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#truly though such an amazing cast
inawickedlittletown · 2 years
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Re-listening to Bridgewater before the S2 premiere on Friday and ahhhh why is this podcast so good. I think it’s even better listening to S1 for the second time because having all the reveals and twists in the back in your mind make you notice all the little details that were there all along. 
For anyone that hasn’t listened to it yet, hard recommend and not just because you get to hear Misha Collins curse a lot. 
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averlym · 1 year
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some very very quick costume shorthands!
#&juliet#had the absolute luck of watching this live the other night and it was. truly amazing!!! aaah#rough character designs for the younger leads (excluding like the Grown adult duos..) because?? idk#this is how it always starts. once the character designs start getting simplified like this that's when it all begins#which is hmmm timing but i really can't shut up about this musical it was so so fun. absolute vibes and energy#made me laugh and cry and was such an Experience. i adore them all but may specifically made me sob at some parts dfjkldfh#lots of thoughts! but one of the favs is how they wrote it so the existing songs and actions fit so well.#like in a rhyming bit they had frankie accept a drink and then the song was like ''drink in hand'' and i was all !!!!!!#also maybe it's local censorship? but there wasn't the kisses.. they replaced it w kissing hands and then holding hands#which is like a cute nod to the ''hand to hand holy palmers kiss' or smth but also maybe two guys doing that would not have made it past :/#oh my god i. the way rnj parallels the shakespeare duo... whdskjfhgh. may + not being a Girl kdjhgf. frankie and may. aaagh.#angelique being so so badass. i . the speech about Gender by anne and the Proposal by angelique both made the whole theatre cheer love that#also rotating stage lives in my mind rent free i ADORE the set holy moly.. also also the actors were so good. also the Projections.#also the music and costumes and special effects and aerial moments. and the ensemble. and the choreo#also the cast is so talented. and pretty. and the whole confidence part vs the vulnerability of some bits... whshjfgjkl. hhh#im just listing stuff now but it was so vibes. what an experience ever. it's also shot me directly into 14-years-old again so#spent the morning alone vibing to the soundtrack intensely... i just... sometimes things hold special places in your heart idk!!!#i don't know what to do with these designs though... like the show is such a lovely Spectacle but also idk where to branch out by myself no#there's so much to Absorb again and again. i get the feeling any true work from this i would do in a form of an animatic though.. oops#tldr? 1. &juliet very good just as itself 2. we have History 3. i got to see it live which always propels me into bonkers over musicals!#so so rough but i needed to get smth out and . whatever. an art blog is an art blog. back to hiatus now i think#<reminder to myself: this is essentially an artchive.. there's no quality control if you don't want it! have fun!! ily>
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princessbellecerise · 3 months
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Morning Desires
Summary ✩ The beauty of Targaryen men is often said to be irresistible, and Jacaerys is no exception. After waking up early one morning, you find that you cannot, in fact, resist your gorgeous husband
Warnings ✩ Morning sex, smut, slight somnophilia, creampie, husband!Jace, blowjob, 18+
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The sun was shining brightly when you woke up that morning, soft golden light pouring in through the windows and casting an almost ethereal glow over you and your husband.
When you opened your eyes, you were amazed to see how beautiful he looked sleeping so peacefully next to you. The morning sun shined down on him, making him look like one of those ancient Valerian gods that he spent so much time studying.
His brown hair was swept across his face, his pink lips parted. Soft snores could be heard falling from his lips and you giggled as he mumbled in his sleep.
Truly, you did not think you had ever seen a more gorgeous sight. It was rare that you got see Jacaerys so relaxed, so carefree. He usually spent his days and nights stressed about whatever the state the realm was in. Seeing him at peace was a sight that you drunk in greedily, brushing some of his curls from his face before sighing.
You did not wish to wake him, but an idea suddenly formed in your head and it left your core aching with desire.
It had been two weeks since you and Jacaerys had been intimate, and the feeling of his manhood pressed against your thigh, hard as a rock, reminded you just how much you missed your husband.
Before this stupid conflict in the Riverlands had broken out, Jace used to take you every night that he could. You would spend hours wrapped in each other’s embrace, soft words and gentle touches exchanged. You missed the feel of your husband. Now that he had been coming to bed so late, he was usually too exhausted for any activity other than sleep.
Today was actually one of the rare days that you had even woken up in the same bed as him, and though you felt terrible about it, the urge to feel him inside of you again was just too great to resist.
Lust had its grip on you this morning and you were not strong enough to deny it. Especially not when Jacaerys looked so delicious beside you.
You’d apologize later for disturbing his sleep, but right now, you needed your husband.
Gently, you positioned yourself so that you leaned over him, peppering soft kisses along his jaw and using a hand to trail up his thigh.
Jacaerys in his sleep shivered as you found one of his weak spots, sucking at the delicate skin and making sure to leave a mark. Redness spread over the several spots that your lips visited, licking and biting as you pleased while Jacaerys squirmed underneath you.
