#i hate procreate pocket

[generalwprayman]

My ears feel like they're underwater holy crap

Anyways bad doodle because I'm sick and frankly tired 😭 I guess when I get better I'll redo this one

[vampire-cookie]

my many chives. i am so obsessed with this guy

[dcbutinamrev]

Anyone who has procreate in the Outsiders fandom to do their doodles/art, please give me some beginner procreate tips and tricks as a beginner procreate user who has so many ideas she wants to draw (cough cough her OCs) like what brushes you rec, your fav canvas size, etc. etc. I just got procreate pocket today since I don’t have an ipad but I do have an iPhone. So any Procreate advice for a rookie who just wants to doodle her OCs and the Curtis gang and her fav ships 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

[evie-designs]

Gods I’ve been yapping too much, I need to shut the fuck up.

ANYWAY here’s a reminder that I don’t draw just Sonic (shocker I know, believe me, this is like, TWO seconds away from becoming a Sonic Art Blog….it might actually become a Sonic art blog ngl…)

This might make people hate me, it might not, idk, any traction is good traction and if you’re hating in my comments, you will be blocked <3 also you’re probably accomplishing nothing besides putting me on the algorithm :p

Oh my gods Evie stfu you’re yapping again ANYWAY HAVE SOME ART

Surprise!! I draw stuff other than Sonic XD

This is an old one, like, I think a year old maybe a year and a half at this point, so if it looks shitty that’s probably why. I am still pretty proud of it bc it took me absolutely forever to draw the background plus I really like the way her hair came out.

I can’t believe I never posted it here, but yeah, this is a little mini comic I made regarding Lucifer and my oc :)

(Click for better quality)

~Much love,

Evie

[m1xt4pe-m4ster]

halloween art if you will

[shittyjadesprite]

Jadesprite?

GG: y̵̼͠e̴̘̕a̷͙̓h̴̘̐?̴̗́

[GG: yeah?]

[thecharacterchronicler]

Please (Part 2) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: After your arranged marriage and wedding night with Ominis, you found yourselves alone in the Gaunt house for a few days.

Word count: 2’840

Warnings: Explicit smut, pregnancy (mentions).

(May contain a few mistakes as English isn’t my first language.)

(( Part 1 - Bloodline )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))

Ominis’ didn’t have much time after your engagement was announced to come up with a plan but he knew that the most important thing would be to keep you as far away as possible from his family after the wedding. He had thought about asking to settle with you in the Gaunts’ apartment in London or maybe in his family’s cottage by the beach but, as it turned out, it was his family that had decided to take their distances, probably because they wanted to facilitate the procreation of a heir.

His parents had left the manor for London only one day after your wedding, leaving you very little time to take the full measure of the Gaunt’s cruelty and darkness. As for Marvolo, he stayed elusive about where he was going to spend the next few days but what was important was that he was gone, far away from you.

With only you in the manor that he used to dread, Ominis slowly started thinking that it wasn’t so bad after all. The heavy atmosphere that usually weighted on his shoulders seemed a lot lighter now that you were around. Even his perpetual darkness had became somewhat lighter since you had been there with him, filling the house with piano melodies and laughters.

As per usual, he found you in the music room, your fingers practicing a tune that he knew by heart by now. He stood on the threshold for a moment, enjoying the melody and your presence. Even if he couldn’t see, the way the room radiated with warmth and light because you were in it made his heart swell.

For once in his life, Ominis was happy. Truly happy. Because you were there, shining a new light on everything he used to hate. Starting with that piano that his mother always forced him to play until his fingers hurt… Now everything he wanted was to sit next to you and play a duet along with you.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Your voice said, as you stopped playing.

“Don’t mind me, I was just enjoying the music.”

He heard the air that left your lips every time you smiled so he smiled back at you, waiting for you to resume your tune but you didn’t, nervously fidgeting with your music sheet instead.

Ominis felt a pinch in his chest. He felt it a lot lately. It usually happened whenever he wondered if you were happy too. Because he was, and his only wish was that you felt it too. If you weren’t, then it meant you were feeling as trapped in this marriage than what you would have been if Marvolo had been your husband instead. Of course, Ominis would treat you better. He was your friend after all, your best friend. But he still couldn’t help but wonder sometimes who you would have chose to marry if you had had the freedom to decide for yourself. Sebastian ? Garreth ? Amit ? Even if the idea of you with another man made him sick with jealousy, he wouldn’t blame you if that was what you wanted. He sincerely wished you could have avoided a lifetime trapped with a Gaunt, even if it was him.

“I have a present for you.” He said, since you didn’t seem to want to play the piano anymore. He walked in your direction, stopping precisely close to the bench you were sitting on. His hand disappeared in the pocket of his vest, retrieving a small black box from it.

“You shouldn’t have.” You started, but your breath caught in your throat when he opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold ring, with a stone as black as a starless night on it. You traced a finger on the symbols engraved on the gem, feeling a powerful energy buzzing from it.

“It’s a family heirloom.” Ominis explained, as you were about to ask. “With a pretty ancient coat of arms engraved on it. I’ve been told my ancestor got it made for the woman he loved… It always gave me hope that maybe, some Gaunts are capable of love after all.”

“It’s truly beautiful.”

“It’s yours.” He took the ring out of the box, outstretching a hand in your direction. You placed your hand in his and he slowly slided the jewel on your ring finger. It fitted you perfectly, as if it had been made for you.

“I’m honored, thank you.” He heard you stand up from your seat, feeling you suddenly very close to him. Then, your soft lips pressed a kiss on his cheek, sending a wave of adrenaline through his body. “We haven’t really talked since our wedding night… Maybe we should.”

“What would you like to talk about ?”

“Our… marital duties ?” You said, a blush creeping up to your cheeks.

“Ah. That.” Ominis breathed, equally turning crimson.

“Your mother told me that I must birth an heir by the end of the year… But I wanted to know what you want.” You explained, your tone nervous.

“I want this bloodline to die with me.” He said, with no hesitation. Then, he realized that maybe, it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “I apologize if you were hoping to have children but I do not wish to bring another Gaunt into the world.”

“I understand…” You said, softly, but he could tell something was bothering you. “I suppose I’m better off having no children than being forced by my husband to birth more babies than what my body could endure.”

Ominis took a deep breath. In other circumstances, maybe he would have wanted this. Especially with you. But he swore to himself a long time ago that he would never provide another child for his family to torture until they could turn him or her into a monster like them.

“If you wish to see Sebastian, or another man, I won’t stop you but I need you to be careful to not accidentally get pregnant.” He said it as stoically as he could, wanting to seem impassible so that you wouldn’t know how it consumed him with jealousy to imagine you with someone else. But he would survive it if it might make you happy.

“What ? You think I want to be with Sebastian ?” You asked him, incredulous. “Do you want to be with someone else ?”

“I don’t think so.” He replied. “I don’t really care for such things…”

“Oh. I see.” You said, and maybe he should have been clearer to avoid hearing such disappointment in your tone. He didn’t really care for such things because all he cared about was you. Since 5th year, the only person he ever imagined being intimate with was you. And if he couldn’t have you, then he wouldn’t have anyone else. “I’m sorry if last time was terrible, it was my first time. Maybe with some practice I could get better at it.”

