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sharkenedfangs · 3 months

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— ☆ “INTERLOCK YOUR LIPS WITH MINE.”

#. — synopsis. imitating that of a lamb with his love-sick actions should’ve gotten anyone sick to catch the slightest glimpse of his foolish grin, yet he’s way too blind to plainly realize that when his nimble fingers are so tenderly intertwined with yours, isn’t he?

#. — content warning! woah, barely any and none at all. first kiss, lots of kissing, tongue n shit, away from prying eyes, frottage, dry humping, obsessive — male kylar, ‘angelic’ male reader and well, fuck. some pining and yearning as per usual, mostly on kylar’s part.

#. — word count? 3.5k.

#. — asher, please. shut the fuck up. : “shitty tribute to the loser who made me discover this sick ass game. your reward? a tongue deep down your throat, you little whore.”

Evidently speaking, the last of things Kylar should be gleefully content about is the undeniable fact that here you are, sat atop this cushioned mattress due to your sheer brashness, impulsivity that had landed you both straight into the nurse’s office. Or perhaps, you had initially intended for precisely this to happen, so that he may naturally tag along with you.

Confidently raising your hand amidst an important lesson in class, falsely claiming that the quivering freak here, miserably suffered of a stomach ache as if he truly had one, huh— carefully roping the poor boy in another one of your clever, little schemes. Immediately tugging onto one of his used sleeves with an innocent expression of your own, how you so seamlessly fool the teachers is beyond him, really.

Though, he does get the slightest idea that it’s either from your shockingly pristine reputation that others are inclined to openly favour you or, the angelic gaze you prettily bless anyone with when gazing in their direction. Easy to delve further into sinful temptation, including your boyish charms if a mere flutter of your eyelashes and quirk of your rosy lips renders someone so stupidly dumb like— well, him. And others, too. Forgot that unnecessary part.

A liar is how he intricately knew you best, after all. Not necessarily a widely spread title you should’ve worn proudly, but hey, who’s he to possibly complain when it meant he could finally, spend some much-needed, well-deserved quality time with his one and only, beloved? Even if through somewhat unethical means entailing that of muttering out plain falsehoods which coincidentally had long since then, slipped past his forgetful mind. No, who’s he to blame himself when you did it firstly, and he simply followed suit to your patient guidance? Imitating that of a lamb with his love-sick actions should’ve gotten anyone sick to catch the slightest glimpse of his foolish grin, yet he’s way too blind to plainly realize that when his nimble fingers are so tenderly intertwined with yours, isn’t he?

Easily distracted by your soothing presence dizzyingly close against his, discreetly hidden amongst the draped curtains that surrounded your sprawled frames within the otherwise desolate room. Save for you two and the absent nurse who’s somehow conveniently away on some unintended business in some other class closely residing nearby. And, ah— truly, you smell so fuckin’ good.. Would it be so bad if he were to subtly close the remaining distance between you both, steadily draw closer to sneakily steal a whiff of your pleasurably sweet scent?? Yeah, no. Damn it, Kylar— Get ahold of yourself. Surely, that’s borderline immoral if not downright creepy to satisfyingly indulge in your depraved instincts simmering beneath this carefully fabricated mask of timidness he’s built over himself. But.. It’s not like you’d actually notice, right?

Ah, who’s he kidding. Was this not your original plan to begin with? Sparing you and him, a moment of solitude to yourselves, the eerie, yet somewhat tranquil silence that had easily settled onto you two, majorly concealed by the rhythmic thudding of his pounding heart deep within his chest. The things you do to him, truly.. Which hopefully, you hadn’t caught ear of that humiliating display of his pure want for you, if not already, obviously shown by the blazing flush adorning the entirety of his face and, not to forget that one minute detail— aching cock securely tucked away beneath his ripped jeans, dying to be coated by the welcoming, warm heat of your tight hole. Hah, even your soft palm would do, at this point, really— he means it.

And if not for the noticeably sweet hitch in his breath when promptly interrupted by a single question you dote upon him, fluttering lashes and glimmering eyes so innocently peering up from below him as though you’re stupidly unaware of the intended effects you possess over the depraved freak. A mere command wistfully whispered out from your lips would be all he needs to readily obey in turn, but he manages to with some measly restraint lazily placed upon himself, in favour of listening to your ushered curiosity.

“Say, have you ever kissed anyone before, Ky?” Simplest of questions, really— that would require an affirmative response of either yes or no, yet he finds himself unable to properly answer when faced with that subtle tilt of your head. ‘Course you’d be crudely conscious of whether or not he had done so, wouldn’t you? Unless you’re dumbly feigning ignorance to the undeniable prospect that he is seen as nothing more than undesirable by most and rightfully so, actually.

Anyone who truly attends the local school of Oxford would’ve grown painfully aware of the humiliating fact that this loser, right here, could’ve been nothing more than a miserable virgin because who the hell in their right mind — would possibly want to lay their untouched hands, much less their precious lips upon his own? Not necessarily a factual rumour that realistically bothers him since it simply means he gets to solely concentrate his energy on you; His loveable darling, right?

Quick to frantically shake his head in retaliation to the uttered query, more or less due to the increasingly pleasurable realization as to why you’ve originally dragged him along here in the first place. You.. ah, you intend to grace him with a blessing of your own, surely so? Grant him the chance of a lifetime and graciously allow him to breathlessly press his chapped lips against your own unblemished ones. How he has desperately longed— no, yearned to do so for ages and here you are, selflessly offering yourself up to him like the sweet fruit of sin a feathered breath’s away from gratefully being savoured by his drooling maw. Yeah, he’s definitely not hurriedly jumping off to conclusions from the sole, albeit indiscernable hint that you idly inquired him with a hyper specific question tumbling forth from your lips, right? This is definitely not just some make-belief fantasy his fogged up, deluded mind dreamily decided to suddenly make up, right??

“N-No, I’ve.. never k-kissed anyone— before.” He replies, breathless and shaky. Voice quiet, small, sounding barely audible to the ears. Embarrassingly enough, stuttering off in his stifled speech, strung up in a series of incoherent nonsense he wishes to truly express. Scalding warmth creeping up the sides of his skin, spreading out like a wildfire out of control — to the point where he can feel the scarlet flush of red extensively growing all over. Mainly a question of his own as to why it’s him of all people you’re lovingly in contact with right now, tenderly clasping your hands together in an affectionate hold.

Ah, right— is this seriously happening? Not only is he preciously embracing you within his fragile grasp, but you’re also willingly choosing to peer so intimately close to him like this? Considering your well-beloved status, held in high regards by the entirety of the school, openly revered by the same students who don’t dare to glance twice in his direction nor accept him for his nervous oddity— it’s an.. interesting choice on your part. Not that he’s complaining, not at all!

However, he’d like to know if you had, before him. Anyone else who could’ve stolen such a gesture meant to be happily cherished, preserved for the right person who’d somehow come along. A person which he hopes is himself when it comes to you, curious eyes meeting your own underneath the mess of a fringe he doesn’t bother to brush out early in the morning. Tentative bite of his swollen lip, soon becoming bloody in the anxious act of chewing upon the sensitive flesh.

“Um… Have— Have you ever kissed anyone before?” Redirecting the spotlight onto you, maybe to soothe the growing anxieties burrowing deep within his pumping heart, anticipation dizzyingly occupying him in a held breath when awaiting for your eventual response in return. Honestly, if you had.. He wouldn’t entirely know what he’d do then.

“Me? Hm, no. I haven’t either. I’m saving it for a special someone.” Special someone. Yeah, that’s all his sluggish brain hazily registered from that answer, solely fixated on who— wait, could it be him? Are your coy, little hints subtly being dropped here and there, discreet glances sent his way when accompanied by the aversion of your eyes in a slight display of shared nervousness, meant for a loser like him of all people? That serene smile you habitually wear though is making the whole ‘figuring out’ part a bit difficult for him. And, as properly known by most, specially when he repeatedly echoes out to the school that you two are ‘boyfriends’, unaware of your fragile status at hand — he’s not exactly the best at picking up on subtle social cues being decisively shot towards him, either.

“O-Oh, so you’re.. You and I are the same.” Probably shouldn’t be gleefully filling him with such giddiness to know no crooked bastard didn’t steal your precious first kiss, solely meant for him, but it still does. Familiar, manic grin cracking upon his face, eagerly tugging at his lips the same way his shaky hands come to invasively paw along the hem of your school shirt. Lightly tussled with the tailored collar scandalously coming undone, just for him, right? And, he’s soooo lucky to be the only one to gaze upon you in such a disheveled state, least, he hopes so.

“That’s right, we’re the same. Isn’t that funny? Me, being the same as you — of all people too, but y’know.. that doesn’t really bother me actually.” If that was intended as an insult cruelly shot towards him then, the entirety of the punch-line or hinted implications thinly veiled at hand, had gone over his blurring head. No, no— all he’s acutely aware of is that here, the both of you are, in an otherwise isolated room without the annoyingly probable possibility that someone might mindlessly walk upon your perched frames, catch you in the.. uh, yeah, the act. Act of kissing.. each other?

Or, is that impulsively moving a tad bit too far? As much as a clumsy ditz he can be, at the worst of times too, this must mean something, no? Like the mere gesture of hastily hauling him along to the nurse’s office, a shitty excuse you promptly made up on the spot, to grant you two some privacy isn’t just originally meant to be spent for idle chatter, surely so? Simply fiddling his thumbs together won’t aid him in finding out either, so he might as well.. ask.

Swallowing down thickly the anxious lump annoyingly residing deep within his throat, skittish eyes evasively avoiding your sharp gaze boring into his own to at least, somewhat calm himself before precisely asking the lingering question that’s been hanging heavily upon his mind. That— well, god.. he’s never been really good with words, has he?