He still had not woken up, but his body was so used to your touch that he was involuntarily reacting to it. Several times did his hips buck into thin air, his cock growing harder the lower you kissed and the higher your hand went.
You smiled softly to yourself as he began to moan in his sleep, obviously feeling the way your lips had attached themselves to his chest.
You teased him by taking one of his nipples into your mouth, biting it like he does to you. For a few seconds, you sucked on it, leaving a love bite on his chest before moving on.
By the time you found yourself kissing his stomach, Jacaerys finally began to stir beneath you. His eyes fluttered open as you traced your tongue just above his hips, holding them down as your hand grasped his manhood.
He groaned, obviously awake now, and the sound prompted you to look up at him just as your lips found his cock.
You smiled deviously at your husband as he looked down at you with wide eyes, having the pleasure of seeing his pretty face just before you took him into your mouth.
“Fuck!”
Immediately, Jace’s hand reached down to tangle itself in your hair. Wasting no time, your husband guided you down on him, losing his breath as you managed to take his entire length.
You had done this many times before, so it was easy to open your throat, breathing through your nose so you wouldn’t choke. Using your spit, you eased your lips up and down his cock, your cheeks hallowing to give him more pleasure.
You were careful not to go too fast, but just enough to have him at your mercy. Jacaerys moaned and whispered sweet praises as you sucked his cock; ones that had your core throbbing with desire. A familiar wetness pooled between your thighs, your arousal burning hotter and hotter.
The sounds that your husband started to make only fueled your desperation further, and they indicated that he was almost near his peak. You did not want him to come; not yet since you still ached with the desire to satisfy your own needs. So, before he could reach his release and end your morning fun, you quickly pulled away and straddled him.
A desperate whine left Jace’s throat at the sudden loss of pleasure, but it was quickly replaced by a broken moan when you sank yourself onto his cock.
Together, you nearly collapsed at the feeling of being connected again. After two weeks, your cunt had desperately missed him and you could tell that Jacaerys felt the same.
Tenderly, he held onto your hips and threw his head back as you rode him. The morning light continued to shine down on him, bathing him in rich, golden light. It highlighted the sweat that had began to coat his face, his eyes looking like pools of honey as he kept your gaze.
Softly, Jacaerys pulled you down to meet his lips, capturing you in a passionate, fiery kiss.
Your moans were swallowed by his mouth as your tongues met, tasting the sweetness of one another and relishing in it.
As his cock slid in and out of your cunt, you felt a familiar pinch in your core that had you clenching around him. Jacaerys groaned as you began to bounce faster on his cock, releasing your lips so that he could watch you come undone. He held your hips steady and guided you into a pace that satisfied you both, your bodies so intertwined to the point where your release matched his.
Under a spell of desire, sleep, and desperation, your husband let out a groan as he shuddered underneath you. The last threads holding back his peak snapped, and you could feel his seed coating your walls as he let go.
Likewise, Jacaerys could feel your legs shaking as you clenched down on him and moaned. After so long, your release washed over you and clouded your senses, the pleasure almost as blinding as the light. To Jacaerys, it accentuated your features, making you look like a goddess as you came.
With your lips parted and your head thrown back in ecstasy, you looked like the absolute epitome of beauty. The kind of beauty that women envied and men worshiped.
Jacaerys swore that there was never a man as lucky as he was in that moment, staring at you with love and adoration as you collapsed next to him.
For a few moments, neither of you said anything. As the sun rose around you, lighting the room with a soft yellow glow, you took a minute to admire each other. It had been quite some time since you’d gotten a proper look at your husband, but honestly he was just as breathtaking as you remembered him.
“Sȳz tubis, issa jorrāelagon,” You told him softly, practicing the High Valyrian you had been studying.
Jace often teased you that your pronunciation sounded just as bad as his once had. Before he had become King, he had the hardest time memorizing what the letters sounded like. Apparently, your Valyrian wasn’t as good as you thought it was but there was no teasing from him this morning.
No jests. Jacaerys only wore a proud smile on his lips as he stroked your cheek, leaning in to plant a kiss on your soft skin before chuckling.
“Well, good morning to you too, my love.”
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perlelune · 4 months
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Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | ii.
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The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking,
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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You let your fingers wander over the edge of the car window, a big smile spread across your face. The gentle breeze flutters across your skin and birdsong fills your ears. You bask in the warmth of the sun and the comfortable feeling sitting inside your chest. The morning was spent visiting the university you’ll be joining in the coming fall. You were given a tour of campus and all the historical buildings you’ll get to wander through soon. It filled you with anticipation, getting that brief glimpse into college life. You’ve been in Outer Banks your whole life and while it’s pretty much a paradise, you’re looking forward to experiencing something new and exciting.