“You… Want to practice ?” He repeated, unsure of what you meant.

“Yes ? Maybe you could tell me exactly what to do to please you.” You suggested, causing very inappropriate ideas to flash in his mind. You couldn’t be serious. “I’m eager to learn if you are willing to teach me.”

In the few days you had spent alone in the manor, after your wedding, you had talked to him as you always did, like a friend. Not once did it sound like you regretted what you had done on your wedding night but you also didn’t seem to plan on doing it again. You were back at being friends and, with his family away from the manor, Ominis had decided to respect this by sleeping in the living room instead of sharing a bed with you.

So hearing that you were, in fact, not opposed to consume your wedding again left him slightly dumbstruck for a moment. Were you doing this because his mother had instructed you to ? Because his parents - or yours - had threatened to hurt you if you didn’t produce an heir quickly ? Or could it be possible that you just wanted him ?

“Please, Ominis.” You begged, quietly. You stepped closer and planted a wet kiss in the crook of his neck, causing him to take a sharp inhale of air.

There you were, asking him again so nicely and politely for something that he was dying to give you. He knew by now that he didn’t have the willpower to ever refuse you anything at all, whatever you wanted, he would give you. No questioning, no hesitation, all you had to do was say please in that agonizingly desirable tone of yours and he would grant you everything you asked for.

His arms closed around your waist, pulling you against him into a feverish kiss. You left out a breath of relief against his lips, making him kiss you even harder in return. For the past few nights, he had laid awake on the couch, thinking about the curves and dips of your body, the way he had traced them and memorized them, forming the most detailed idea of what your body looked like in his mind, after all these years during which he barely dared touch you.

He put so much strength into his kisses that the pressure of his body against yours forced you to take a few steps back. He followed each one, until you could no longer retreat, your back pressed against the imposing piano behind you.

“Sit down.” He instructed you, but he left you no time to do it, lifting you up and sitting you on the keyboard, unpleasant notes played all together resounding in the room under your weight.

He fell to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching to your legs and slowly moving upwards, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in the process until it was all the way up to your hips. He tugged on your underwear and you moved to help him remove them, once again causing a few notes of music to fill the air between you.

“What should I do ?” You asked him, the uncertainty in your voice making him grin.

“Nothing at all.” He replied, leaning forward to bury his face between your thighs. You gasped as soon as you felt his tongue between your folds, tasting you in a way you didn’t think possible.

“But…” You started, but interrupted yourself to catch your breath, your head swimming from the pleasure his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit provoked inside your body. “I want to learn how to please you.”

“This is pleasing me.” He assured you, because it really did. He had always wondered what you tasted like, and what sounds would come out of your mouth if he licked you down there. He was indulging into one of his wildest fantasies about you and nothing could have pleased him more at that very moment.

“Ominis…” You breathed, wanting to argue but moaning instead. With his hands gripping each of your thighs to ensure they were as far apart as they could be to grant him access and his tongue unrelenting in the way it explored the walls of your pussy, you couldn’t help but give in, closing your eyes and pressing your back against the piano, biting your lip to silence another moan.

When he pushed his tongue passed your entrance, your hand fell by your side, pressing a few keys in the process which made you jump but didn’t seem to phase him the least, maybe because your thighs were muffling every sound in his ears, apart from your delicious cries of pleasure. You put your hand on his head, fingers messing up his neat hairstyle to pull him even closer, wanting him deeper. So much deeper.

“I need you.” You managed to tell him, even though your body was trembling in bliss. “Please.”

He groaned against your folds, eyes closed. He needed you too, his cock was swollen in his pants, wanting nothing more than to be freed and shoved inside you for relief.

Maybe if he was very careful…

His mouth left your core and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand as you kept panting, perched on the piano. He knew it must be a lovely sight to see, you flushed from the pleasure he had given you and your legs spread open for him, your folds coated in his saliva and your own deliciously sweet arousal.

He stood up, opening his pants to free the erection so desperate to be inside you again. He heard how you quietly gasped as he pulled his hard length out, shuddering with excitement. He leaned down to kiss you, wondering if you could taste yourself on his lips and, as you attempted to catch your breath, he flipped you over, bringing your feet back to the ground and your hands slamming the piano keys in a abrupt melody once again.

He had to pull your skirt up to your hips again, exposing your round ass to him. He traced the contour of that part of you he had yet to discover, his fingers digging in the tender flesh a few times as if wanting to take the full measure of what it looked like. And, once his curiosity satisfied and the feeling stored in his memory, he aligned his cock with your entrance and pushed it in, slowly.

He had expected to find a resistance there, as he had last time, but his cock gently slided all the way inside you without you making a single sound of pain or discomfort. He left out a breath, loving how warm and tight you felt around him. He enjoyed it all the more knowing that he was welcome there, your wetness making it easy for him to bury himself inside you all the way until his hips were squeezed against your ass.

You felt incredible.

So good in fact that he struggled to control himself, wanting to thrust in and out of you so hard until he could be satisfied but he was determined to be a gentleman. Instead of the rough shoves he craved, he rocked himself back and forth painfully slowly, earning some lovely sounding moans and whimpers out of you as a reward for behaving.

It felt as if you were getting tighter the more you were crying out in pleasure and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it much longer. He had came inside you last time, because it was your first time and he wanted to do things the traditional way. He took your virginity which you were willing to give him now that he was your husband. And he gave you his too, even though it felt a lot more insignificant in comparison. He had spilled his release inside you, to mark you as his, to forever be the first one to ever do it. But he wouldn’t do it again, the risk was too great to take.

He had to be cautious.

He pushed himself forward with more strength than what he had meant to use, making the piano sound again under your shifting weight. You bounced back against him, making him hit so deep inside that you loudly moaned, body tensing as violently as your pussy tightened around his cock, momentarily trapping him inside you and violently pulsating all around him, trying to get him to fill you up as he naturally should. And he almost did. It felt so good, way too good to resist…

He managed to pull out just in time for his release to splash out of him, warm drops landing on your ass and thighs. He breathed loudly, cock twitching in his hand as he emptied all of his pant up desire for you that he had fought against in the past few days. The quantity only rivaling the intensity of the pleasure he felt.

He didn’t notice you move, too busy enjoying his climax so he jumped slightly when he felt your lips around the tip of his still hard cock, your tongue licking the pink flesh with delight.

“Wh-What are you doing ?” He asked, breathing ragged. He had to lean forward and rest his hands on the piano to keep his balance, the sensitivity of his cock heightened after the strong orgasm he had.

“I wanted a taste too.” You admitted, licking each side of his shaft with care. He closed his eyes, a groan escaping from his lips as your tongue collected the salty wetness that coated his length.

He cursed and another load of his release filled your mouth, his body trembling and his head swimming in bliss. You sucked every drop out of him and swallowed it all, as he sat down on the piano chair with a dizzy expression on his face, struggling to catch his breath.