“Why’d you— Why did you lie to the teacher about me having a stomach ache and bring me here then?” Good. That’s pretty direct, isn’t it? Save for the droplets of sweat quickly accumulating along the edge of his forehead, noticeably trickling down the length of his heated cheeks as if it wasn’t painfully obvious enough on its own what a nerve-wracking mess he suddenly becomes within your presence. You’re just so— so… shit, he can’t possibly describe it! All he desires is confirmation at the moment, confirmation for your mutual sentiments towards each other.

“Oh, cmon. Don’t tell me you’re that clueless, are you?” Well, yes. He is. Subtle cock of your head, sweetest chuckle he’s ever heard along with that rather innocent smile you adopt when asked your self-evident intentions here. “Wow. You really are, huh. Isn’t it obvious? Why do you think I went through all the trouble of coming up with a little lie for you, give us some alone time together? I’m not that nice to anyone.”

Recognizable smile effortlessly shifting to that of a smirk, feathered breaths alarmingly close against his burning face as the distance between you both progressively shrinks down to barely any space entirety. “You see.. I need a bit of reassurance to soothe my anxieties, y’know. What I want is for you to prove your love to me. Right now.”

Thumping heart steadily increasing at an alarming rate, scarred fingers nimbly picking and fiddling with the loose threads hanging along his used hoodie. Prove his undying love to you? “P-Prove it?” Audibly gulping down before echoing out the previously uttered command. “How should I prove it?” Oh, anything. He’s willing to do anything for you. Without hesitance nor objection. Hell, you could ask him to jump off a building, and he’d do it in a heartbeat. Just — for the love of god, say it already — say what he needs to do to selflessly prove his inborn devotion precisely made for you.

“Kiss me.” Uttering it out so effortlessly, breathlessly and well, he’s not one to make you sorrowfully wait, is he?

Nodding vigorously, like the lovesick puppy that he is for you — already peering closer towards your sprawled frame in a held breath, slightest hitch and rhythmic thump! of his heart when he’s selflessly granted the opportunity to finally, fucking finally — steal your first kiss away from you.

And, hah— truly, he’s so grateful for your direct orders, y’know? Because without it, he’d basically be a sweating, quivering mess, not that he isn’t either, just that — his nimble hands, normally shaking with second-guesses wouldn’t be so confident in their movements, tenderly cupping at your smooth cheek within the cup of his palm as he breathlessly presses his needy lips upon your awaiting own. Oh. Oh, fucking god, how dizzyingly sweet you taste, a full-on body shudder immediately descending the entirety of his arched back, instantly bending forward to pin you down onto the squeaky mattress underneath you both.

Careful not to make the smallest of sounds however! Wouldn’t wanna be caught sloppily making out with the most popular student in school, or maybe he does.. Just to— ah, prove to those repulsive creeps shamelessly salivating over the mere sight of your figure, that you’re strictly off limits. His alone to greedily savour. Mine. His mind endlessly echoes as this continuously carries on, and he’s not one either to selfishly complain, is he?

Love you— Love you so much. Repetition drumming along his brain, however, it was clear this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing off the bat, not when you two were so desperately clinging onto each other like this. Fervently locking your lips together in a soundless kiss, hitched breath threatening to slip past yours if Kylar were to go any further — probably would though. Bad idea, yeah. Knew it was, but the mind numbingly good haze gradually washing over him as you both mutually caved in to your instinctual desires drew him in. Since it feels way too good to intimately be pressed against each other like this, openly whining down one another’s throat currently occupied by his. “I-I love you.” He murmurs, gasps against your mouth. Slick, wet tongue desperately sliding against his own, crudely sharing each other’s spits that yeah— he’ll probably be reminiscing upon later for certain.. purposes meant to be shared in an unoccupied stall of the school’s bathroom, pervertedly fisting his fat cock to the sheer memory of your addictive taste like a starving man, an utter freak.

Unable to help himself with the borderline pathetic whimper freely drawn out of his mouth, eyes easily slipping close to hungrily drink in yours too — rather subtle, faintly audible to the naked ear, but he still manages to catch it, catch the stifled whine, minor tremble in your perfect fingers instinctively finding themselves entangled within the mop of loose hair on his head. Tugging at the dark strands even, ah fuck.. His arms, already wrapped around your frame, tightening automatically to make sure you don’t somehow, escape from his clutched grasp. As if you could with the death-grip he’s withholding over you right now, practically digging in the white material of your school uniform, ruffling it all up for you to harshly reprimand him for later — not that it’s his actual initial concern here, really. Oh, if anything, he’s got something way better pleasurably keeping him busy.

“K-Kylar—“ Your incoherent mewls are just the cutest, y’know? Yes, yes, he’ll briefly apologize later for rudely cutting you off! But, something simple as a kiss when done with you, feels so fucking good — fuck, he might as well be cummin’ in his pant, which he sort of is with all the accumulated pre-cum messily dripping from his leaking tip, staining the elastic fabric all sticky in his ill-fitted jeans from precariously grinding your clothed erections together, seeking friction.

His hips involuntarily thrusting forward, or maybe intentionally — truly he’ll never admit to it! — instantly flushing at his salacious actions that, oh.. you’re a blubbering mess under him, heaving chest rhythmically puffing out before ultimately descending down to shakily exhale out a sigh. Cutest, erect buds blatantly visible underneath the rather thin fabric of your uniform, ones he’d like nothing more than to sloppily drool all over, savagely suckle on with a wet pop! of his tongue and leave his slippery mark there like some sort of— of, fucking madman.

Fuck, fuck fuck… if this keeps up, he’s bound to cream in his pants from a single kiss! Eyes automatically rolling to the back of his skull with every eager tug on his ripped sleeves, cock profusely leaking out slippery, warm pre to leave behind a trailing mess in his boxers. So fuckin’ whipped, downright enamoured by you that he’d be dying a happy man simply from having his longtime wish fulfilled, hidden desires fervently reciprocated by a lock of your lips upon his. All because of you — hah, you, darling. Don’t you realize the weight of his unending love for you by now?

Unfortunately though, as much as it would’ve been thoroughly appreciated to contentedly continue on like this, paired by the couple of gasping moans and wistful sighs collectively drawn forth from each other’s lips; One had to eventually be the one to pull away and you, of course, you were the first to reluctantly do so, drawing back slightly in a sloppy attempt to create some much needed space between your quivering bodies. Disheveled hair carelessly brushed aside to display the scarlet flush of your cheeks accompanied by dazed eyes hidden beneath the fluttering of your lashes.

Nearly whimpering when you effectively slip back for air, clutched fingers instinctively chasing after your retreating figure as though he was merely nothing without it. Which, he sort of is, pleading gaze and pouty lips sinfully directed to your decisive move, slumping back miserably once you’re out of his clawing reach. “A-Ah, don’t go.. I mean! Was — Was it good? Did I do okay?” He asks sheepishly, pink tongue experimentally swiping along his bottom lip to lick it clean, wild, green eyes flicking downwards to your kiss-swollen lips before hurriedly darting away. Seeking for your judgement and approval as per usual. How typical of him, huh.

“You— ah, you did, actually.” Catching your breath, looking so damn pretty when your usually flawless composure is crumbled along with his. He wants to break it till you’re a crying mess, really. “God, I didn’t know someone could kiss like that. You sure this is your first time, Kylar?” Don’t tease him like that! ‘Course it is, how could it ever be anyone but you??

“Y-Yeah, you’re my first— first kiss.” A confirmation to your question, meek nod of his head as he now wonders what exactly is there left to be said after such a heated encounter, but as always, you’re the one to make the first move — a step ahead of him every single time and, honestly, he loves you for it.

“Wanna kiss me again?”

Who’s he to not oblige to your every whim anyway? He’s only Kylar. The school freak. Absolute loser in town and the one you’re also, pervertedly sharing spit with too.

Guess he won’t have to creepily suckle on the tip of the chewed straw from your strawberry milkshake you normally sip at during lunch then. Since his lips will find themselves far more busy with something else later.

And by the sultry look you adopt, regarding him carefully with a quirk of your lips — he’s getting the slightest idea that maybe, his time will be better spent in the nurse’s office from now on, hasty kisses sneakily shared underneath the cooling shade of a sapling, arms eagerly looped around your waist to steal a quick kiss of his own. Whether in the tight space of a bathroom stall or the dusty storage closet, he’s content to have you in his arms no matter the place.

So, this time, don’t be the first to pull away— no, he’d hate to have to pin you down beneath his weight for you to properly take what he has so selflessly prepared for you today, ‘kay?

It’d be only be rude to deny him of what he’s patiently waited so long for like a good boy, no?

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spitdrunken · 8 months

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i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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miralure · 9 months

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A Selection of Music Posters by Miralure

Hey guys, I challenged myself to make my own piece of CC this year so I started with something simple and made some music posters of some of my favourite artists and bands. This is my first piece of CC ever so please be nice LMAO. I originally made this for personal use but decided to share them. Anyway, I hope you like them, and let me know if there's any problems with them. (Shameless self promo: my Spotify account if you wanna look through the shitshows of my playlists)

(Download link at the bottom)

Technical Info:

☆ 15 swatches ☆ BGC! ☆ 4.7mb ☆ New mesh, modified from EA ☆ Search "music posters by miralure" in build mode

List of musicians in order of swatch (Unedited preview gif under the cut):

☆ Duran Duran (x2) ☆ Beastie Boys (x2) ☆ Olivia Rodrigo (x1) ☆ Talking Heads ☆ Baby Keem and Kendrick Lamar ☆ Playboi Carti ☆ Eminem ☆ Katy Perry ☆ System of a Down ☆ Korn ☆ The B-52s ☆ Primus ☆ a-ha ☆ Oingo Boingo

TOU:

☆ If you wanna use the mesh go ahead!! Just tag me so I can see what you do with it (you don't need to ask) ☆ If you use them in your builds, please tag me (I really would like to see!!) ☆ You can include in CC folders, tray folders, builds etc, just tag me (again, I would like to see) ☆ Don't update to shitty websites (simsdom, curseforge) or put them under paywalls ☆ Recolours of course are allowed, and you can include the mesh, just tag me (again, you don't need to ask) ☆ Otherwise I do not care what anyone does with them, put them in CC folders, builds, recolour them, whatever idgaf!!!!