Dad insisted on driving you since you don’t have your license yet. The two of you constantly got wrapped in animated chatter on the way to and from campus. While it’s hard for Ward to watch one of his baby birds leave the nest, you appreciate how supportive he’s been overall. After long hours coaxing him with Mom of course. Dad was skeptical at first. He even suggested you take a gap year to mull it over, like Sarah did. But you and Sarah are like the sun and moon. She’d be the sun of course. While your big sister is content running off with the Pogues on wild adventures and setting aside college for now, you can’t picture yourself doing that. You’re a Cameron, but you’re not Sarah Cameron. With her sweet disposition and golden mane, your sister could probably get away with murder by batting her lashes and flashing her signature sunny grin. Things are different for you. Very different. You haven’t forgotten where you come from, much as everyone in the family pretends you’re just as quintessentially Kook as the rest of them. 
Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you pivot to Ward.
“Thanks for driving me, dad.”
He beams, his blue gaze drifting away from the road as it lands on you.
“No problem, sweetheart. It’s an amazing school. Great program. Campus looks good too. I know you’ll fit right in.”
A wave of warmth blows through you. “Thanks.”
Sighing, you turn to the epitome of gloom and petulance in the backseat. His arms are folded over his broad chest, his irate blue eyes glued to the window. Your brother’s been cranky all morning. Any trivial inquiry or mundane remark set him off. He barely uttered a word to Dad and graced you with nothing but stubborn silence. It’s blatant he isn’t handling the prospect of your imminent absence well. The silence concerns you a little though. Rafe isn’t one to chew his words or swallow them. So whatever resentment he harbors about your decision to go away for college must run deep. It casts a veil of despondency upon an otherwise wonderful day. 
Of all people, you’d expect your big brother to support you the most. 
His sour-faced demeanor never relents, even when Ward stops the car in front of Tannyhill. Dad sighs as he parks the truck. He’s already lectured Rafe twice on the way back. You note the disappointment etched on his face, the way he squares his shoulders and readies him to march towards his son and lash out at him again. You put your hand on his shoulder and shake your head. The last thing you need is your brother and father at each other’s throat again. It’d be nice to linger in the exhilaration the campus left you with a little longer. 
“It’s fine, dad. Let me talk to him,” your say. 
Dad’s shoulders sag. He yields, heading inside the house and leaving you with Rafe. You lean next to him on the truck, head tilted in concern. 
“Hey…You haven’t said a word since we came back. What did you think?” 
When he fails to reply, his face taut, your frustration swells. “You’re the one who insisted on coming.”
It’s when he snaps, the vein in his forehead pulsing. He swivels to you. 
“I just don’t understand why you have to go to a school so far from us, y’know? A five hour drive, really?”
Your brows crumple to a frown.
“Rafe…”
He cuts you off with a mirthless laugh, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. “And the way you kept gushing about college parties and college boys…” His jaw ticks. “I just don’t like it.” 
Rafe pauses, licking his lips and humming as if lost in the depths of reflection. “I think…”
When he trails off, you urge him to go on, impatience clear in your tone, “What do you think?”
He shrugs before casually stating, “I think you’re gonna land yourself into trouble like the airhead that you are and come crawling back home.”
Your face comes ablaze at his words. You punch his shoulders as tears rush to your eyes.
“You can be such a jerk sometimes.”
You stomp away from him, ire radiating from you in waves. He catches up to you with ease. An apology creeps on his face, his fingers clasping around your arm.
“Wait, princess.” 
He impedes your path, forcing you to halt in your tracks. He puts a hand on his chest, his expression earnest. 
“Look I’m just trying to look out for my little sister here, okay?” A hint of sadness seeps through his tone. “I thought you at least appreciated that.”
Your shoulders slump. 
“I do, Rafe, but…I’ll be gone soon. I need you to accept it.”
“I just think it’s too soon.”
“Rafe, I’ll visit. So often that you guys will get sick of me,” you say, your tone reassuring.
The suggestion does little to assuage him, his eyes rolling in annoyance. 
“You could take a gap year like Dad said. It wouldn’t be a big deal. You’re a Cameron.”
You nibble your bottom lip. You’re keenly aware Rafe will abhor the words bubbling in your throat before they even leave your mouth.
“Well, not exactly...”
He snickers. “It’s those Pogues…they got in your head, didn’t they?”
Your brows furrow. In your brother’s eyes, everything’s always a Pogues’ fault. He’s never been too fond of the fact that you still hang out on that side of the island sometimes. The phrase ‘You’re a Kook now princess, act like it.’ has left his mouth a numberless amount of times in the past seven years whenever he found you drifting a little too far from the family.
“What? It’s got nothing to do with my friends, Rafe,” you retaliate. 
Your gazes clash, a silent war of unwavering wills as your brother looms over you. He works his jaw and unleashes a long exhale. 
“So you’re just gonna leave us? It’s final?”
