did you do something different with the recipe?” He started to ask tentatively.

“I made that one.” Mirable who was leaning on the table next to her mother chirped.

“Oh, well I mean it’s still good,” he reassured, stuffing more cake into his mouth “It’s just different.” He muffled through a mouthful of cake.

“I made another one so there’d be enough to go around.” Julieta explained as she got up to take a much larger cake from Lusia and find a good spot for it at the table. Only to turn and see her brother shoveling another bite of mutilated birthday cake into his mouth with his fingers.

The rest of the night was full of laughter. His unease finally lifted. He properly enjoyed opening gifts with his hermanas. Secretly grateful the cake had helped him save face in front of the crowd. Each of the kids had gotten a gift for him this year.

Some homemade shampoo from Isabela who playfully threatened him if she didn’t see him using it. Luisa had made little wooden sculptures for the three of them, a new hobby she’d taken up. She wasn’t very good at it yet though the gesture was sweet. Dolores had wrapped one of Julieta's empanadas as an inside joke which made him beam though his sisters were clueless as to why. Camillo got him a pair of stilts as a gag gift and all he could do was stare sarcastically as his nephew nearly fell over laughing. Little Antonio made some crude climbing toys for his rats to play with.

His cuñados even brought something over much to his surprise. “Félix and I picked this out for you together.” Agustín explained as he passed Bruno a large flat box that hadn’t been wrapped.

“Oh you guys didn’t have to.”

“Trust me you need this.” Félix assured as he gestured to the box.

Opening the box revealed a simple three-piece suit, it was mauve and a bit plain yet still felt like a bit too much. It even came with a decent pair of loafers. Do doubt his cuñados caught the bewilderment on his face.

“Hey I wanted to get you something more casual but Agustín over here just had to make a big deal out of it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a good suit, you want to go more casual, you just wear the shirt and trousers. This is more versatile than what you wanted to get him.”

Bruno just stared down at the baffling gift.

“We had to guess a bit on the measurements but Julieta and I can make adjustments if you need.”

Finally roused from his daze he stumbled out. “Oh, uh, no this is… it’s… I’ll try this on later.” He smiled back.

“Nonsense.” His mother insisted. “You should go get changed, show everyone how handsome you look.”

Some folks in the crowd got a good laugh at that. A few tried to cheer him on. Cheering or jeering. He couldn’t always tell the difference.

“Oh no Ma, I mean I don’t wanna hold everyone up waiting on me.”

“Difícilmente es una imposición mijo.”

Mirabel came to his rescue yet again as she whispered something to her Abuela. Bruno could see the disappointment in Mamá's face but she quickly plastered on a smile. He felt a pit form in his stomach. He hated to disappoint her, hated that Mirabel had to come to his rescue like he was an anxious child.

“You know, you’re right. You can show it off tomorrow after we’ve had a chance to take it in a bit.” assured him.

A chubby hand pushed a brightly decorated gift onto the table in front of him as he tucked the suit away on the floor. The gift was soft with colorful scribbles all over the wrapping paper and a big bow on top. He looked up to see Mirable had saved her gift for last. Her eyes glittered from the twinkling lights.

“That just leaves mine, Tío Bruno.”

Bruno unwrapped it slowly, doing his best to preserve her lovely drawings. Neatly folded inside was a green ruana not unlike the poncho he’d worn for years. The pattern was similar but the fabric was new. Mirabel's signature scribbles danced along the hourglasses, they were small but the little pops of color gave the old pattern some new life. She was really trying her best to break him tonight wasn’t she?

He took off his old poncho exposing the rags he wore underneath and put it on. He didn’t care about the other guests. It was so warm and soft.

“How do you like it?” Mirable asked.

He pulled her in for a hug and held her close for a moment. “It's perfect mi vida.” he breathed.

“I thought you’d like it.” She held his hands in hers as they separated. Stretching out that moment of contact just a few heartbeats longer. Pouring so much love into her touch.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

After the gifts were all done the party slowly died down. In the late hours of the night as folks were starting to clean up Dolores came to tap him on the shoulder as he helped sweep crumbs and confetti from the patio. Mamá wanted to speak with him in her room. Unsure what this was about he shrugged and passed the broom off to her before heading upstairs to see what she wanted.