Download | SimsFileShare

@alwaysfreecc @emilyccfinds @maxismatchccworld @sssvitlanz @public-ccfinds @mmfinds @itsjessicaccfinds

Thank you to everyone who created these graphics. Proper poster credit/links/higher quality graphics found here.

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freyjas-musings · 3 months

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So , now that the event has officially come to an end I think I would like to say my 2 cents on the troll account that popped in the middle of an event . Irrespective of which fandom or side this person belongs to one thing that is accurate is that it's an abomination that shouldn't have been born at all. I am a 100% sure its someone everyone hates in their real life too.

TW : INSENSITIVE SA DISCOURSE POINTED OUT

Now, is it fair to blame the entire group of Elriels for that troll? No , but what is shitty is Elriels pretending an Elriel has "never" done anything like that.... That's inaccurate...

Below is an example from a verified Elriel account saying exactly the same sort of shit .... since some of you want to pretend it's not an elriel thing

There you go a verified Elriel who has been around for a while ... and consistent discourse in SA insensitivity. .. So its reasonable for people to assume the troll account is an Elriel... stop pretending to be Victims. I have a few more examples from other accounts that are verified Elriel too

One of Elriels lead Commissioners on Gwyn ... So this BS that Elriels have never made hate posts or insensitive posts about Gwyn is farthest from the truth. No one is buying it .

2. This troll account popped up in the middle of an event, an event that was going exceptionally well and was getting the recognition and reach it deserved , why would one of our own cause Drama to disrupt that ?

3. The trolls brain , the quality of that brain is unbelievable.... its unfortunately questionable ... How ?

Elriels: They are trying to pretend to be Elriel so they can make us look bad....

Troll : while completely engaging in anti gwyn and Gwynriel discourse ... Littering all over an event page by leaving disgusting comments on the content.... tagging all their posts Elriel

I mean the quality of that brain, if this was someone who created that account to make Elriels look bad why on earth would they say they "aren't" Elriel 😅😅😅😅😅

This is the sort of brain that comes up with bread and roses so please don't blame us for assuming this asshole is an Elriel.

Now , do I care which side that asshole belongs to ? Not really , anyone who has been here a while knows shitty people in this fandom are rampant irrespective of the side .

Sexual Abuse is not limited to females so when someone writes terrible things about SA survivors it's not gender based hate speech , Male assault is just as real and relevant too.. its an insult to SA Survivors as a whole ... I don't give a fuck about people's personal opinions about fictional characters but when you specifically write posts that are insensitive towards what is a very real issue in today's world you should stand up against it irrespective of the group .

I am specifically not tagging Elriel in this post because I have no interest in interacting with any of them . This is for my side , my people for Gwyn stans ... for Gwynriel stans .... so I am specifically asking Elriels to stay away from my blog and posts.

I am going to be inactive on this account for a few weeks , I am truly burnt out with the fandom and some of the things I have read about survivors in the recent few days has unfortunately triggered me a lot. Based on my discussion with my friends and my husband I do feel the best course of action for me would be to take a brief break ... I will be back for Elucien Week 🤗

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwynriel #gwyn acosf #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #azriel #post acosf #acosf theory #acotar fandom #fandom fuckery #pro gwyn #pro gwyneth berdara

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gia-d · 10 months

Note

Do you have any recommendations on how to learn bookbinding? It looks super cool, but I don't know where to start.

It depends on the type of bookbinding you want to get into, my focus is primarily on hardcover case bound books, so if that is what you are keen on, here are some resources that I found incredibly useful while learning:

YouTube

DAS bookbinding has a whole bunch of really detailed, professional tutorials that are incredibly useful. He covers multiple types of binds and techniques and they are all very easy to follow. (I always laugh when I watch his videos tho because he’s Aussie like me and he has the EXACT same shitty tiles in his workroom that I have in my house.)

Sea Lemon does bookbinding amongst other crafts, and while her videos are shorter and less in depth, they are very friendly for beginners and offer alternatives if you don’t have all the tools/equipment at home

Omgreylo is great for if you are doing fanbinding, she also has videos on typesetting, which is something you’ll want to learn too if you are planning on fanbinding. Her videos are also very chill and sometimes I’ll just watch them to relax because I’m a nerd.

Ingenious Designs has some really good videos on some more advanced skills like edge gilding and working with leather bound books. He’s also really charismatic so his videos are fun and informative.

I’m probably forgetting a few, but those channels have all been super useful. The other thing that I do and highly recommend is just browsing the bookbinding and fanbinding tags on tumblr, reddit and instagram to see what other people are doing. A lot of people (including myself when I finally remember to actually take pictures and record the process) will post progress photos alongside the finished project and will talk about the process. Most people are quite happy to answer any questions you might have about their projects too so don’t be afraid to ask.

Also the most important piece of advice I can give, if you are serious about bookbinding, GET YOURSELF SOME SHORT-GRAIN PAPER. It makes all the difference in terms of quality, ease of use, and durability.

Anyways if anyone else has any other resources or tips they think are useful, please feel free to add!

#bookbinding #fanbinding #my asks

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snortoborto · 9 months

Text

This is literally the only website where fans of G3 Monster High can exist in peace without being fucking crucified by G1 purist types.

I grew up in Pony Fandom, I'm used to seeing how adults react to reboots, but I have never seen a fandom (of a children's toy line, lest we forget) act so horribly vindictive towards a reboot, and it's fans. A very high quality, thoughtful reboot at that.

You literally can't just enjoy G3 without someone screaming in your ear about how bitter they are that theyre not a kid anymore. That Monster High isn't catering to the youth culture of of 14 years ago.

I grew up in the 2010s and so many franchises from that time have been reworked. Some good and some bad, but I've never really seen quite the level of dedicated, continuous, distain for a reboot, that I see in the MH fandom.

Its just weird cause they're the same people who tout the "Be Yourself, Be Unique, Be a Monster" tag line of G1. Unless you like a different doll than them...I guess? It's so unserious. I think they remember G1 as being better, or more countercultural/progressive than it actually was. Those dolls and movies are not quite the high art, people pretend that they are.

They also constantly act like G3 killed G1. Wiped it off the face of the earth. All the old stuff is still there, PLUS Mattel is constantly releasing G1 collector dolls. Like, a lot of them.

The pride merch for this year had the G1 ghouls on it, eventhough G3 is the only version with actual cannon representation. (Yes Ik the G1 creator confirmed queer theories and intentions on social media, but it never explicitly made its way into the TV/movies. Its just coding, which is good, but still NOT explicit representation. Plus Garrett likes the new dolls, and posts them on socials. G3 has his blessing.) Why didn't we get some G3 Frankie merch to rep their NB identity? Why didn't we get G3 Clankie on a shirt or something? Mattel is still putting G1 first.

There's plenty of normal G1 fans, obviously, but the shitty ones are LOUD. Mattel can't even post an insta or tiktok video of the G3 cast, without the comments being full of people trashing G3 and attacking any commenter who likes it. Sometimes even shitting on the live action actors and VAs on their personal socials. It's gotten a little less bad since the reboot has been out over a year, but it's still a huge problem.

I'm genuinely confused as to why MH fans are acting worse about a reboot than literal bronies did about MLP G5. I love bronies, I'm a life long pony fan, but ik the fandom can have STRONG opinions on horse show.

When I started using Tumblr, I was surprised to only see love for G3. I'm sure there's hate somewhere, but not that I've seen.

Anyone else have any idea about why this might be? Are other doll-centric fandoms like this? I only really like MH dolls, so idk.

#monster high #monster high g3 #g3 monster high #mh #mhg3 #mh g3 #monster high reeboot #monster high dolls #queer representation #g3 mh #frankie stein #clankie

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pedroshotwifey · 1 year

Text

Joel Fucking Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry

Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!

***

Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended.

Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.

That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be.

You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person.

You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look.

By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left.

Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.

The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth.

You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say.

“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more.

The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point. “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.

***

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil.

“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now.

He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion.

“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering.

You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway.

You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.

***

The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.

To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.

There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner.

You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.

***

It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here.

There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member.

Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway.

Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath.

When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.

Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything.

***

An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now.

You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it.

“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body.

The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.

If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say.

As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze.

Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room.

The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.

The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now.

“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way.

You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.

“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.

Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking.

“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.

“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen.

Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw.

“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.

“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin.

“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to.

You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too. Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone.

To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way.

In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it.

“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole.

“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem.

“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now.

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them.

“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.

“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.

He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening.

You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known.

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out.

Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame.

Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you.

Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time.

You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place.

You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own.

Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing.

You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak.

You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you.

You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again.

“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you.

When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer.

Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side.

You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.

Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds.

You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth.

“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh.

“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him.

The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.

“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right.

He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want.

“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.

Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat.

“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises.

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver.

“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too.

“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down.

“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back.

“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it.

“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you.

“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.

“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants.

“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”

You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust.

You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst.

The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace.

“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”

Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy.