Reluctance drips from your clipped tone. “Yeah, it’s final.”
“I see.”
He gives a sluggish nod of acknowledgement before rushing inside the house.
You trail behind him, panic fluttering through your chest.
“Rafe…”
His back remains turned. Your stomach sinks, his staunch ignorance driving a blade through your heart. The last thing you want is to be away from Rafe, away from your family. But college matters to you. Why can’t he see that? 
Mom stands by the counter, dumbfounded by Rafe’s furious stride up the stairs. 
“What’s gotten into him?”
A deep sigh ripples through your lips as you meet Mom’s concerned stare. “You know Rafe…”
You turn to her.
“You wanted to talk to me, mom?”
She beams at you. You straighten your spine. 
Mom texted you on the way back. She mentioned Sarah would be here too, causing your suspicions to hit a peak.
Nearly every talk with Mom devolved into a firm reminder to behave in a manner befitting a Cameron, befitting Ward Cameron’s daughter. Your mother’s foot never eased off your neck in the last few years. 
Nothing besides perfection is allowed.
Perfect grades. Perfect smile. Perfect behavior. Not a single blight or misstep shall ruin the blended nuclear family image Mom and Ward strive to project. Dad might be more subtle about it, but you know his expectations of you align with Mom’s. 
Whenever Sarah slackens, the burden passes on to you. You’re supposed to set an example for Willa and Wheezie to follow.
Mom glances between you and Sarah, the latter already sitting on a stool by the counter. It’s clear your sister would rather be anywhere but here. Likely hanging out with John B or some other fun thing. “To both of you, actually.”
You and Sarah exchange a look, one you have countless times before. The quiet acceptance that you’re both about to be lectured by Alice Cameron.
Resigned, you plop down in the stool next to Sarah’s. 
Excitement oozes off Mom’s voice as she starts speaking. 
“You remember when I told you about the Calliopean Society Debutante Ball?”
Sarah’s lips twitch as she tamps down a grin. “You mean the one you’ve been massively subtle about?”
It’s true. For months, Mom has dropped heavy hints regarding her desire to see both you and Sarah become debs. Even amongst Kooks, being picked to represent the institution is seen as the highest honor. Only a handful of young women from prestigious families in North Carolina are picked, ones whose families have made significant contributions to the county. 
A series of events antecedes the ball, including but not limited to Midsummers, a variety of tea parties and galas. The whole thing is archaic at best and cringeworthy at worst. 
You’ve tried to get Mom to relinquish the idea of you joining it. But she’s been relentless. The symbol of status it epitomizes isn’t something she’ll let go off so easily. 
Not when she’s tried to make everyone on Figure Eight forget where she comes from. Mom would do anything to bury any hint of her past as a Pogue.
You bump Sarah’s elbow, berating her with a frown, “Sarah.”
She chuckles and stands a bit straighter. 
Mom sighs at her antics, her forehead creasing.
“Girls. I need you to focus.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Sorry, Alice,” Sarah echoes.
Mom marks a dramatic pause, causing dread to tickle your insides. If she’s this excited, it’s almost a given that you won’t be.
Indeed, her next words confirm your inkling.
“Well, I managed to slip in both of your names in the short list while attending the Midsummer’s committee,” she says.
You wince. “Mom…why would you do that?”
Her elation doesn’t waver. “They’ve never had a young woman like you in their ranks and they’re trying to be more open-minded this year.”
“Mom, this is old-fashioned and gross. The girls are presented like broodmares to be sold.”
Her brows knit. “That is not what this is. Being chosen is an honor.”
Sarah rolls her eyes and you purse your lips. Mom squints at you, folding her arms.
“I want you two to participate in all the events leading up to it.”
Sarah blinks in disbelief. “Come again?”
“Isn’t Midsummer enough?” you refute. 
It’s bad enough you’re not given much of a choice in attending the stuffy event. The fact that Mom wants you and Sarah to take it one step further is wild.
“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place, sweetie?” she laments, looking straight at you. “It’ll be an opportunity to bond with young ladies your age.”
This doesn’t stir you. You doubt you have much in common with the kind of girls picked out as debutantes. This was probably the same crowd you’ve exerted great effort in avoiding at the Kook school. 
“Kie will be there too, but only if you go,” you specify.
This catches your interest, mostly because of how absurd that statement is. You’re pretty sure Kie would likely chop off an arm before agreeing to be a debutante, even if you did it too.
Sarah’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“Kie? No way, you’re making this up.”
A mischievous smile unfurls on Mom’s lips.
“Well, it wasn’t easy to get her to agree but her father threatened to stop paying for her unlimited data plan.”
Oh so it’s like that? Kie’s parents resorted to blackmail. Makes sense. You just can’t picture your rebellious friend agreeing to this without an incentive. You surmise threatening to cut off her only means of constant communication with the Pogues might sway her mind a bit. 