You allowed him a few minutes before you rose up from your knees to kiss him, gently pressing your hand against his racing heart. He kissed you back, tenderly, as his fingers caressed yours, contouring the new ring on your finger.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

Previously in this series;

Next in this series;

[reallyromealone]

Title: ducky

Fandom: hazbin hotel

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Warnings: reader is Jessica rabbit coded, make reader, sexual themes, reader hates Valentino, softcore nsfw, crack treated seriously, Lucifer is a simp, reader cross dresses, reader wears lipstick, the word daddy

Notes: the amount of rewrites boy howdy

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

After every show, (name) had gifts waiting from fans.

Flowers, expensive jewelry and other things were always there but one thing always stuck out to him, an adorable rubber duck dressed like him, wearing an adorable version of the show he did previously. Todays was his pink dress, the jazz singer loved cross dressing and it seemed his admirer noticed every detail of his outfits... It had him swooning! "Oh the note!" He said looking for the rose gold paper with black ink, another joke that was corny and wishing him a good day... Oh he was so wonderful!

It was the best part of his day, really it was.

Before this, his eternity was always so drab... Singing his songs and nothing of interest happening.

"It's time" one of his security guards said seriously and (name) nodded, placing the duck in his suit pocket before leaving with the men and out the back area of the club where the limo was waiting for him.

Not before catching eyes with the one person be despised and was sadly obsessed with him, Valentino smirked as he stepped out of the limo across the street as (name) got into his own faster, not wanting to deal with him especially after a performance. He couldn't stand that moth! The demon had been obsessed with (name) for years along with his little picture box friend, he remembered when they sent him molds of their erections! Disgusting!

(Name) Made sure his driver left faster, not wanting to deal with that man any more than he needed to.

"Your father requested your presence" the driver said to (name) who looked passive "what for?" He asked as a smile found its way in his face as the driver explained about some project the demon was partaking in and wanted (name)s help, the jazz demon excited to see what was taking all his father's time these days "then let's go see, shall we?"

(Name) Was not expecting some hotel on the edge of town "Hazbin hotel?" He mumbled curiously as he walked into the hotel, his driver going on his break and (name) wasn't expecting his father to be arguing with a small blond man "papa?" He asked with a passive Expression, where Alastor smiled (name) kept passive "(name)! There you are!" Alastor said dismissing the other immediately to walk to his son "how was your show little one?" He asked his son who let out a soft huff, amused "it was quite well, what's this shindig?" He gestured to the group of people and his dad grinned.

"I have someone for you to meet"

Everyone knew who (name) was, he was on every billboard across pentagram city and Angel dust knew how obsessed Vox and Valentino were with him, throwing tantrums whenever their wooing attempts went south.

But what they didn't know was that (name) was Alastors son.

"Wait son?! Sinners can't procreate?" Charlie asked curiously as Alastor laughed robotically "he was my son when I was alive, sadly I died when he was little--"'--and I was raised by grandma!" (Name) Continued and they were curious on how (name) was in hell but decided not to prod on that and now that they looked at them, they could see the resemblances.

Height being a main one, (name) just a bit shorter than his dad.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, now why am I here?" He asked his father curiously and the radio demon grinned wider "well you see, we need someone to notice this place and what better than the most popular jazz singer in this place!" Alastor said merrily and (name) raised an eyebrow but sighed "I will on a condition" Charlie was vibrating with excitement as she nodded "whatever you want!"

"I'm looking for someone, I don't know who they are but I have a few clues" (name) pulled out the notes and the duck from his pockets "this person botherin' ya?" Husk asked suspiciously and (name) shook his head "quite the opposite actually!" Charlie and Alastor looked at each other and then the rubber duck in realization as Lucifer looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Dad, is that your duck?" (Name) Drew his attention to the now panicking fallen angel who looked back at (name) stressed out "I think we should talk" (name) said to the blond man who followed nervously, the two going off somewhere as everyone processed what just happened.

"I can expla--" (name) stopped him with a kiss, gently holding Lucifer's face and his thumbs stroking his cheekbones before pulling back "I uh, I don't understand?" Lucifer said dumbly and (name) grinned "I never got a chance to tell you how my day was, awful rude doll~" he whispered to Lucifer and smiled at the smudged red lipstick from his performance on Lucifer's lips "s-so does this mean...?"

"Oh darling, I'm not gonna let you go... But I gotta ask, what's your name? Or should I just call you ducky?" (Name) Teased the other who looked incredibly flustered "maybe baby? Or daddy?" He teased and Lucifer was deeply confused at how this walking sex symbol was related to fucking Alastor but the kiss he was being pulled back into made him forget it all.

"They have been there awfully long" Charlie fretted and Angel dust snorted "he's related to smiles over there, god knows what's happening"

"I'm gonna check on them" she said nervously and Alastor followed, fatherly instincts kicking in as they went to the room the two wandered off too, hearing gasps and grunts and the sound of something knocking over. In a panic Charlie opened the door and Angel dust couldn't hold his laughter at Alastor and Charlie's horrified faces at the scene before them.

(Name) On-top of Lucifer with his suit half off his body and Lucifer was no better with an exposed chest and unbuttoned pants connected to (names) full lack of pants, Lucifer sporting Hickey's and red lipstick all over his body.

"DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM?!" Lucifer was exasperated as the two quickly put themselves together and Charlie was traumatized at the fact she saw her dad... Like that.

[madschiavelique]

Viktor did lose his student ID in his bag, so when checking into the doors he had to go through all his bags, it was the last bag and the most full, so he ends up unpacking in a hallway just to see the card was in the side pocket.

(If you want what do the IDs look like?)

OKAY i’m sorry this took a bit for me to answer bc i had to lock in an open procreate

i am so sure he did that, plus i think that he’d hate whenever anyone asks to see his student card because the picture of him makes him look like a zombie (he had forgotten he had to get his pics taken and pulled an all nighter before getting in front of the camera)

here’s a sort of prototype for a piltover card template ! front and back

[all-together-now]

A single piece of mail is in Lash's mailbox. Dear Lash. Your first mistake was to crawl out of your bed this morning and grace our wonderful world with your presence. Your second mistake was to look in your mailbox without being too wasted to even think. I could start off with your abhorrent stench you carry with you all around; I could dump a sewage system over you and you would only smell better. I could start off with your homeless appearance; We've all started to ignore the brown line oozing through your pants, remnants from all the times you've failed to reach the toilet in the morning. And I could even list how you've brought nothing to this world: ever since your genetic misfire of a birth the only thing you've done is taken valuable oxygen But that last part technically isn't true. You've somehow fathered a brilliant and joyous soul, who is living at the prime of her life with those she considers family. I know what you are. My father was a little bit like you. Born with either improper parenting or just plain malice in your heart, you one day woke up at night knowing that you were inadequate at this stage of your life. Desperate to not feel as low as you actually were, you both began to pickle your brain with whatever cheap booze that your pocket lint could afford, and search for a woman to make as miserable as you. By act of Gaia, you found a woman who was dumb enough to allow you to escape your nature as a genetic dead end, and you soon managed to procreate with her. However, you soon managed to drive off that fat skank of a wife and you were only left alone with your infant daughter and your crippling doubts. Every time your toddler had a moment of childlike joy, or a moment where they enjoyed the world, you did your damnedest to ensure that it would be ruined and tainted. After all, Misery loves company. As soon as Tangle came out of the closet to you, you kicked her out. Initially, I simply thought this was just because you were a sexist prick, but upon further analysis She's not likely to sire any grandchildren that you can inflict your hate-filled booze-fueled campaigns of sorrow upon. So now we come to the present day. Tangle has grown and matured despite your best attempts to create a miniature copy of yourself. She's found herself a core member of a brave group of freedom fighters, and she's even on name to name basis with Sonic the Hedgehog! In a single day, Tangle does more for the world then you will ever hope to achieve in your miserable husk of a life. Meanwhile, you're left in Spiral Hill; a backwash, pants-shitting stain who we all dread to see slither out of the miserable tomb that is your house. P.S. I know what you're going to do after reading this. You're going to walk back inside that miserable den and open another bottle, trying to see if you'll drown in liquor or your own excrement.