Her door was open and he could see her sitting on the foot of the bed as he peered inside. He tapped the frame of the door with his knuckles to get her attention. She looked up like she had been lost in thought. Without thinking he knocked on the doorframe compulsively. Worried about what her distant expression could mean. Worried about all the things that could go wrong when he spoke. Knocking kept the thoughts at bay. If only barely.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Sí, sí, come sit.” She patted the bed next to her, pulling her shawl tight over her chest.

Bruno closed the door behind him and sat down by his mother. He slumped forward with his hands clasped between his knees and waited to see what she had to say. Mamá wrapped an arm around him and stared at the floor but said nothing. She opened her mouth once or twice like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Eventually Bruno worked up the courage to break the silence.

“Soo, nice party. I managed to make it all day sin arruinar nada. That’s something, right?”

Mamá wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. The gesture was sudden and while small managed to knock the wind out of him. She rested his head on her shoulder and stroked his hair. Gripping him tight. Slowly he lifted his hands to hug her, patting her back gently. The silent candlelight of her dim room was deafening. A mix of tension and warmth and grief and comfort…

“Eh, Ma did you need something?” He asked softly. He froze and fought back the heat in his eyes as he was met with a sharp intake of breath.

“Just let me hold you, Brunito.” Her voice quivered. Bruno looked up to see the tears spilling over. Streaming down her cheeks and leaving dark tracks on her flushed skin.

Hurriedly he pulled himself up to her face. “Oh no, don’t cry, Mamá don’t cry. If you start crying then I’m gonna… Whatever it is I didn’t mean to…” He couldn't breathe. Please stop. He prayed she would stop. It hurt. He could feel the twisting pain in his chest. He tried to form words but grief ripped a hole in his throat. All his pained loving words bleeding out onto the floor. Never to be heard.

“P-perdóname.” She choked out. Bruno starred. Quietly awestruck by words he never thought he’d hear. Words that burned his ears. Drilled into his skull. “I never meant to push you away.” she sobbed.

He hugged her and held her tight. Her fingers boring into his back as she held on like she feared he’d evaporate in her arms. He could feel his eyes threatening to betray him as her body shuddered with near-silent sobs. He couldn't do this. He couldn't accept her apology. Not after he hurt her so. This was his fault. He was a bad son. All she ever did was love him. She worked so hard to give him a home, a life, to build a safe place for him and his hermanas. It was all he could do to fight back the tears. He had to be strong for her. At least this once he could hold her and be a good man.

“Está bien Mama.” He rubbed small circles on her back like she used to do when he was very small. “Está bien Mamá, I never left.”

He didn't know how long they stayed together like that. He held her as she sobbed and clung to her long lost hijo. So many thoughts spiraled through his mind. So many memories. Good and bad. Pain and joy. Love… Love that hurt so much to remember. Despite the pain he kept it inside. He refused to overwhelm her with his grief. For all her faults. For all the days they'd fought. He still loved her. He still missed her every day. Missed her touch. He missed the way she would hold him when he was a boy. He was a man now. He needed to be there for her. To take care of her like his father never could.

︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵

Bruno only returned to his room in the early hours of the morning. Long after everyone else had gone to bed. Fatigue seeped into his bones as he hobbled up the steps to his bed. He moved like a ghost through the quiet desert. He stopped at the entrance to his cubby and leaned over to open Beatrice's nesting box. An old jewelry box which sat on a small table by his “comfy” chair. He'd emptied it out and filled it with scraps of tissue paper and old rags. A small blue doe gazed lovingly back up at him. Wide shining eyes as her pups nursed from her chubby belly.

“Sorry I didn’t get around to it sooner.” He muttered as he dropped a small piece of cheese into her box and watched as the grateful young mother nibbled greedily while her five pink little beans suckled.

He turned to his bed only to stop in his tracks.

The old floor mattress that had plagued his aching back for years was gone. In its place, a full-sized bed sat waiting. Simple dark wooden frame, green sheets with patterned trim. He stood by it a moment brushing the covers with his fingertips. He didn't know why his room changed when it did. Casita didn't seem to have answers to give him. He didn't think these changes were Castia's doing. This room was his and it seemed to have a life of its own. Right now though? He didn't care where the bed came from or why. He couldn't care less. He was too empty to care.

His legs gave out from under him and he flopped face-first onto the bed. His eyes burned as he soaked the fresh new sheets. Too tired to fight it. Too tired to move. Eventually, he fell asleep. The best sleep he’d had in a long time.

#encanto #encanto oc #bruno madrigal #tlaa #madrigal family #fanfic #smut #light angst

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