“Yeah that…tracks.”
“Can you do it, please?”
Your shoulders sag. “Mom, I really wished you stopped trying to impress those women. You do realize they’ll always look at us the same way, no matter what we do.”
Mom’s face dims at your words. An instant wave of guilt fills you. You should have kept your mouth shut. She tosses her hands in the air.
“Fine. I never ask you girls for anything, but okay.” She starts frantically cleaning the kitchen, loud clangs echoing as she grabs random pots and pans from the oven and cabinets. “When I was your age…” You suppress an eye roll. Here we go. You and Sarah trade a knowing glance. Anytime she starts a sentence that way, you know you’re doomed. “I’d have killed to get an opportunity like this...” 
Mom continues rambling about how privileged and spoiled you and Sarah are, how she was never given those kinds of chances. She mentions her rough upbringing and hammers in the sacrifices she made to raise you. She reminds Sarah all the times she showed up for her and that she loves her the same way a mother would. You spot the exact moment your sister breaks. By the end, the guilt both Sarah and you feel is palpable, its weight clogging the air. 
“Ugh…Fine, we’ll do it,” Sarah relents.
Mom’s sour face immediately shifts to a triumphant expression.
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As the evening rolls around, the sky shifting to duskier hues, an unexpected presence slips through your bedroom door. 
You sit up, your pink headphones tumbling down to your neck. 
“Rafe!” you exclaim, eyes widening in astonishment.
A lopsided smirk unfolds on his face at your reaction. He slowly closes the door and strolls to your bed. The mattress bounces when Rafe tosses himself on it. He drags his fingers along your sheets for a while, the golden family ring on his finger glimmering dully. You wait anxiously with your legs crossed.
After what seems an eternity, blue eyes swing upward as he sighs.
“I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier,” he blurts out. He licks his lips and holds your gaze, his fingers wandering to your knee. Rafe’s deep voice lowers, oozing sadness. “I just know everyone in this house will drive me crazy if you’re not there.”
“There’s always Sarah.”
That draws a burst of laughter from him. He shakes his head.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”
Your face breaks out in a grin. Throughout the years, it’s always staggered you how different the dynamic between you and Rafe is different from his relationship with Sarah. Everything’s a competition for Rafe when it comes to Sarah, starting with the ceaseless quest for Dad’s approval. Meanwhile, since that day at the wedding, Rafe has never failed to be there for you. He’s been the best big brother, attentive and kind. While on the exterior he could be a jackass to everyone, including your Pogue friends, he’s never been that way with you. You could talk to him about your problems, however trivial they may be. He’s the one who made you feel most welcome at Tannyhill, impugning every presumption you harbored about what having Rafe Cameron as your brother would be like. And now you can’t picture your life without Rafe in it. 
“It’ll be fine. We’ll text. I’ll call you every week.”
“Won’t be the same.”
You take a deep breath.
“For the record, I’ll miss you too. A lot.”
“You better.”
You chuckle.
“Hey, I never gave you your birthday gift…” Rafe says, fishing for something in his back pocket. A sly smirk tugs his lips. “I wanted to do something a little different this year.” You’re filled with shock when he produces a little bag full of white powder. 
You blink rapidly as he holds it up. You’ve seen him take some at parties, sell it to his guests. Once or twice, you got curious and asked to try. He vehemently turned you down, insisting he’s not about to let his little sister get fucked up…despite spending the whole night getting fucked up himself.
“Really?”
Rafe’s smirk broadens. “Really.”
Excitement flushes through you. You can’t deny you’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.
“You like…never let me try before.”
He laughs, shifting closer to you. 
“Because I was trying to keep my sweet little sister pure. Can you blame me, princess?” he says, fingertips tracing your knee. 
You swallow thickly, your face heating when he places the little pouch in your hand.
“I actually have no idea how to…”
“I’ll show you, of course. It’s my job as your big brother to teach you everything.” His voice dips to a velvety bass as your eyes lock. “So let me pop your cherry, princess.”
When you stare at him, slack-jawed, Rafe snorts. 
“It’s just a phrase, relax.”
Amusement dances in his blue eyes at your clueless expression. He grabs a paper from his pocket and begins rolling it. 
“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He gently swipes the pouch and takes your hand, opening your palm to pour just a tiny amount of the white powder in the middle. “Let’s just keep this a secret between us, okay?” His eyes twinkle. “I don’t want Alice to think I’m… corrupting you or something.”
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rockingbytheseaside · 4 months
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I just read 'a boy named heretic' and it was really great cuz I can see little zandik being obsessed of his favourite researchers. And Imagine after creating his segments, little segments being so obsessed with you that they start their days with reading your researchs or treating your researchs like a religious book maybe even the older segments still do that. they would have memorised everything by now and that would be so funny like little segments make a mistake when they are talking about your researchs and older ones go like 'no no it goes like this and this' I can definitely see that happening.