The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust.

The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt.

Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through.

“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls.

When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it.

He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request. If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt.

“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace.

The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt.

You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you.

The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure.

“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly.

“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling.

“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking.

“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.

Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle.

Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation.

“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack.

“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that.

“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.

“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side.

“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek.

“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear.

“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck.

“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter.

“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.” If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point?

“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer.

You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout.

A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs.

Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm.

“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself.

“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body.

At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back.

“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him.

After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open.

You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut.

“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone.

“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello.

Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit.

“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising.

“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.

“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle.

“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”

*****

Pt. 2 here

#joel miller #fan fiction #pedro pascal #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #bless this mess #the last of us #tlou #we likey?#exhibition kink #enemies to lovers #dark!joel miller

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hackedmotionsensors · 3 months

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I went to library con (lol its not called library con but thats what i called it. Its American Library Association Annual which is funny bc they call it ALA and I was like...that shitty anime con???) this week in san diego to promote the comic I worked with Terry on "Eat your Heart Out"

I got jumpscared seeing the big banner. My art has never been on anything bigger than art center presentations lmao

We handed out signed copies and it was honestly pretty fun. I have a ton of bookmarks as well if anyone wants one.....if you can find me in real life LMAO

I also got to be on a PANEL like a big professional lmao And met Josie Campbell an animation brethren and we were like "LETS GO TAG! LETS GET THOSE NEGOTIATIONS!!!!" (Reminder that The Animation Guild is due to negotiate with studios in August so please support us!!!)

Downside was is that some of my sunburns are still really fresh (most of them are in gross peeling stage and some are...kinda painful) so I was a bit sweaty and uncomfortable...and now I'm paying for it bc i feel really under the weather.

BUT. lol my issues aside (it was my own damned fault getting burned the weekend before)

It was really fun!

Librarians are really cool lol Especially since I tried to get into that field during my unemployment last year and a half it was interesting hearing what they had to deal with as Librarians for children or teens (The teen librarians kept talking to me about Slam Dunk and One Piece *u*)

There's also this huge emphasis for book sellers in getting your books IN libraries. Books in actual physical libraries does so much for the value of payments of the book (which in turn pays the authors and artists that work on those books).

And how much librarians and libraries do for the industry as a WHOLE. I learned that back in the day when english manga was coming out they were binding the books REALLY SHITTY and its funny bc I DO remember that. The quality was really bad. And because librarians complained about it, because a book circulates through a lot of people rather than if you buy a volume for yourself, the book will get damaged really fast if the book is made poorly. So Viz had to change HOW they bound their books and you can definitely tell now how the quality is so much nicer.

Anyway it was really cool lol And also since it took place at the San Diego Convention center it was really cool to see what SDCC looks like when its not an absolute cluster fuck of people and noise lol I saw where I slept on the ground outside to get into Hall H and we were treated to a dinner at Roys which I'd only ever seen in passing lol (ALSO ROYS WAS SO EXPENSIVE!?!? And I thought the onigiri was like...the salmon went INTO the onigiri....so that was the dish. but it was...a ball of rice onigiri shaped with some salmon ...and it was REALLY good salmon and the misoyaki was good too but.....i was expecting really expensive onigiri and was oddly disappointed it wasn't....that.......anyway)

ANYWAY ANYWAY lmao. Our comic comes out in August 13! I've finally seen the finished product and it came out so well. Yknow that thing where you see your art from a few years ago and you want to crawl into a hole and die? Well lol I still feel that but also I don't because it honestly looks so good and its nice seeing it all in one whole place! The coloring came out really nice ! And I can't wait to see what Claudia did in the second half of the book

Oh yeah I also got a comped train ticket to get me down there and I got to ride the Amtrak which was pretty cool! I ...was EXHAUSTED on both trips down and back so I slept most of the way lmao But look at this guy!

Lol ALTHO I was genuinely surprised that when we came back from san diego the train just goes in reverse.

On shinkansen the seats on the train are able to turn around so you're always facing forwards. So it was a little disorienting at first. I also wished I had an ekiben on the way down.

Its cool I can get an ekiben in august when i go to japan lmao

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 6 months

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Electric Love - Full Chapter

Want early chapters? Read on Ao3!

Chapter 3: What's in a Deal?

Link to Chapter 1

Notes: Support me by reading on Ao3! Kudos and comments help motivate me to see multi-chapter fics through to the end! I'll be posting announcements for the updates here. Chapters will come out on Ao3 BEFORE tumblr.

Word Count: 5628

Tag List: @sle3pyh3ad2

The extermination was coming in six months.

News spread immediately after the Princess of Hell met with the angels and to say Hell was freaking out was an understatement. For the first few weeks after the announcement, you avoided going outside as much as possible. No one was in their right mind and the more you kept your head down in your little cloaked observatory, the better.

Baxter really had been a game changer when it came to your living situation. You’d put in a lot of hard work fixing up the abandoned place and it looked pretty nice. Too nice for the dark corner of the Pride Ring you were in. He’d given you a cloaking device that made the observatory look as shit and abandoned as the rest of the dead neighborhood while the inside was in comfortable condition.

Even with the system in place, you slept with one eye open as you noticed more sinners slink into the area. Due to the recent news, it seemed some were considering using the district as a potential hideout for the upcoming extermination. Everyone was on edge and nothing felt safe.

Despite this, you had a life to live. Everyone did. Which is why after a while, things went back to normal. You buried yourself in your work to avoid dwelling on the anxiety of the shitty afterlife you were dealt and that was that. Work wasn’t the only thing occupying your attention either.

For the first couple of weeks, since Vox had gracelessly stumbled into your life, there was silence. Not wanting to get anyone’s hopes up, you kept your mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone about the deal you had made. Even with the protection of the deal, you didn’t doubt that someone as powerful as an Overlord could easily double-cross someone like you.

But then it happened. First, it was just one of your friends texting the group chat you were in that they were free of their contract. You’d all hopped on a group call and planned a celebration while she happily cried uncontrollably. She had no other explanation for Valentino’s change in heart other than him telling her that he simply got bored of her services and didn’t want to waste the studio slots on her. While that comment did bruise her ego a bit, she was too relieved to care.

Then it hit all at once. Everyone on the list was suddenly blowing up your phone with the news that they’d been released from their contracts and could start a new afterlife with their newfound freedom. Apparently, Valentino had covered up the entire thing by saying it was a quality cull for the sake of his image. Only a few people took the time to wonder if there was something more to the whole thing. Especially since some of the sinners he released were fairly popular for their work.

The only time you left your home for anything other than basic errands was the night you all gathered at a club and celebrated over the weekend. It was one of the craziest parties you’d ever been to, filled with drugs, sex, and a lot of happy crying.

You thought that was the end of it. Life would go back to normal aside from the growing political tensions between Heaven and Hell. You would stay cooped up and work your ass off on putting together your game and keep to yourself aside from the occasional night on the town with friends. So you personally thought your disbelief was entirely warranted when your day was interrupted by a certain overlord knocking on your front door.

Vox tapped his foot impatiently as he looked around the neighborhood. The place was a piece of shit. It wasn’t like anyone hiding out here would be stupid enough to attack someone with his reputation, but he still felt unsettled as he knocked again and waited for you to let him in. He wasn’t in the mood to repeat what happened the last time he barged in unannounced.

The sound of you crashing about behind the large double doors could be heard. It took a moment before you finally appeared, opening the door with disheveled hair and a bathrobe lazily hanging off of one shoulder, barely revealing your pajamas underneath.

"Vox," you breathe before you chuckle awkwardly. "I'd say you should have called first, but you don't have my number."

"Technically I could if I looked hard enough," Vox chuckled as he looked at the disheveled state you were in. “But is it really so surprising that I’d check in after finishing the last of our little deal?”

"Kinda, yeah," you shake your head as you step back to let him in. You were immediately skeptical. There was no way Vox came all the way to such a sketchy corner of Hell just to be told he did a good job. He wanted something and you weren’t too keen on having that discussion out in the open. The faint shimmer of a cloaking barrier could be seen in the doorway. "Come on in."

The overlord stepped inside, his eyes flicking around the room and taking in everything that he could. He’d only seen the small office tucked in the back of the observatory the last time he was here. There was a big circular opening with a broken-down telescope that connected to the dome-like ceiling in the middle of the room. A desk covered with papers was pushed up against the side of the telescope and you’d split the large space into three areas in an attempt to refashion the space for living purposes.

There was a kitchen made out of plug-in appliances and mismatched furniture on the left. Vox cringed as he saw the power cords working overtime just to keep everything running. The telescope seemed to act as a secondary office for you and you had a couch with a TV setup not too far from it to imitate a living room space. There were also dozens of boxes filled with junk that he had to imagine originally belonged to the observatory and you just never got around to disposing of properly.

"Can I get you anything?" You say as you step into the main space after closing and bolting the doors behind you. Annoyed that your bathrobe keeps slipping off of your shoulder, you fight with it for a moment before foregoing it entirely and tossing it over a tower of books.

"Coffee, if you have it," Vox replied as he followed you into the small living room area. “The amount of shit I’ve had to take care of every since the bimbo leading Hell fucked us all over has left me running on caffeine for the past month.”

He didn't mind the sight of books being stacked up on top of each other as he glanced around, taking in the area. Though the place wasn't the best-looking, it was evident that you had put a lot of work into making it livable. Considering how it looked on the outside, he could only imagine the state the place was in back when you found it.

You start prepping a fresh pot of coffee, wanting some for yourself as well. "So, my friends texted me," you say.

You turn and lean against the counter to look at him properly while the kitchen appliance worked its magic. "They all told me the same thing. How Valentino cut their contracts, saying he was doing quality control for the studio out of the blue. You kept your end of the deal."