The lemur didn't even get halfway through the letter before ripping it up and tossing the pieces into the street.

"Fuckin' pricks sending me junkmail..." he muttered, walking back to his house.

[generalwprayman]

oh yeah, also Pete if he was stupid and in Rayman 1

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

King of Your Heart

Chapter 8 "No more Frankie"

summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.

inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is lowkey toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, self-hate (both characters), drug usage (coke), drinking, benny's house party, princess and fish love to argue, FRANKIE IS GETTING CUCKED, light smut, angst, oh yeah and a lot of angst, biting, no y/n, pet names, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt

AN: i was inspired by recent life events and these two songs: you don't go to parties by 5SOS wish you were sober by Conan Gray alone by halsey

inside the world of king of your heart

playlist

series mainlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hiroikegawa

'I'm sorry too but Frankie we can't be together if you don't trust me,'

You left Frankie when he fell asleep after going back to his bedroom for another round of sex. The drive home was silent, with no music playing beside your crying. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You and Frankie were supposed to get married, have babies, and grow old together. You could see yourself having children with him. You never wanted kids until you fell in love with Frankie, your mother was right when she said to you about how you didn't ever want children. 

'When you meet the right person you'll want to have kids with them, it's not about procreating it's about expressing your love for each other. To have the best pieces of each other made into another human.'

You unlocked the apartment and saw Frankie's aero science book sitting on the coffee table. You glared at the book mocking your relationship, you were completely wiped out of Frankie's house but he is still set up at your apartment. You grabbed the book, shoved it into the junk drawer, and then slammed it back into place. 

Your gaze was wandering all over the apartment trying to find anything that was tied to Frankie. His holster, his pocket knife, and a hat that he wore once and shoved into the junk drawer too. Your anger was clouding your mind, time to move on, no more Frankie. 

Your body is tired and aching for rest but you comb through the entire apartment, going through the closet in the hallway for anything Frankie might own, going through the bathroom, the cabinets, and your closet.

There was a pile in the living room of anything Frankie left or gave to you which meant you didn't have a toolbox anymore. Sunlight creeps in and you are sweating from running around like a madman. 

You get an empty cardboard box from moving in and putting the pile of Frankie memorabilia. 

It was difficult readjusting back to a life without Frankie, without having someone to text first thing when you wake up in the morning. You just get ready for work and come home to eat takeout and watch old romance movies with a bottle of wine that changes day to day depending on how you feel after work. 

When poker night comes around, you grudgingly get dressed and went to Will's house hoping just to talk with his fiancee Charlotte. No Frankie that night or the next poker night, everyone was doleful when you wouldn't show up and Frankie did, and vice versa. Ben decided it was time for you and Frankie to face each other but maybe not in an intimate setting.

Benny's end-of-summer house party. He told you it was the pre-game before his infamous Halloween bash. You haven't been to a party since Halloween and well Ben had thrown quite a few of these house parties. You always hear about the next day when you go over to make sure the guys are alive, making them breakfast and getting them to clean up the house while you supervise. 

But here you were 3 months clean from Frankie and you were in a dress that Frankie just loves so much, a white cami top dress with pink roses decorating the center of the neckline, and the hem stopping a little bit short of the mid-thigh.

Why were you wearing this? Maybe to make Frankie wish he had tried harder with you.

Maybe to get some dick tonight whether from Frankie or some friend of Benny's. Maybe Frankie won't be there and you wore the dress for yourself. 

"Princess is here!" Pope yells with a beer in his hand almost having it spill out on your shoes. Your eyes dart around the room, seeing people you barely know and a lot of people you don't even know. Ben was coming right at you with a tray of shots. 

"You have to take these before you're allowed to make a drink," Ben hands you the first one of 4 shots. You throw them back inviting the burning in your throat, it was nice to feel a different kind of pain other than emotional.

You start to warm up while you walk into the kitchen and pull out your vodka that Benny hid away for you. The tartness of the cranberry juice and alcohol hit your tongue and downed the drink, a split second later you are mixing another drink.

The sliding door was opened and people going in and out, you looked around to see Mari making rounds with talking to everyone, the backyard caught your attention when you see Frankie talking to Charolette's maid of honor who was making herself comfortable on his lap. 

You roll your eyes grab the bottle of vodka and start drinking it straight. You were feeling the buzz and take a walk out of the crowd, there was your poison, Daniel from that terrible blind date. Might as take him up on his offer about having a big cock and knowing how to make a girl cum. 

"Well look who it is, Miss Princess," Daniel smirks from the couch and you sit down on his lap, you swing your legs over his thighs and play with the button on his collared shirt. 

"Hi Daniel, I've been thinking about showing how much fun I really am." You lean down to his ear and look out the window watching Frankie walking to the house. You dip into Daniel's neck and lightly graze his skin with your teeth. Then come back up, watching Frankie to the hallway, going into the first room on the left, the guestroom with an ensuite bathroom. 

You stand from the couch and hold your hand to Daniel, he quickly takes your hand. It was blind leading the blind, stumbling your way to the guestroom. You quickly slam the door, seeing the light of the bathroom on. Daniel was opening a tiny baggie with a white powder. He scoops some with a key and snorts it. 

Of course, the finance bro has a coke problem. 

"Want some?" Daniel scoops again and offers, you laugh and bring your nose to the key, sniffing the coke and burning your nostrils. You throw back your head and scrunch your nose, and he starts touching your body, extra sensitive to every motion.

Frankie shuts the sink off when he hears giggling and the door slamming. Moans fill the room, the hair on the back of his neck. He knows those moans, Frankie slowly opens the door just enough to see you riding the bastard Daniel, you were in reverse cowboy, playing with your tits and you looked Frankie right in the eyes. 

"So hot, princess!" Daniel pants, watching you bounce on his dick. Frankie gripped the door knob tighter almost ripping it from the door. 

Of course, this is how you want to be. Your hand slides down to your clit and draws tight little circles around it. 

"F-Fuck yes! Oh, you're so good!" You performed for the sake of Daniel's ego and for Frankie to see you getting pleasure from someone else.

You quickly succumb to your orgasm as Frankie gives you a glaring stare.

"Cum in me, baby," You continued to slamming yourself back down on Daniel's decent cock, nothing to be too fucked out of.