Thank you for reading my brainrot over your fic and even though i just discovered you I love your writing style and your art is amazing so thank you for blessing us
Thank you so much! I try to write fics and tropes because I also struggle with Harbinger brainrot. Sometimes I draw and sometimes I gotta write. So I hope I won't disappoint with this one (。•́︿•̀。)
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✦ You learn that Dottore taught his little segment about your old research too
(tw: none, pure fluff)
In the days of old, a young boy named Zandik was infatuated by you.
You were there, in the photos of the Akademiya’s best, A brilliant alumna. Meanwhile, he was still a mere student, looking up at you with eager ruby eyes. The distance between you two, not just in seniority, but in intellect and knowledge looked like an insurmountable ocean for little Zandik. 
He read all your published works, theses, or even miscellaneous essays. You were one of the few who dared to explore risque topics, often researching the fallen technology of your homeland, Khaenri’ah. Your works became his mantra, as the young trainee Dastur frequently stayed at night reading and memorizing your written words. 
How he longed to stand by your side. To bask in the glow of your wisdom, and hopefully, one day stand beside you in these photos of The Akademiya’s best. The thought of being your equal on that wall is a fantasy that once consumed him during many sleepless nights. 
But alas, his name was not in the records beside you. Instead, it was in the records of exiled students. 
The expulsion was a bitter pill to swallow for Zandik, yet it became a blessing in disguise. It allowed him to break free from the constraints of the Akademiya and truly delve into the depths of his research; to walk where you walked. With this liberating and newfound freedom, The Fatui heightened his abilities. They provided him with the resources and tools, and in return, he shared the fruits of his labor with them. But the Fatui were not the focus of his pursuits - you were. 
The little boy who once admired you from afar is no more. Now, a Fatui Harbinger stood before you, a man who has grown and shaped himself in your shadow. So here you were, in Dottore’s lab quietly musing. That was the story of your unceremonious reunion with The Doctor, whom you didn’t even know was after you. However, you didn’t mind it. You even met one of his many segments. 
What you didn’t expect is… a little child in his lab. 
A boy, looking awfully similar to little Zandik, no older than 8 years old. He gawked back at you, with his ruby-red eyes and you felt a sense of deja vu. You kneeled in front of him, catching a glimpse of a book in the child’s arms: 
“Um, hello, little one. What is that book you’re reading?”
The child cast his gaze to the floor timidly, revealing the worn-out book he was concealing behind his back. He held it tightly with his little hands, speaking in a small but avid voice:
“It’s your work… Your name is right here!” 
You blinked in surprise. It indeed had your name on it. The title was one of your research papers that you honestly forgot about. But what was even more surprising is why would an 8-year-old child read some old academic papers. 
“Oh, it is? But isn’t it a little… boring or difficult for you to read?” 
“No, I love it! I can even recite it if you want!” 
When Prime Dottore entered and spotted you talking to the eager younger clone he smirked. It seems you finally met his youngest segment, and your bafflement was expected. 
Dottore assured you that his segments, especially the younger Zandik, cannot contain their excitement at the mere mention of your name. They speak of you with a reverence that borders on idolatry, and they often ask Dottore about any copies of your published studies. 
It seems even the segments have inherited his admiration for you.
And the youngest segment, the 8-year-old child? They are absolutely enamored with your work. Every day, they ask about you and patiently anticipate any new information about your next visit to the lab. They even have a small collection of your books on their shelf, reading them diligently and trying to understand the complexity of your ideas. It was a bewildering sight, but the youngest segment enjoyed your academic essays as his bedtime stories.
“Dottore, listen. Did you make this boy memorize my thesis instead of reading fairy tales or something? Isn’t this a little… complicated for a child?” - you asked, picking up the little segment into your arms. 
“Nonsense my dear. Instead of fairy tales and nursery rhymes, a prodigy must start early by instilling a desire for knowledge. You can test it for yourself.” - Dottore explained, turning to the young child - “Recite the passage about energy infusion, paragraph 2.” 
“Okay! Ahem… ‘In the realm of Khaenri'ahn technology, we find a profound example of the interconnectedness between opposites. The use of advanced energy systems combines the power of light and electricity and as according to the data numbers of…”
Oh boy. These are big words for an 8-year-old. You don’t even remember the exact words of your 400-year-old thesis; that thing is ancient! You didn’t have the heart to tell them both that this thesis was written during an all-nighter rush. You did not feel nostalgic remembering your stress over deadlines. 
“Little one?” - You smiled at the boy in your arms and pointed at Dottore “Promise you won’t grow up like this big meanie here. He's annoying” 
“Heehee, okay!” - The tiny Zandik gently hugged your neck. The clone's innocent presence contrasts starkly with Il Dottore's imposing frown. What you failed to notice, however, was the young segment sticking his tongue out at Dottore's jealousy while you hugged the child unawarely. 