"Yes, I did. But that's not the only reason I've come here," Vox murmured as he idly looked at some of the papers on the coffee table in the corner. "I couldn’t help but be intrigued by your… connections.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him as you watch him put down a paper that doesn’t keep his attention. “What about them?”

“At first, I didn’t care too much about your friends,” Vox admitted. “But I couldn’t help but shake the image of you with Angel Dust. So I did some digging and I’m just going to cut to the point. You’ve been to that hotel the princess has been running, haven’t you?”

You cross your arms, studying him carefully, “Well, aren’t you quite the stalker?”

“I like knowing things,” Vox waved you off with a frown. “But for good reason. It’s true, right?”

“It is,” you shrug, not seeing a reason to hide it. “At first, I just went to visit Angel. Helped him move in and stuff like that. The group there grew on me and I help out around the hotel sometimes if Angel and I aren’t already doing something else.”

Vox grins and you immediately catch on to his line of thought. "I'll say it now, don't get your hopes up," you warn him as the coffee pot beeps behind you. "I care for Charlie and Angel Dust a lot. I helped you against Valentino, but I won't betray the hotel."

"I’m not stupid,” Vox chuckles. “You’re a fool if you think that I don't already know you wouldn't betray them." The overlord scoffed as he watched you turn to search the cupboards for mugs.

"You're far too compassionate for your own good, little drama queen,” Vox said with a roll of his eyes as he walked over to you. “Which is why you're rather easy to read. You claim you don’t care about the power struggles in Hell, but in the same breath, you helped me against Valentino… That tells me that you may be willing to strike up another deal."

Your fingers freeze just as you’re about to pluck a mug from the shelf. You knew it was coming and yet, it still caught you off guard. "...What did you have in mind?"

"You see, my dear old rival Alastor has been up to something and I don’t know what. He's getting a bit too close to little Miss Morningstar for my own comfort, and it's becoming… rather bothersome." Vox murmured as he watched you idly. "Though that's just the surface; there is also the fact that I'd like to be able to keep a constant eye on him. As you well know, Alastor enjoys playing with his cards close to his chest..."

“So what?” You frown as you pour the coffee into the mismatched mugs. “You want me to spy on Alastor?”

“Precisely,” Vox grins. He’d chosen someone too naive and careless the last time he attempted to get eyes on the inside of the hotel. You met the requirements Velvette had clearly laid out and unlike the snake, you had proper potential. Still stupid in your own ways, but not like the previous dumbass he’d tried to use for this particular purpose.

"And why would I do that?" You frown. "You've already played the card you had with me. There’s nothing else I could possibly want from you.”

"Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure," Vox smirked as he took one of the mugs. "I’d like to think our last little exchange was rather beneficial for us both. I’m nothing if not resourceful and everyone has their price.”

"And you think you know mine?" You frown, pulling open your fridge and grabbing the ingredients to turn your bitter black coffee into a mocha. The fact that Vox was drinking his black disgusted you, but you supposed when he needed that much coffee to get by, he didn’t have the time to be picky. "Even if I were to agree to this deal, it'd come with a lot of conditions. I meant it when I said I won't compromise the hotel."

"I’d expect nothing less,” Vox shrugged as he took a sip. “And we’ll get to that part next. Right now, you want to know what’s in it for you. Any smart demon wouldn’t bother with a deal that didn’t benefit them in some way and I’ve got just the thing.”

You’re completely unimpressed by the shift into a sales pitch, but say nothing as you mix chocolate powder and raspberry syrup into your drink.

“I know that you have rather a deep love for your work and your creations, so if you were to help me keep an eye on Alastor... I’m happy to give you what you want more than anything,” Vox grinned as he prepared to offer you what he was thoroughly convinced was the key to pulling you under his wing of control.

“More than just money, more than that Radio Demon could ever offer you… I’m willing to give you your very own company. A company that would allow you to complete whatever project your heart desires with the full financial support of a top-tier overlord in Hell.”

Vox smirked as he watched your movements slow to a stop throughout his sales pitch. “Does that sound interesting to you, little drama queen?"

He knew he had you. There was no way he didn’t. He’d done his research and saw how low your statistics were. You’d posted art and various other types of content on your social media and you had a following, but it wasn’t large. Especially not compared to what he knew it could be. The game you were working on was clearly meant to be your big debut into the industry, but even without that, the quality of your work was nothing to scoff at. With the power and control he was offering you, your numbers would skyrocket. You’d no longer be a team of one and could bring your visions to life at a much higher speed with far more efficiency than you could dream of on your own.

Your hesitation speaks volumes and he’s just waiting smugly for you to take the bait. However, instead, you just smile softly and shake your head. "You're going to think I'm crazy, but I'll actually pass on that."

There’s a beat of silence as Vox replays your answer in his head to make sure he heard you right. He nearly dropped the mug in his hands as he comprehended that you genuinely just turned him down.

"You're… joking, right?" Vox exclaimed in disbelief, as he set down the mug on the counter. "You're going to pass up on being the owner of your very own company with infinite financing and control?”

"Yup," you say with a pop for emphasis. "My content is my heart and soul. It's my passion. It has to be built up from my hard work, my dreams, and my well-intentioned connections. If I let someone else just hand it all to me on a silver platter, it wouldn’t be the same at all."

"You're absolutely insane," Vox muttered, shaking his head as he questioned your sanity entirely. "You’re seriously refusing my deal? You refuse infinite fucking funding?! All because of what? Pride?”

"Yeah," you said easily with a relaxed grin as you went back to stirring your drink like you hadn’t just casually declined all the power and money to make your dreams come true.

The overlord took a deep steadying breath as he tried to process the absolute stupidity of your decision. There wasn’t a single sinner in Hell that would pass up on a deal like this, and you just... turned it down in favor of hard work and dedication. The insane stubbornness of your choice left him speechless.

"That being said," you hum thought thoughtfully. "I do think you have something else that I'd be willing to trade for."

The overlord's attention snaps back to you, looking over you skeptically. "Oh, well now I'm curious... What could you possibly want more than an entire goddamn company?"

"It’s something you actually brought up during our last deal,” you say as you sip your drink and lean back against the counter. “I know Valentino would never release Angel Dust's contract willingly," you start carefully. "So instead, I want you to distract Valentino. For as long as I uphold my end of the deal regarding Alastor, you will do everything you can to protect Angel Dust from Valentino's anger and abuse.”

"Protect Angel Dust from Valentino's abuse..." Vox murmured as he shifted back. It wasn’t an easy request. In fact, Vox wondered if it was even possible. He was already running scenarios and contradictions over in his mind as he considered the possibilities. "And… how would you want me to go about doing that?"

"Subtly," you sigh. "If you're too direct, it could just make Valentino angrier and more violent with Angel. Butter up Valentino, distract him, send other sinners his way, whatever it takes. Just… lessen the damage and keep Valentino from catching on.”

"Hmm... that is quite a fascinating challenge you've given me…” Vox murmured as he ran his thumb along his chin. “But, I think I can manage.”

If anything, your proposition intrigued him. Rather than getting to just hand you money and power, which he had plenty of, you were putting him in just as sticky of a situation as the one he wanted to put you in. It set the playing field on equal ground. Neither of you were asking the other to completely betray their factions, but you were both putting each other at high risk.

"I'll keep tabs on Alastor, just like you want,” you frown. As much as you hated the idea of doing it, Alastor was one of the only people at the hotel you had no real connection with. He’d never seemed interested in what you had to offer, so he didn’t waste his time on you. Likewise, you were too focused on Angel and Charlie to pay him much mind either.

“However,” you clarify. “I'll only relay the information I discover of his personal activities. Anything involved with the hotel or Charlie is off-limits."

"Hm..." Vox murmured, considering the terms of the deal. "Very well then, I'll agree to these terms. I may not be a fan of the hotel, but ultimately I don’t care about it half as much as I do Alastor. I want to know what he’s trying to gain from the hotel, but anything involving the princess’s little pet project doesn’t particularly interest me anyway.”

You pause, thinking hard before nodding. "One more condition. If Alastor catches me and kills me for what I'm doing for you, you have to keep protecting Angel Dust from Valentino until whatever you had planned for lessening Valentino’s influence is underway.”

"Hmm..." The overlord murmured as he thought for a moment before he slowly nodded. "Very well, I accept these terms. I’ll protect Angel Dust until I take Valentino down for my own schemes. Do you have anything else to add before we conclude this deal?"

You shake your head, "I'm guessing you'll want to make at least one other deal with me one day. Knowing that, you'd be foolish to try to loophole or double-cross me with this deal. So I think we're good to go."

"I think you have a rather good understanding of me, little drama queen." The overlord grinned. Every time he thought he knew what to expect, you managed to pull the rug out from under him. Rather than being annoyed by the change in his original plans for this deal, he was excited and curious to see what other surprises could come from being involved with you. "Alright then... with that being said, we should seal our deal."

Your magic flares, as the familiar purple mist flows gently around you. You hold out your hand, ready to seal the deal. For the protection of your friend, you were willing to betray Alastor. You may not have hated him like Vox did, but you were somewhat wary of him. The way he always seemed like he was hiding ill intentions behind his permanent grin never settled well with you. There had been times you wondered yourself what he wanted from Charlie and while you weren’t as close to the princess as you were with Angel, you could tell if things kept going the way they were, you’d care for her just as much as any of your other friends. With that in mind, this was a risk you were willing to take.

The overlord's own magic flared to life, blue electricity filling the air. Your hands connected and the mist and sparks swirled around each other in a bright flash before dissipating entirely.