Frankie closes the door, quickly and quietly when Daniel spills his cum inside of you. He gets up and leaves to get another drink. You walk to the bathroom door and slip inside. Preparing you to face Frankie but there was the window above the tub opened and scuff marks from his boots on the tub. 

Frankie crawled out the window and tried to make his sudden appearance seem normal. His heart racing after watching you fuck another guy and came because Frankie just watching it happen. The image of your beautiful body on display made him hard even if you were having sex with someone else. 

You stumble out to the living room and see Daniel talking to a girl who is just equally as trashed as him. You find the vodka and make another drink before going to the backyard.

There were all the guys standing in a huddle, Pope saw you first and nudged Will and they broke apart and greeted you. Frankie stands there with hands in his pockets. Will apparently was being called over to his fiancee and Pope and Benny needed more to drink with cups still full.

Frankie breathes out and looks at your pupil's blown and glazed eyes. He never thought you would become this. He feels responsible for your destructive way of coping. 

"If you wanted to make me jealous, you could've just kissed the fucker not have sex with him." Frankie finally admitted his jealousy for anyone who even looked at you and is now jealous of Daniel for getting to have you the same way you had Frankie. 

"Frankie-"

 "I don't care that you fucked him. I care more about the fact that you did coke. Something you know that I've had past with." He was right. How could you do that? You know about the last time Frankie had his coke problem? What kind of friend does that?

Are you even still friends?

[zito-the-deino]

About me

I am a major fan of all things Pokémon. I’ve read the manga up to the B&W arc, and have enjoyed almost every Pokémon game I’ve played but don’t really watch the anime. Legends Arceus is my favorite and Let’s go Eevee is my least. I am an artist who is entirely self taught and use procreate. Cyrus is my favorite villain character and I want to get better at most everything. I am a fanfiction author and aim to one day publish my own novel. Storytelling is of course one of my favorite things, and Deino my favorite Pokémon(love that little dumbass).

I will not be sharing anything like my age, gender or location as I prefer to be a faceless anonymous creator. Please consider this blog a place to just escape from reality, I won’t post/reblog anything political. I am always welcome to interactions. Keep this blog positive please. Specific posts under the cut.

DNI if you:

Ship incest/beastiality/anything with children or are homophobic, transphobic or otherwise needlessly hateful.

Other accounts

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Cosmicstars08

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zito_the_deino

Pokemon AUs

Lapidary (Big project!) - Name change pending!

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/782282422912942080/guess-whose-creating-another-fucking-pok%C3%A9mon

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/783095917815480320/working-more-on-the-lapidary-au-got-a-world

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/783168425262563328/lapidary-au-update-so-first-thing-more-of-the

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/783263338362748928/working-more-on-the-lapidary-au-of-the-four

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/783364466426462208/for-the-lapidary-au-is-one-of-maxie-and-archie

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/783365086757666816/im-cutting-the-entire-first-episode-for-suspense

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/783636031697223680/list-of-preexisting-characters-who-will-get

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/785073226173890560/ive-counted-the-main-cast-of-the-pok%C3%A9mon

Fallacy of pride

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/779472192416186368/fallacy-of-pride-cyrus

Sea monster Maxie

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/782652515245342720/playing-more-with-sea-monster-maxie-he-can

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/782657161697394688/example-of-the-magma-idiot-beaching-himself

- https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/782595078383452160/this-might-be-the-sleep-deprivation-talking

Writings - Multiple chapters

A debt to be paid Emmet x Ghetsis - unfinished

- Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1485489870-a-debt-to-be-paid-1

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60073018/chapters/153279574

Reborn as Ghetsis - unfinished

- Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/365928012-reborn-as-ghetsis

- Ao3: N/A

Always think twice - Unfinished

- Wattpad: Always think twice - Cosmicstars08 - Wattpad

- Ao3: Always think twice - Chapter 1 - Zito_the_deino - Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Hoennian in Hisui - Unfinished

- Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/393466983?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=Cosmicstars08

-Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65024440

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65024440

Guess I was reborn as Yveltal - Unfinished

- Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/392154077?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=Cosmicstars08

- Ao3: N/A

How high we stand Cyrus x Aura Guardian! Reader - Unfinished

- Wattpad: N/A

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63744016/chapters/163427692

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63744016/chapters/163427692

Writings - Oneshots

The cafe he agreed to meet in

- Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1457232890-the-cafe-he-agreed-to-meet-in

- Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/zito-the-deino/765341964645318656/the-cafe-he-agreed-to-meet-in?source=share

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57410770

A Familiar new Ally

- Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/385961188?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=Cosmicstars08

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63953755

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63953755

[bastardzombie2]

totally hate grian [cc i love drawing the most] [WINGS!]

name: u can call me bz or anything else you come up with but it has to be cooler then mine

age: ⛏️

prn: any he/they pref

fandoms: life series, trying to get to hermitcraft [so long!!!], mcyt

program: procreate pocket -if you have any recs pls let me know im thinking of trying some other programs out

brushes: derwent, tinderbox, flat brush, 6b pencil, round, inka, or any brush in general with hard pressure and a lot of texture to make finger drawing easier

major refs: referenceangle, poseart3d, [will provide link if needed]

always have ideas in my head but happy to do requests

RULEBOOK!: -dont sexualize any of my drawings -dont not credit me -

DNI if you support: dteam, wilbur, or anyone in general whos canceled or a shitty person, nsfw accounts, [more to be added]

[mjonthetrack]

still you: the legacy of emmad

Chapter 77 – Find Her

The campaign center was no longer humming with energy.

It was buzzing—static-charged, silent panic. Daisy was gone, and not even Nyla could cover it with a smile.

Elijah stood still, phone in hand, reading through the vile segment that had gone viral. Every word felt like a fist. Nyla leaned over his shoulder, jaw slack as the hosts cracked jokes about welfare and procreation—about Daisy’s pregnancy, her Blackness, her family. Her humanity.

“This is what she saw?” Nyla whispered, stunned. “They said this about her?”

Elijah didn’t answer. Reggie, across the room, had gone completely still. Ramona had her fists clenched so tight they trembled on her knees. The Reverend stepped toward the monitor, hit mute, and then power.

Kaiyon’s voice cracked through the silence. “She saw that alone?”

Nyla’s voice caught, “She walked out before we even saw it.”

“Damion hasn’t seen it either,” Elijah added, “he just ran. Said she wasn’t answering, and she never does that.”

Then Damion’s phone pinged.

He slowed in his run, pulling it from his chest pocket. A location.

Just a dot. No words.

But he didn’t need them. He broke into a full sprint.

—

Daisy stared at the wedge on her tray like it might offer answers.

Her fingers moved slowly, dragging it through ketchup, but never lifting it to her lips. The Frosty sat half-melted, the sandwich cold. Her hoodie was tugged low over her eyes, sunglasses shielding her from everything—even the old woman two booths down who had quietly whispered, “That’s her. That’s that lady on the news.”

Still, no one approached.

She didn’t even notice the Wendy’s employee from earlier watching her from the counter, phone in hand, ready to call someone if needed.

She just stared.

One hand on her belly.

The other resting flat on the table.

Her phone buzzed once: a notification that her location was shared.

Then a second buzz—this time from Damion.