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oskea93 · 2 months
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Kansas Anymore (2)
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Tyler Owens x OC
Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.
Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff. ✶ Chapter One ✶
■ Italics = Flashback ■ A/N: You guys are amazing! I just want to say thank you so much for loving this story and follwing the tale of Riley and Tyler ❤️ ■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can't wait to hear from y'all
TL:  @ellesmythe @18lkpeters @hookslove1592, @djs8891, @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek
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“You know when you said that we were going to a show, I didn’t expect it to involve horses and mud.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, my heels sinking into the soggy ground with each step. I had been in Arkansas for less than a month – choosing to attend the college that my father spoke so highly of growing up. As each day passed, it was getting harder and harder to fight the urge to pack all my things and head back home.
My roommate Sarah, who had grown up in the area, laughed as she turned to face me. "Welcome to the South! This is what we call a rodeo. Trust me, you'll have fun."
I glanced around at the bustling fairground. Families gathered around food stalls, the smell of popcorn and barbecue hanging in the air. Children ran past us, their boots splashing in puddles, their laughter ringing out above the distant sounds of country music. Cowboys in worn jeans and hats moved with purpose, leading majestic horses by the reins.
"Fun, huh?" I muttered, trying to pull my heel out of yet another patch of mud. "It looks like a real blast.” Sarah grinned and tugged at my arm, leading me toward the main arena. "Oh, come on! You haven't even seen the best parts yet. The bull riding, barrel racing, and don't forget the rodeo clowns. They’re hilarious!"
As we walked, I noticed the vibrant colors of the stands selling cowboy hats, boots, and all sorts of Western memorabilia. There was an infectious energy in the air. People greeted each other with wide smiles and friendly nods, embodying the warmth of Southern hospitality that Sarah had talked about.
We passed a group of teenagers gathered around a mechanical bull. They cheered each other on, daring one another to take a ride. Sarah nudged me, "Think you could last eight seconds on that thing?"
I shook my head, laughing. "No way! I'd be thrown off in a heartbeat."
A mischievous smirk broke across her face. “Never know till you try.” I rolled my eyes and started to walk away, but her grip on my arm stopped me. “Just once.” Her eyes widened with a playful challenge. “Have a little fun, Riley.”
My eyes glanced between her and the machinery behind her, taking in the sight as a teenage boy was thrown from the contraption, his friends commending his effort with hoots and hollers. The boy, though dusting himself off, wore a wide grin as he rejoined his group, their camaraderie infectious.
I sighed, feeling a mix of reluctance and curiosity. “I’m not wearing the right clothes for that thing,” I said, the excuse as flimsy as it sounded. “Plus, I could break a bone or som—”
“You riding or not, darlin’?” came a loud voice from behind me.
Sarah’s eyes shifted to the voice, and I turned to meet the face of the commenter. He was a tall fucker – had to be over six foot with an overinflated ego. His boots were dusty, and his hat cast a shadow over his eyes, but I could still see the arrogance etched in his smirk. “Excuse me?” I replied, my tone a bit harsher than intended.
“You heard me,” he said, leaning casually against the gate. “You gonna give it a go or just stand there making excuses?” His cocky smile shone bright, and I could practically taste the mockery in his voice. “Too scared you're gonna break a nail?”
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, not out of embarrassment but anger. I clenched my fists and took a step forward, feeling the rough texture of the ground beneath my boots. “Listen, cowboy,” I said, my voice steady despite the irritation bubbling inside. “I’m not here to play games or prove anything to you.”
Sarah shifted uncomfortably beside me, her eyes darting between us. I could sense her unease, but I wasn’t about to back down. The man’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension he was stoking.
“Prove something to me?” he chuckled, pushing off the gate and taking a step closer. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to prove anything to me.” His eyes slowly moved up my body, lingering in a way that made my skin flush. “Just to yourself.”
The guy raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk centered on his chiseled face. Clearly, he thought he had me all figured out.
I turned back to Sarah, her eyes showing concern as I handed off my purse and coat. “You really don’t have to do this, Riley.” Her tone shadowed her eyes. “Tyler’s just being an asshole. He’s like that with all the girls in town—” She paused shortly. “You’re just the only one who’s ever talked to him like that.”
“Let’s see what you got, city girl!” The Tyler guy hooped, causing those close enough to center their attention on the situation.
Rolling my eyes, I hastily removed my purse, pushing the bag into Sarah’s arms. “You really don’t have to do this, Riley,” Sarah's voice now hesitant as she looked at me with concern. “We can just go somewhere else and have fun, forget about that guy.”
I shook my head in protest, my resolve hardening as I cast one last glance at the idiot across the room. His smirk fueled my determination. “No way. I’m not gonna give that jerkoff the satisfaction of watching me wuss out,” I declared, my voice tinged with defiance.