You slowly pull back, flexing your hand as you feel the sparks from his magic still tingling your skin. "So that's that," you hum.

"Indeed it is," The overlord murmured as he let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Our deal is sealed. There’s no going back now. You realize that, correct?"

"I know," you say softly as you accept the weight of knowing there was a good chance if you got caught, Alastor would broadcast your slow and gruesome murder on the radio for all of Hell to hear. "At least if shit goes south, you'll find out pretty quickly," you chuckle dryly, cringing at the thought.

There was a faint hint of a smirk that appeared on the overlord's face as he considered your words. "Well, if nothing else, you’ve earned my respect. You’re fully aware of what’s at stake, yet you agreed to the deal anyway. You are either insane... or extremely brave."

"Why not both?" You chuckle. You were putting your life at risk, and you had rejected his offer of riches and power, opting for the protection of a friend instead. To say your priorities were skewed would be an understatement to most sinners.

"The longer this little game of ours goes on, the more I want to pull you into the world of Hell’s politics," The overlord murmured with a smirk. "I’ve seen your video game work and I won’t deny it has potential, but I think you underestimate your potential for something more.”

You cringe, sticking your tongue out as if the very thought of it left a bad taste in your mouth. “Pass. I’ll leave the evil overlording to you and your stupid bow tie.”

“Fuck you, it’s classy,” Vox snickered as he shook his head. “Plus, how much room do you have to talk when I haven’t seen you wear proper clothing since we’ve met?”

“Fuck you,” you say playfully with a grin. “We’ve only met twice and both times you’ve shown up without warning to my home. Are you seriously telling me you lounge about in your time off in that getup?”

“Bold of you to assume I have time off,” Vox chuckled. “Now... it seems that we both have our parts to play in this deal. You’ll keep tabs on Alastor, and I’ll protect Angel Dust from Valentino when I have the opportunity to do so. I’m around often enough, but it may take a moment for me to get the hang of things. Do you have any other thoughts you wish to add before we part ways?"

You try not to show that you're disappointed in how quickly the meeting is ending. It was true that someone like Vox didn’t exactly have the time to spare to chat with you. It’s not like you were friends or anything. Just convenient dealmakers. But you’d be lying if you didn’t say you found your interactions to be fun despite the risk that came with them.

"How do you want me to get ahold of you if I learn anything about Alastor?" You ask.

Your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket and you jump with a startled yelp, spilling some of your drink on your shirt. Vox laughs as you grumble and lightly kick at his shin. When you pull out your phone, his face is mocking you from the screen.

“I have access to every device with a screen in all of Hell,” Vox smirked as you tried to swipe away his face to no avail. “I’ve put my number in your phone and yours is now in mine. I have access to anything on your device I want. Your notes, your texts, your camera, your microphone. I can see anything I want, whenever I want. It shouldn’t be too hard to get my attention.”

You huff, crossing your arms after you shove the phone back into your pocket. "Stalker."

The overlord's grin narrowed. "I prefer to think of it as surveillance. But if you prefer to think of it as stalking, it's up to you."

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a melodramatic sigh, "No more reading fanfiction on my phone in the shower for me."

The overlord couldn't help but laugh at your comment. "I wouldn’t necessarily complain.”

Your face feels like someone just set you on fire and Vox smirks as he mentally checks another point in his favor in the little game of back-and-forth between the two of you. It was extremely amusing for him to see how the occasional little comment here and there threw you off your game so easily. He was used to all sorts of depraved commentary from Valentino and Velvette’s sass was unmatched. Pulling reactions out of you so easily was delightfully entertaining.

Acting like he hadn’t just casually dropped such a comment, Vox switched back to a more businesslike demeanor as he added. “Just know that I will be checking in every now and then, regardless of how often I hear from you. You’ll have to start going to the hotel more as well and I’ll know where you are from now on too.”

Shaking off your embarrassment, you give a mock salute with two of your fingers as you make a note of the conditions of your deal, "Yes Sir, Mr. Stalker, Sir."

The overlord smirked slightly back at you before he chuckled. "Well, little drama queen, it looks like our business with one another has concluded. I’ll keep in touch."

----

It was a while before you finally had a substantial update for Vox. Neither of you were too surprised that it would take time before you could naturally find anything of use. Still, it left you feeling unsettled not having anything to offer. You didn’t want to risk Vox getting fed up with your lack of results and calling the deal off. Especially after the shit show that happened at Valentino’s studio when Charlie tried to get time off for Angel. But now you finally had something.

Charlie had been freaking out as the clock whittled down the time until the next extermination. So much so, that she had put aside her raging daddy issues long enough to invite her father to the hotel. When she asked if you’d come to the hotel to provide emotional support and help in case things went south, you happily agreed. You’d been coming by more often and as you suspected, you ended up growing even more attached to the hotel and the rag tag team keeping it together.

Every time you visited, you had to push down the dark, squirming guilt that behind every laugh, every smile, every mishap, was an ulterior motive. You were always watching Alastor out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for something, anything that could be of use to Vox that didn’t involve the hotel.

Between the chaos of Lucifer setting off something competitive in Alastor, the unexpected appearance of Mimzy, and the chaos that came with Charlie’s desperate attempts to prove her point to her dad, there was finally a crack in Alastor’s carefully composed disposition.

While everyone was preoccupied dealing with their own slice of the chaos, you ducked into one of the empty rooms and pulled out your phone. Vox hadn’t been kidding how easy it was to get ahold of him. All it took was a single text with nothing more than his name and the little bubbles that showed he was typing immediately let you know that you had his attention.

Vox: What is it? Did you discover something of note regarding Alastor?

Y/N: I did. It seems like he's under a contract with someone. I don't know who or what the details are, but I overheard him talking in the hall, and it sounds like someone else might own Alastor's soul.

The overlord's eyes narrowed as he read your text. The idea of someone having a contract with Alastor intrigued him, as it was the potential to have a certain level of control over the radio demon.

Vox: I see... and was there any indication as to who they were?

Y/N: He's too tight-lipped to let something like that slip. But honestly? My bets are on Lilith. She disappeared at the same time he did, and she’s of higher status.

Vox paused as he read the text and considered your words. Valentino and Velvette were bitching about something he hadn’t been paying attention to as he slipped out of the room and rolled the possibilities over in his mind. His heart was racing and he could feel the static sparks dancing across his skin. He finally had something.

The big unanswered question that had been haunting him for so long came with no hints, no arrows pointing him in a direction that could finally give him the answers he was owed. But now? Even if the information you’d given him was circumstantial, it was something. After seven fucking years of having nothing, there was finally a straw for him to grasp at.

Vox: I see where you are coming from. Lilith or someone of her caliber would have something of interest worthy of a deal. The real question is what could be worth a deal like that to Alastor? And what did he offer in exchange?

Vox: This is good. Like really fucking good. If you find out anything else, let me know.

You send him a little thumbs-up emoji before asking,

Y/n: Have you been protecting Angel Dust?

All Vox wanted to do was retreat to his surveillance room and get to work on digging up what he could with this new lead you’d given him. He was already marching his way through the penthouse shared between him and the other Vees as he typed.

Vox: It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve been ensuring that Angel Dust has received a very minimum level of abuse from Valentino. So, yes, I have been protecting his soul for you little drama queen. It is our deal, after all.

Y/N: Stop calling me that >:((((

Y/N: And thank you…

Vox barked out a laugh at your irritated response. He hadn’t realized he’d given you a nickname, but now that he knew it bothered you he would be sure to double down. He ignored Velvette asking him where he was off to in such a rush and simply waved off Valentino with promises of updating them later as he stepped onto the pad that’d take him down to his lair.

He was too glued to his phone to notice the look of bewilderment the Vee’s exchanged from where they sat on the couch. They’d only seen him so attached to his phone when he was in a foul mood from dealing with work shit. They’d never seen him with such a downright giddy grin like the one he was unknowingly wearing as he started a call on your phone without warning.

Not expecting the call, you jumped with a startled gasp as his face suddenly flooded your screen.

“Shit, fuck- motherfucker!” you swore under your breath as you grabbed at your phone in the air, trying not to drop it.

Vox laughed as you tumbled with the device and if you weren’t broke as hell, you would have considered chucking it out the window.

“Vox!” you hiss quietly as you step further into the empty hotel room and away from the door where anyone in the hall could hear you. “You can’t just hack into my phone and pop up without warning when I’m at the hotel! What if I wasn’t alone?”

“I tapped into the microphone and didn’t hear anyone else,” Vox rolled his eyes with a smug grin as he made his way to his surveillance setup. “I’m not that stupid, drama queen.”

You groaned, hating the corny nickname even more as you heard him say it out loud. “My point still stands, you shitty stalker.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” Vox chuckled as he sat in his dark office chair and swiveled around to start doing some research on his computer. “Now then, where exactly did you hear about this contract Alastor may have?”

"One of his old friends came to the hotel to escape some loan sharks,” you say slowly as you sit down on the bed. You take your time, trying to consider what you believed was safe to tell Vox without giving too much away. “I overheard someone telling him what to do regarding her, and it was brought up during the argument. They didn't know I was nearby."

Vox hummed as he started looking into the disappearance of Lilith and the events leading up to it. "Interesting... very interesting indeed. So Alastor may have made a deal with Lilith before they both went off the radar… If not her, then someone of similar status…”

You nodded and hummed along as he began to go down the rabbit hole of research and theories. The sound of Charlie and Lucifer having a heartfelt showtune moment down in the lobby softly reverberated through the walls of the hotel and you couldn’t help but smile as you listened to Vox’s excitement as he followed the lead.