She didn’t open the message. But she left the dot there. She knew he’d come.

—

He arrived breathless.

The door flung open so hard the chime nearly fell off. Several customers turned toward the tall, broad-shouldered man in campaign gear with fire in his eyes and panic in his chest.

Then he saw her.

The booth. The hoodie. Her chin low and her fingers idle around a lone potato wedge.

“Daisy,” he exhaled, a mix of relief and hurt.

She looked up slowly. Her glasses slid slightly down her nose. And there it was—that brave, tired, beautiful face. But the light in her eyes was dimmed.

He stepped toward her slowly, like if he moved too fast she might disappear.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want you to see it,” she said softly. “I didn’t want you to carry it too.”

“I carry you, Daisy,” he said, lowering into the booth across from her. “There’s nothing you feel that I’m not meant to hold with you.”

She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard.

“I just needed to… not be the movement for a minute. Not be Mama D, not be First Madame anything. Just… be.”

He reached across the table, curling his hand around hers. His thumb rubbed slow circles into her wrist.

“You can always be. You don’t have to earn rest. You don’t have to armor up every second. Especially not with me.”

Her lip trembled.

“I hate that they laughed. That they… that they don’t see how hard we’ve worked. That they look at us and see nothing but stereotype.”

“I haven’t seen it,” Damion admitted quietly. “I didn’t have to. I saw your face when I walked in. That told me all I needed to know.”

For a long moment, they just sat there.

Then, slowly, he slid into her side of the booth. She leaned into him, head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her bonnet. “Always.”

Outside, the cameras were still waiting, the streets still churning, the fight still raging.

But in this Wendy’s booth, Daisy Emmad—the heartbeat of a revolution—was held.

And safe.

And loved.

Chapter 78 – Fire in His Chest

Damion didn’t say a word as they left the Wendy’s.

He simply stood, arms already beneath her thighs and around her back, lifting her effortlessly. Daisy let out a soft breath and curled instinctively into him, tucking her face into the space between his jaw and shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck.

The hoodie’s edge fell low. He gently tugged it lower.

Anyone watching wouldn’t see her. Not her swollen eyes, not the exhaustion in her bones. All they saw was him—Damion Emmad, walking with intent, carrying his wife like something sacred. Which she was.

The driver opened the SUV door before Damion reached it, face tight with unspoken worry.

“Back to the buses,” Damion said flatly. Not a question.

The man nodded, wordless.

Inside the SUV, Damion held her tighter, his hand protectively cradling her belly.

Her whisper broke the silence: “Don’t make a scene.”

He kissed her temple, his voice steady, “Too late for that.”

—

When the SUV rolled to a stop near the campaign fleet, the cabinet was waiting.

Reggie, Elijah, Nyla, Ramona, Dr. Nasir, Kaiyon, the Reverend, and the rest—every one of them standing near the steps of the main bus with hard faces and protective eyes.

As soon as the door opened, they all stilled.

Damion stepped out slowly, still holding Daisy tight, her hoodie low, her face hidden.

She didn’t lift her head.

Her voice barely reached them: “I’m just gonna go to bed. I’m not hungry.”

She slid gently out of his arms and moved quickly up the steps of the tour bus, not looking at anyone. Just a blur of movement, silence, and sadness.

The door closed behind her.

A long, heavy moment passed.

Then Nyla swallowed hard. “You need to see it.”

Damion turned his head. His face was thunderclouds.

“No,” he growled low. “You don’t want me to see it.”

But Elijah was already turning the screen on. Ramona handed him the tablet.

The volume was off. The captions were enough.

There it was: the Fox News segment. A still image of him and Daisy onstage in Charlotte, hands over her stomach. Headlines like: "More Like Government Handout: Emmad Family Expands," and, “From Welfare to White House?”

Damion’s eyes were locked, jaw tight. Muscles in his neck jumped.

Then came the clips.

“…what this country needs is another welfare recipient…”

“…don’t need to procreate—country’s bad enough without this little rag tag group of them kind…”

“…hope it doesn’t go to term. The baby or the presidency.”

The laughter on screen.

Damion didn’t blink.

His entire body radiated quiet fury. The air shifted. Even Kaiyon’s usual commentary fell silent.

Reggie stepped close. “We need to plan response—”

“No,” Damion said, cutting him off, his voice cold steel. “I’ll respond.”

He looked toward the tour bus, the one holding Daisy and Sekou.

“She won’t cry herself to sleep alone while the world tears her down. Not again. Not while I’m breathing.”

Kaiyon stepped forward, his tone gentle but serious, “Then you better breathe, big daddy, ‘cause we’re riding with you.”

Everyone else nodded.

But Damion didn’t answer.

His hands were already fists.

His eyes already on fire.

He had a wife to protect.

And a country to confront.

Chapter 79 – A Reckoning in Real Time

The press corps didn’t see it coming.

They were set up on folding risers across from the community center in Columbia, South Carolina—expecting a softer day on the Emmad/Walker tour. A panel with educators. A drop-in with local organizers. Maybe a heartwarming clip or two of Damion with kids, some soundbites from Elijah with his crisp charm.

What they got was fire.

The cameras were already rolling when Damion Emmad stepped outside the center’s double doors flanked by his full cabinet.

His stride was slow but seething. A black suit over a charcoal tee, no tie. His gold Omega ring glinting under the sun. Elijah was at his side, face unreadable but present. Revered Deacon, Nyla, Dr. Nasir, Ramona Creed, Kaiyon—all of them deadly serious. This wasn’t a routine stop.

This was a declaration.

Without a podium, without a formal backdrop, Damion stopped in the center of the courtyard where mics had been staged and turned to the sea of cameras.

His voice, when it came, was even—but not calm.

“I wasn’t going to say anything today,” he began, eyes sweeping over the lenses. “I was going to let love win in silence. Let dignity rise above ignorance. But see, my wife is on a bus right now… because yesterday, a group of white men on national television laughed about our unborn child.”

The silence from the reporters was palpable.

Damion’s tone didn’t raise. It didn’t need to.

“They said we were ‘welfare.’ That we were ‘ragtag.’ That we shouldn’t ‘procreate.’ They said they hoped our baby—our presidency—didn’t go to term.”

Behind him, Ramona’s jaw was locked. Nyla stared straight ahead. Even Kaiyon had his head tilted, eyes full of smoke.

Damion stepped closer to the front.

“So I need to say this—for clarity. For our supporters. For the people watching us like their breath depends on it: We are not asking permission. We are not here for approval. We are not a circus act you get to heckle from bleachers of privilege. We are a movement.”

He glanced down, drew a breath, then looked back up.

“I married the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met. She’s your next First Lady. She’s a legal mind this country should be studying. She’s mother to our son. And right now, she’s carrying our future. I will burn the entire idea of this campaign to the ground before I let any of you disrespect her again.”

The press was dead still.

“And to the men on Fox News? Keep laughing. You just made the Emmad Family a household name in every living room that’s ever been counted out.”

He looked directly into one camera. “This baby—my baby—is already loved more than most presidents ever were.”

Then he stepped back.

And every single member of the cabinet stepped forward beside him.

Ramona. Nasir. Kaiyon. Reggie. Elijah. Nyla. The Reverend.