Now if only you had noticed the shadow in the corner…

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #electric love series

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doodlemancy · 7 months

Text

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhh

so here's the deal re: this fucking horseshit. god i hate this.

i, personally, have mostly given up on trying to dodge inclusion in AI datasets. the stuff i make generally isn't what they're looking for anyway and there's no real way to 100% avoid being scraped short of becoming entirely invisible online, which would um, lead to me having no money and dying. that's part of the cruelty of all this, but also, in a way, it's the same risk artists online have always taken; if you want people to see your work, you have to post it knowing that some of those people are fucking lowlife piece of shit scumbags who will try to resell it on redbubble or something for a quick buck. AI is just a new and exhausting way for garbagey people to stink worse. i am not in any way excusing that behavior or trying to imply people should not be mad about it or that we shouldn't condemn this move and fight back. "if you don't want your work stolen, don't put it online" is the kind of shitty Internet Tough Guy talk i've always hated since my dA days. it's as useless and heartless as telling people that if they don't want their bikes stolen, they shouldn't leave them at the bike rack. i'm saying that i, personally, will not let a bunch of soulless thieving shitheads drive me offline. i belong here. they belong in a wifi-proof dumpster.

nightshade and glaze eat my artwork alive. they make it look terrible. when you have to sell things on the basis that they look nice, it's a big problem when protective measures make them look like dogshit. my work is not a good candidate for these processes. even if that weren't the case, i don't have the stamina, especially right now while my chronic pain is flaring for the third month in a row and my adhd meds are scarce, to go back and shade/glaze everything, and it wouldn't work on reblogs anyway. given the way midjourney and its equally stinky siblings have already scraped years and terabytes' worth of image data from popular websites, it doesn't seem worth my time. if you think it is worth yours i am not going to like, yell at you. i am just one person. but i want to be clear about the kind of situations some of us are being forced into.

i think some of the doomsaying about AI and what it will do to us has been overblown-- they need you, for marketing purposes, to believe that someday their shitty robot will be as good at "drawing" and as practical to work with as a human-- but the consequences of "AI" (which is not even actually AI) are already real and visible and obvious to anyone paying attention. i unfortunately am not infinitely wise and powerful and therefore do not have an ideal all-encompassing solution to this deeply stupid problem that the Most Unlikeable Manbabies On Earth have imposed on us after NFTs fizzled out.

what i do have is a very large repository of nice anime and game screenshots i've taken, knowledge of many archives of nice public domain images, a computer that can run nightshade overnight or while i'm off doing other things, and, most importantly, near-infinite capacity for pettiness. i do kinda feel like the jury is still out on how well nightshade/glaze will work in the long run, but in the meantime, i suppose it wouldn't cost me a lot to... perhaps... every time i get Mad About AI™, channel that anger into dumping some thoroughly-but-not-spammily-tagged, high-quality, inconspicuous poison onto this godforsaken hellsite via a secret side blog. i could make a batch of poison ahead of time, keep it on my phone, use my Toilet Scrolling Time or my Public Transit Time to post and tag up an image here and there. it could be a fun challenge to try to make some pretty robot poison that some humans will still enjoy.

the other thing we need to poison at this point, IMO, is the word "AI" itself, by being loudly and mercilessly critical of any company that dabbles in it, the same way we all clowned on any company that pushed their luck with NFT/crypto shit a couple of years ago. we need to have every corporation terrified that association with AI will tank their sales and hurt their brand. AI must = number go down and lots of people screaming at you. companies will fuck around. we must provide the finding-out. we shouldn't have to. but we can!

so make sure to let tumblr know you hate this. maybe you could include this interesting link (tw child abuse) about how Stable Diffusion was trained on some extremely serious crime. or these screenshots of Midjourney devs just sort of admitting what their whole thing is, which i got here but which have kinda been spread all over since January.

spite and anger can be forms of hope. that's all i have to say, or at least all i'm willing to type with my left hand tonight.

#long post #big long sigh

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honeesucker · 2 years

Text

One -

Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader

Word count: 3,331

Series Content Warnings: Little bit of a slow start... Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).

*Not proofread.

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Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t an undisciplined person in any way and anyone who had ever spent more than five minutes with the man would know it, back at UA his classmates knew it. His attitude and showmanship justifiable by his actions: hard work, determination to be the best at anything, unwavering confidence. So, it was no surprise that when he was presented with something that made him nervous, left him restless in bed having only gotten around five hours of solid sleep (unacceptable), that he dove head-first into internet research into hybrids, into the rescue facility itself – any reliable informative source Katsuki could get his hands on... he devoured all with a ravenous mind.

He learned that there is a largely biological difference between hybrids and those with an animal quirk. He learned that there are hybrids of different biological levels – some he learned were bred or trained to lean more into their animal natures, while others acted similarly to those with animal quirks (largely human with animal likeness or simple qualities) – the bigger difference being they were still highly susceptible to the whims of their animal DNA (i.e., still driven by instinct, still at the mercy of their biological clocks as present in their hybrid DNA in regard to migratory urges, mating patterns... things of a more engrained nature). He knew now that something he needed to consider was what would be best for him – a hybrid that, like TetsuTetsu was fiercely like his hybrid side but if you didn’t notice the ears and tail at first would just mistake him for a high-strung human, or one that while appearing mostly human would be more aligned with their animal side internally – Katsuki decided he’d wait and see what was suggested at the meeting he had set for later in the evening at the rescue facility. He read up on the efforts of the facility and was nothing less than impressed by their work to rescue, rehabilitate and facilitate safe adoption for their hybrids, but also all of their compiled free resources to learn more about anything one could think of in regards to hybrids, as well as offering in-person classes to be exposed further to important topics and nuances of hybrid life and ownership – classes, Katsuki noted, he would have to take before being chosen to take home a hybrid.

The rest of the morning was a blur of Katsuki half in, half out of consciousness due to his lack of sleep. He moved around the house way too fatigued but managed to make a simple stir-fry in the morning just to get something into his body, and later giving in to his needs and taking a two-hour nap before waking up to shower, and get ready for the first meeting at the rescue facility to get the process started... and though he held a lot of uncertainty he was also looking forward to something like this – something that might help him not feel so alone.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Katsuki was just half-watching a street food documentary series when he heard his phone ping! with a message notification.

3:37 P.M. [Shitty Hair] Hey dude! TetsuTetsu and I are on our way to pick you up... he wanted to come and see some of his friends.

3:39 P.M. [Blasty Boy] Whatever as long as the rockhead doesn’t drool on me.

3:45 P.M. [Shitty Hair] Awe are you wanting to make a good first impression Bakubro? So cute~

Katsuki slammed his phone down, a burning pink tinge to the tips of his ears as he grumbled to himself at the last message.

He just didn’t want to look dirty for the interview.

Another hour had passed before Kirishima finally texted that he was down in front of Katsuki’s building waiting for him, which prompted the blonde to thumb through the folder he had with all the requested documents, glancing at each page for the fifth time again before deciding he hadn’t forgotten anything. He threw on a well-worn leather jacket over his casual outfit and stepped into his boots, taking a final look behind him before stuffing his wallet into his pocket where his phone already sat, and heading out the door with a final click of the automatic door lock.

In the elevator his body felt like a can of compressed air thrown into a fire – ready to burst – but he just took in slow breaths (agency sanctioned therapy) and as he reached the lobby and made his way out, he walked toward the dark sportscar that awaited him, seeing the back window rolled halfway down with TetsuTetsu’s excited face glancing around at the few people on the street until he saw Katsuki.

“Hey, heeeey! Bakugo!” TetsuTetsu was shouting out the window at the man’s approach and Bakugo simply rolled his eyes at the annoying display. Opening the door and sliding into the front passenger seat just as TetsuTetsu was shouting another round of greetings out the window at him.

“Shut up ya damn brick head!” Bakugo growled out, “don’t you have a damn shred of self-control?”

“Plenty!” TetsuTetsu replied, sitting back against the seat with an excited bounce, nearly jumping out of his skin to see Bakugo... even if he just saw him last week.

“Tch,” Bakugo scowled, but Kirishima picked up on the slight quirk to the corner of his friend's lips as he pulled the seatbelt across his chest. “Dumbass acting like he hasn’t seen me in years.”

“Ready to go, dude?” Kirishima beamed at his friends who only answered with a quiet grunt. The drive to the facility was about 45 minutes from Katsuki’s apartment, and he took notice of how the further they drove the scenery changed so drastically for such a short distance. Larger skyscrapers and bustling paved streets giving way to more rural, residential areas until he saw the large facility come into view. Katsuki had been in this area before but never noticed the expansive property even one time. It was partially hidden behind rows of trees, and there was a long, looping driveway to reach the front of the facility.

“TetsuTetsu and I come here to volunteer a lot,” Kirishima finally broke the silence from the ride, “he likes to come and see some of his friends and socialize, and I help as an acting liaison since a lot of hero work does include rescuing hybrids either from disaster zones, or worse situations.”

“I never knew that,” Katsuki added, though he had his share of hybrid rescue situations, he never once contemplated where they went after they were taken away – he wondered if they all came to a safe place like what was before him. “Also never knew that you had so much damn free time on your hands to come play around with puppies and shit...” Katsuki walked past the doors as they parted automatically, Kirishima laughed, walking behind him with a shit-eating grin knowing his friends was playing his emotions off cooler than he was feeling. Knowing what he knew of his friend, he was more nervous than anything and that made Kirishima hopeful for Bakugo’s recovery. Whatever that future held, he was certain, as he watched his friend’s back while he walked toward the center desk where a staff member was waiting to greet them, that he wouldn’t be alone and everything would be okay.

Knowing Bakugo, he knew it wouldn’t be an easy process – but he could see the future becoming a brighter shade with each step.