They said nothing.

They didn’t have to.

The image was enough.

One Black family. Fifteen cabinet members. United.

Camera shutters went off like machine gun fire.

Later that evening, social media melted under the weight of it.

#NotYourWelfare trended for twelve hours straight.

TikTok flooded with clips of Damion’s speech cut between shots of Daisy feeding people at the Greensboro center and Sekou clapping happily on the campaign bus.

Celebrities reposted. Activists mobilized. Even Beyoncé reposted the clip with the caption: “Say that, Mr. President.”

Inside the tour bus, Daisy sat on the edge of the bed, Sekou nestled beside her, watching the stream in tears.

And when Damion finally stepped back into the bus, sweat on his brow, jaw still tight—she didn’t say anything.

She just stood and walked straight into his arms.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, voice cracking as he held her and their son.

“No, baby,” she murmured back, eyes full. “We are.”

Chapter 80 – Protection Mode Activated

The next morning was heavy with Southern mist and silence.

The bus idled in a private lot off the back entrance of their hotel in Montgomery, Alabama, windows tinted, curtains drawn. Inside, the light was dim, golden with the slow rise of morning sun. The others hadn’t stirred yet—except one man.

Damion Rashaad Emmad.

He moved around the suite with purpose and quiet heat, dressed already in dark slacks and a fitted black henley rolled up at the sleeves. His beard trimmed tight, his eyes alert, but underneath it all… the storm was still there. Tamped down for now. But present.

Daisy stirred slowly in bed, the oversize comforter cocooned around her small frame. Sekou was still fast asleep between her and the wall, his little body clutching a toy reverend Deacon had gifted him at a gas station days before. She blinked up at Damion through her lashes.

"You up already?" she mumbled, her voice gravel-soft.

Damion crossed the room and leaned down slowly, brushing a kiss against her temple, his hand automatically moving to her belly with reverence and weight.

"You know I don’t sleep deep after a day like yesterday," he murmured. His voice was a mix of calm and gravel, like thunder behind velvet.

She exhaled, her eyes closing again.

He stood, glancing down at his family. His jaw flexed once. Then he picked up his comms device, flicking it open. “Reggie. You up?”

Reggie’s voice crackled back, already alert. “Yeah. You want it locked down?”

“Everything,” Damion said lowly. “Double security on her suite. Nobody comes in or out without a clearance nod from me. I want eyes on every door of this hotel and the venue. Nobody gets too close. No surprises today.”

There was a pause.

“You good, D?”

Damion looked down at Daisy’s peaceful face, then at Sekou’s little fists tucked under his chin. His throat tightened, but his voice stayed steady.

“I am now.”

—

When the rest of the team assembled in the hotel’s private conference suite, the tone had shifted. Subtle, but deeply felt. They were still vibrant, still laughing, still Black joy embodied—but there was a new alertness now. A new code being honored.

Daisy walked in late, sunglasses on, hair in soft braids, her entire vibe a mix of “don’t try me” and “I’m still the baddest.” She wore one of Damion’s campaign hoodies, baggy over leggings, her belly not quite showing but her aura radiating maternal might. She was flanked by Ramona and Nyla on either side—both of whom had stayed close all morning.

The minute she entered the room, Damion stood up from his seat.

Like instinct.

Like gravity.

She paused, caught off-guard. He walked to her, kissed her cheek, hand gently finding her lower back to steady her, guiding her to his seat instead of her own.

“You sit here,” he said softly. “This one’s closest to the wall, safest sightlines.”

She blinked at him, touched, confused, but followed his lead.

Around them, eyes quietly met across the table.

Nyla arched a brow. “Okay, Secret Service husband mode. We see you.”

Reggie chuckled. “You might as well put an earpiece on and start patrolling the perimeter, my guy.”

“Already did,” Damion muttered.

Daisy smiled faintly, but her voice was low as she leaned toward him. “You good, baby?”

“I will be,” he said, “when I know you are.”

The moment hung heavy but sweet between them, and then Elijah cleared his throat, grinning from where he sat with a tray of grits and catfish.

“Well damn. If this is what presidential protection looks like, I might start fakin’ pregnancy symptoms.”

Laughter broke the tension, and the day rolled on.

But everywhere they went that day—whether it was the convention center walk-through, the barber shop drop-in, or the small church where Daisy whispered blessings into a group of little girls' ears—Damion was never more than two steps away from her.

His hand was on her back when the crowds got too loud.

His body was between her and a flash when one got too close.

And when they got back on the bus that night, Daisy leaned against him, quiet in his arms.

“I know what they said still has you hot,” she said gently, her fingers tracing the hem of his shirt.

“It’s not just that,” he replied, his voice low in her curls. “It’s knowing that I can’t stop everything. I can’t filter the hate. But I can make sure you never stand in front of it alone.”

She looked up at him, and the world softened in her gaze. “Then we’ll do it together, like always. You block the punches. I’ll throw the law back.”

He smiled at that—finally, truly—and leaned down to kiss her fully, reverently.

And in the shadows of that tour bus, the Emmad family fortified itself.

Tomorrow, they would face more press. More pressure. More eyes. But tonight?

He would hold them close.

And nothing—not media, not ignorance, not fear—was going to pull them from his arms.

Chapter 81 – “Say It With Your Chest”

The campaign team had scattered across Birmingham for the day’s grassroots efforts—Damion, Elijah, Reggie, and Dr. Nasir were at a barbershop roundtable for men’s health and fatherhood initiatives. The rest of the cabinet was deployed across schools, churches, and union halls.

But every phone began buzzing at once.

Inside the barbershop, the quiet hum of clippers came to a halt as Elijah’s phone lit up. The notification read: “DAISY EMMAD ON LIVE FOX NEWS – FULL TAKEOVER.”

Reggie clicked the stream, his brows shooting up. “Yo, yo, yo—cut the clippers. Turn this up. This woman’s on air right now. LIVE.”

Dr. Nasir looked over his glasses. “Daisy on Fox? With who?”

The screen flickered to life and showed her sitting calmly on the Fox News panel, flanked by Nyla and Ramona like an iron triangle. Every eye in the barbershop locked in.

The host stammered into introductions but was clearly shaken. “Joining us is Mrs. Daisy René Emmad, campaign wife and attorney, along with Ramona Creed and Nyla Carter—”

“I’m here because I saw what was said,” Daisy said smoothly, her voice crisp and composed. “And I thought it was time we changed the tone.”

Clips of the previous hate-filled segment rolled: “...another welfare recipient…people like that shouldn’t procreate…let’s hope it doesn’t go to term...”

When the clip ended, Daisy stared directly into the camera. “I’m not here to beg for respect. I know who I am. I’m a wife, a mother, a lawyer, a founder, and a woman carrying legacy in my womb. And no matter what you say, none of it changes the fact that we are winning.”

Nyla flicked her wrist, flipping up charts on the studio monitor. “Let’s talk numbers, since y’all love statistics when they’re fake. These are verified by both left and right analysts.”

Ramona folded her hands. “I’ve watched you vilify us for decades. You called my generation radicals. Now you call hers welfare queens. All we’ve done is feed, raise, and protect our communities while you ridicule our wombs and steal our votes.”

The air was tight. That’s when Daisy turned to the panelists—the three white male commentators seated smugly just an hour earlier when she was merely a viral joke.

The tallest leaned forward, extending his hand awkwardly. “Mrs. Emmad, I didn’t mean—let’s be civil—”

Daisy didn’t move. “You know, Chris—”

“My name’s Steve.”

“Right. Dick. My apologies.”

The man twitched. Nyla and Ramona exchanged looks behind her.

Daisy tapped a manicured nail on the desk. “I was so glad to hear you had so much concern for welfare programs in this country.”

She nodded to the screen behind her. A graph flashed.

“You see, Dick, the largest recipients of welfare in this country are white Americans. Statistically. Empirically. And I think you should know something about that.”

He leaned back, wary. “What are you implying—”

“I’m saying your listening comprehension is a lacking stat on your side of the political spectrum.”

Ramona chuckled under her breath. Nyla tilted her head, amused.

Daisy’s eyes gleamed as she continued. “You know quite a bit about welfare, seeing as three of your abandoned children eat from that same government funding because their daddy is too busy sleeping with secretaries to take care of his responsibilities when he doesn’t wrap up.”

“Excuse me?” Steve barked, his face turning red.

She ignored him and turned to the second man. “Honestly, David, I’m surprised you even know what a statistic is. Especially since you barely scraped a GED while throwing out racial profiling like it's your sport of choice.”

David blinked like he’d been slapped.

Then she landed on the third. “And you, Neil. You might want to focus less on my uterus and more on the seventeen sexual harassment cases still pending against you. You want to talk about the morality of families? Start with yours.”

All three men fell silent.

Daisy smiled sweetly. “I didn’t come here to cuss you out. I came because I knew if I didn’t, y’all would call me a bitter Black woman. That’s your go-to. But what I am—what I always will be—is a damn good attorney.”

She pulled out three black folders and slid them across the desk to each man.

“These are copies of the legal complaints filed this morning for hate crimes, conspiracy to incite public harm, and public defamation. You’ll also find a personal lawsuit from me under violation of civil rights as a pregnant woman.”

Ramona crossed her legs slowly. “Court dates incoming, gentlemen.”

Nyla raised an eyebrow. “If your lawyers are good, you might still have houses by Christmas.”

Daisy stood, smoothing her blouse as she looked into the camera one last time. “Before I was his wife, before I was a mother—I was the weapon. And I will be bleeding your white pockets dry in court. So, gentlemen, have the day you deserve.”

With that, the three women exited the set—heels clicking like gunfire on the marble floor.

—

Back in the barbershop, every man was frozen in front of the screen. Phones buzzed around the country. Hashtags exploded in real time:

#DaisySnaps #BlackLegalRoyalty #BitterWhere #QueenWithTheReceipts #EmmadWomenDon’tMiss

Reggie blinked. “Yo... she just filed paperwork on live TV. Did y’all see the way she didn’t even raise her voice?”

Damion stood still, hand tightening around his phone, jaw clenched not with anger—but pride.

“That's my wife,” he said low.

Elijah whistled. “Remind me never to say anything slick to Daisy. Or Nyla. Or Ramona.”

Nasir smirked. “Remind me to always have them on my side in court.”

The shop erupted in laughter, but Damion was already texting Daisy.

[You alright, baby?] [Or do I need to clear out some network execs tonight?]

She texted back almost instantly.

[Baby, I’m good.] [They just learned what ‘liberation’ looks like.]

[kingcunny]

reply @aaronized

wellll okayyyyy…… 👉👈 if you insist……

used one of my fave picrews and screenshots from my ocs pintrest boards so you can get basic appearance + vibes…..

adrian and blair (200X) they share a pintrest board. adrian was molested by family member as a child and never told anyone about it. has an undiagnosed chronic illness. turns to drugs and alcohol to cope. turns around and molests his younger sibling all throughout her childhood. blair eventually comes out to adrian as a trans woman. doesnt come out to their father. names herself after the blair witch. shes bullied all throughout school. anytime she tries to go adrian for help hes strung out. one day dad comes home early and finds adrians jacket thrown over the couch. picks it up and a little baggie of powder falls out of his pocket. dad goes to confront adrian and finds him and (blair) in bed together. tells them to get their shit and get out of his house. while homeless adrian gets very withdrawal sick and forces blair into sex work to provide for them but more importantly his drugs. even after getting his fix adrian cant work bc hes sick :( blair has to take care of him :(. they drift from long stay motel to long stay motel for maybe a year. one day blair is coming back ‘home’ from an appointment with a john when she finds adrian dead from a herion overdose. their room was paid up for a week and she spends that week alternating between lying on adrians lap, dissociating. curled into a corner facing the wall as fsr away from his corpse as she can get, dissociating. and yelling at his body ‘what am i supposed to do now?! what do you want me to do?!’ when time comes for checkout blair panics and tries to kill herself too. but shes (un)fortunately(?) found and wakes up in the er, her estranged father sitting in a chair next to her bed. they havent seen each other since he kicked them out and hasnt seen transitioned blair yet. he tells (her) hes sending (her) to an inpatient facility to get help. no arguments. she asks about adrians funeral. at first dad tries to tell her it wouldnt be ‘appropriate’ for her to attend but after she throws a fit and threatens to kill herself he lets her. but makes her wear a suit and tie up her hair and shes off on a plane early next morning.

noa goderun and her wife hollie (XXXX) (no pintrest… yet?) (they also have twin daughters i havent named yet but they take after noa and theyre the twins from the shining) they both grew up in a cult. noa cant feel anything, physically or emotionally. she develops a fascination with inducing feelings in others that she cant experience. their cult arranges marriages and forces procreation. (hollie is trans) the conception of their twins is the one and only time noa let hollie top. noa terrorizes hollie just to see how she reacts to it. likes to see how hollie walks on eggshells and tries to please her. knowing its an impossibility. (i have this scene in my mind were hollie, at her breaking point asks noa what she did wrong. why noa hates her. noa would be like ???i dont hate you. i enjoy your company. thats worse for hollie) eventually their cult announces a crusade and noa immediately hops on it. shes assigned her own troop and let loose. throughout the crusade noa indulges her fascination and likes to torture nuns to death especially. she sends ‘love letters’ back home to hollie detailing how she tortured a bunch of women to death today. how some of the girls reminded her of hollie. how she took extra time with them. sending hollie locks of hair or finger bones as momentos. their cult eventually looses, badly! and has to sue to peace, running back home. but noa has been winning all her battles and says fuck that and keeps burning churches and killing holy leaders. giving noa up becomes one of their conditions for peace. noa continues to send her love letters to hollie and accidentally reveals her location in one of them. hollie turns noa in and shes ambushed. her troop is killed and noa is publicly executed for her many many crimes. noa goes to hell and makes a deal with the devil to be resurrected, as long as she goes on a new crusade. this time for satan against her former cult. noa asks if that means shell get to kill her wife

shedshy (placeholder name) (present day. present time) scene queen taxidermist. my completely original oc character not based on any preexisting media. spends too much time on sh.ed twt. likes dead and gross things