“Ah, welcome back Red Riot!” The staff member beamed excitedly, “and welcome Mr. DynaMight!” She added, “and our little TetsuTetsu! Look how big you’ve gotten!” TetsuTetsu had a smile that took over his whole face as he puffed out his chest at the praise, allowing the woman to give a scratch at the top of his head between his tall ears.

“Alright Bakugo, you’re in good hands with Hina! TetsuTetsu and I are going to be in the common area, we’ll probably see you later once you’re given the tour. Text me if you need anything!” Kirishima was being dragged off by TetsuTetsu who was excitedly going on about who he wanted to see, his silver tail wagging so fast it blurred behind him. Hina got Bakugo’s attention, walking away to lead him toward the meeting room where he was going to be interviewed by the director, go over the paperwork and make copies of the documents he brought, thankful that this was all laid out in the call when he made the appointment – Bakugo liked to be as prepared as possible walking into new situations.

Hina had dismissed herself as she showed Bakugo where he could grab a snack or coffee, tea, water – she offered him everything even as he declined, certain anything that would go into him at this moment would come right back out. He was told the director was running a bit late but should be with him in about ten minutes. He was fine to have the room to himself to calm down, he could feel his palms slickening the more anxious he got and the last thing he wanted to do was blast the damn director with a handshake.

Maybe he did want that tea.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Across the facility in the common room Kirishima was crowded by his normal little friends, excitedly saying hello and telling him about their recent activities since his last visit. His eyes scanned for TetsuTetsu he noticed was frozen to the spot where in stood just in the doorway that led out to the garden. He followed the hybrid’s gaze to a small puppy hybrid curled up underneath a tree bathed in speckled sunlight. Kirishima watched as TetsuTetsu walked out into the garden with tentative steps and saw the puppy hybrid’s wide eyes shoot up toward him.

What a beautiful little creature.

He took in how small you were compared to most other hybrids he’s met so far (aside from the very smallest types), noting that you would definitely only come up to just under his chest, similarly compared to Bakugo a few inches higher on him at the center of his chest - maybe. Your ears were tall points atop your head, and the large, fluffy tail behind you started to give slow thumps as you watched TetsuTetsu approach. Kirishima observed his hybrid sit and pull you into his lap, rubbing his cheek atop your head and watching as your body shook a little, light catching a glistening on your cheek just before it was thumbed away. You shook your head, palming away the tears before giving a beaming smile up at TetsuTetsu whose tail was wagging wildly looking down at you, but Kirishima could see it.

The way the smile didn’t reach your eyes.

He spent more time with the hybrids gathered in the common room, always keeping an eye on his hybrid and the new little companion. Kirishima was soon being pulled multiple ways by hybrids and staff alike to help where it was needed getting lost in the bustle of what normally came with spending time at the hybrid facility – work. It was a brief moment when his eyes darted back out into the garden where he didn’t see you or TetsuTetsu that Kirishima’s whole body went cold with nerves before he settled himself, knowing that even if you both wandered the place you were in was safe. He just always felt better having eyes on TetsuTetsu since he brought him home. It was when he heard a familiar laugh that he noticed you both sitting in front of a T.V. watching Pro Hero fights, TetsuTetsu exclaiming loudly at each incredible move, and you curled up into TetsuTetsu’s lap looking so contented just to share space with someone. Kirishima decided to walk over and introduce himself, but with the way he noticed your eyes always darting around, watching the way your body jumped – just slightly – at each louder than normal noise... he knew he had to approach you carefully than most.

“Hey buddy,” Kirishima called out, lowering his normal boisterous tone to a gentler level, “what’cha watching?”

“Ah Eijiro! Look, look, look!” TetsuTetsu almost threw you out of his lap if he didn’t have an arm hooked around your body holding you to him. “It’s an old Fourth Kind fight!” TetsuTetsu’s tail was whipping behind him with a furious thump seeing the fight. You were leant against his chest with your cheek squished by his shoulder as your eyes studied the huge red-headed Pro standing nearby. Kirishima gave you a bright smile but noticed the way your eyes widened, he wondered if it was the sharp teeth or just being noticed by someone new, he kept his eyes on you with a kind expression on his face as he got TetsuTetsu’s attention back, “Hey bud – who’s your little friend?”

“Ah!” TetsuTetsu tightened his grip on you as he turned his body slightly to show more of you. “This is Tiny!” Kirishima knelt down on the floor, squatting with his butt against his legs to be less of an impending sight to you.

“Tiny huh? Is that really your name?” Kirishima kept the smile on his face, kept his tone gentle and noticed the way you shook your head slowly, but then shrugged – TetsuTetsu popping back into the conversation with a quick, “I call her Tiny because she is! Also, because she said she didn’t have one...” TetsuTetsu trailed off, attention being piqued again by the Pro Hero fight on the T.V. but Kirishima and you were having a staring contest, your ears and cheeks dusted a light pink as you rested your chin on TetsuTetsu’s shoulder.

“If it’s okay to ask,” Kirishima wanted to grab you from his hybrid and curl you up in his arms himself with how cute you looked at the moment, but knew he had to swallow down those feelings. “You don’t have a name?”

“Mm,” you shrugged, “not one I care to have.”

“Have you ever thought about choosing one for yourself?” Kirishima tested the waters, and it seemed you relaxed more around him now than when he first walked over, but you still stole tentative glances at TetsuTetsu for reassurance.

You slowly shook your head, “not really – not if everyone is gonna call me something different anyway.”

The way you said that made Kirishima’s blood turn, but he didn’t let it affect his interaction with you, opting to keep the smile and calm demeanor going, “What do you like to be called most?” Kirishima saw you falter for a moment, probably never having been asked that question before.

“I like when Tetsu calls me Tiny,” the warm smile lit up your face so beautifully, “and almost everyone else I know just calls me Puppy because... I’m a puppy, or really lots of other names too...” your voice got softer a trailed off at the end. Kirishima could see something brewing behind your eyes but didn’t push it further as you rubbed behind your neck a little nervously.

“Is it okay for me to call you eith-” Kirishima could get his full sentence out before you just grinned widely and nodded your head.

“M’okay with anything if it isn’t mean,” you say softly, and Kirishima thinks his heart is going to explode.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Across the facility at the tail end of the interview Bakugo thought his heard was going to explode just the same.

“Well, Mr. Bakugo I’m thoroughly impressed with how you’ve answered my questions, and asked your own,” the facility director was thumbing through her own notes and the documents Bakugo had brought with him ensuring all was in order. “I’ve never had an adoption prospect be as informed and prepared as you’ve made yourself which is wholly impressive and says so much about how you’d go into owning a hybrid – truly impressed,” the woman was nodding and repeating herself but Bakugo wasn’t hearing a definitive yes to moving forward so he kept waiting with bated breath. “I’d like to take you for a tour of our facility and tell you more about our efforts, and what you can expect moving forward in this program, and we can meet some of the hybrids who are probably out wandering in the common room at this time as well.” Bakugo simply nodded in a daze, heart rate starting to slow back to a normal pace as he started to collect himself, following the director out of the meeting room and into a long stretch of hallway as she went on about the facilities history and all of what they offer for the hybrids in their care – all information Bakugo had read up on but hearing it as he toured the grounds was still enlightening.

Upon reaching a more open area that the director called the common room he took in the mild bustle of the room, hybrids of all types wandering, lounging and laughing with each other and staff alike.

“So, this is our common area where a lot of the hybrids who are suited for group environments come to socialize and spend their time,” the director drew Bakugo’s attention to the gorgeous garden they had, as well as a small food garden run by some of the facilities bunny hybrids who also helped out in the kitchen – they were a little skittish but super still super kind to show Bakugo around their garden. He also met a few wolf hybrids like TetsuTetsu, a cougar, two cats and a koi fish hybrid lounging in a large, open clearwater pond on the far end of the garden but what really caught Bakugo’s attention was on the other side of the garden in a separate part of the common room – more hybrids were lounging around at tables, but in front of a T.V. where old Pro Hero fight tapes were playing he saw Kirishima’s too large body sunk into a bean bag chair with TetsuTetsu curled up against his side, with a smaller form squished between them, mostly on Kirishima’s chest, nuzzled into his neck.

“Oh - that’s a sight that makes me happy,” the director sighed, sharing the same sight Bakugo was taking in. “That’s our newest hybrid, though she originally came to us just a short while before TetsuTetsu did she was also adopted out shortly after Mr. Kirishima took our TetsuTetsu in, but she’s had a hard time being placed with the right person – she's been surrendered back to us three time in the last year – she's had a rough go of it but always ends up seeking out the right people it seems.” Bakugo was drawn in to the three sleeping forms, walking closer until he was just a foot or so away. TetsuTetsu was snuggled into Kirishima’s side, mouth hanging open with the drool of a deep sleep. Kirishima was snoring lightly and had a hand brought up to wrap around the smaller form laying atop him. When his eyes laid on you, a little puppy hybrid with soft ears, tall, little triangles even as you slept, a big fluffy tail and an unnerving amount of old healed scars on the exposed skin he could see. Your face looked so peaceful, lashes shadowing on your cheeks, eyebrows drawn together in your sleep as if your dream bothered you, even a little kick of your leg across Kirishima’s stomach as you shifted in your sleep.

Something in Bakugo reached out from inside of him, his mind or his heart he couldn’t tell the difference – all he knew was that this feeling was one he couldn’t easily shake. He didn’t know if it was because you just looked like you needed protecting, or because the director said you were returned three times and he’s never turned down a challenge, but Bakugo now had his mark set on you – you are who he wanted to know more about, to bring home and keep safe, and he would jump through any hoops to make that happen.

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