As I pushed up the sleeves of my designer shirt, a small act of rebellion that would have my mother clutching her inherited pearls in horror, I felt a surge of adrenaline. This was my moment to show that I was not someone to be pushed around, not someone to be intimidated by an urban cowboy fool at a fucking rodeo.
I confidently approached the bull, climbing onto the steel, gripping the handle with white-knuckled determination.
"Hold on tight, darlin," the elderly operator smiled warmly, his weathered face lined with experience and mischief. With a practiced hand, he flipped the switch, setting the mechanical bull into motion.
As the bull lurched forward, the world around me seemed to blur into a whirlwind of colors and sounds. The contraption bucked and spun with unpredictable ferocity, testing every ounce of my balance and resolve. I clenched the reins tightly, my muscles straining as I fought to stay atop the bucking beast. Sarah’s cheers blended with the roar of the crowd, a chorus of encouragement that spurred me on.
Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, my focus narrowing to the rhythmic movements of the mechanical beast. Just as I started to think I might actually last the full eight seconds, the bull gave a particularly violent twist, sending me flying into the padded arena.
I let out a groan of both relief and exhaustion, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb away as I managed to flip myself onto my back. As I lay there, breathing heavily, the cool night sky spread out above me like a vast, dark canvas adorned with twinkling stars.
Sarah's figure quickly loomed over me, her expression a mix of concern and relief etched across her features. With a swift movement, she crouched down beside me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe as if checking for any signs of injury.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry and care as she assessed my well-being.
I slowly nodded my head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I think so," I replied, my sentence trailing off momentarily as I gathered my thoughts. "Was that okay?" I inquired, seeking reassurance after the whirlwind of the mechanical bull ride.
Sarah's expression shifted from slight confusion at my question to a mischievous smile that lit up her face. "Are you kidding me, Riley?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pride and excitement. "That was more than okay. You had Tyler Owens, the reigning rodeo champion, dropping his jaw so far to the ground that he's gonna need some help putting it back in place."
We shared a laugh as she helped me off the mat, my black slacks now dotted with dust and dirt.
"You did good, little girl," the older man remarked with a warm smile as we exited the gates of the rodeo arena. I shyly thanked him, feeling a surge of pride at his encouraging words, but my smile quickly faded as a tall stranger approached us, his hands casually tucked into his denim pockets.
"Wasn't expecting you to last a second, city girl," he remarked with a smirk that seemed to gleam in the dim light of the night. "Gotta hand it to you though, you make riding a bull look easy."
I met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, my own smirk playing at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, well," I retorted, taking a step closer to him, the adrenaline of the ride still coursing through my veins. "It's all in the hips, really."
My words hung in the air between us, a playful challenge laced with a hint of confidence. “Is that right?” His voice dropping an octave, sending a shiver down my spine. “Gonna have to teach me your ways then.”
A flicker of a smile danced across my lips, “Me teach you-“ I took a step back. “From what I hear you’re a world-renowned bull rider, probably the best in the county, maybe even the state.” My words boosting his overstrung ego. “I’m sure a bull made of steel is no match for-“ I paused, tilting my head. “What’s your name again?”
“You know my name, darlin.” His words igniting a burn in my stomach.
He arched an eyebrow as I drew near, clearly taken aback by my sudden boldness. His cronies and Sarah exchanged glances, unsure of what was unfolding before them. I could almost taste the tension in the air, thick and crackling with anticipation.
Without a word, I stood before him, my gaze unwavering. The hint of a smirk played on his lips, a challenge in his eyes. But I held my ground, a silent defiance radiating from every fiber of my being. My hand slowly trailing up his flannel covered front, his breath hitching with each touch.
In one swift motion, I reached out and plucked the Stetson hat from his head, the symbol of his false bravado. Placing the hat atop my head, my smile smug as I looked up at him, almost daring him to take it back.
“You shouldn’t let strangers get too close to you, Tyler Owens,” I remarked coolly, the gravel crunching under my heels as I took a step back. “That’s a lesson us city girls learn at a young age.”
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10:54am (2.21 hrs since arrival)
“I can’t believe it's been over a year since we’ve seen you and the little bean,” Lilly smiled warmly over her coffee cup, her eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and longing. “I mean, we get to talk to her on video chat, but it’s just not the same.”
I nodded in agreement, a tinge of guilt flickering in my chest. “Yeah, work has been so hectic, and I never know where you guys are gonna be, especially during the season. Tyler’s like a butterfly – floating wherever the wind blows.”
Lilly chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of understanding. “I know he misses her a lot –” Her sentence paused, a moment of hesitation flitting across her features. “Misses you a lot too.” Her gaze met mine, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and unspoken truths. “He still has that picture of the two of you nestled in his visor.”
The photograph that Lilly had taken two weeks after I found out I was pregnant with Caroline. The storm clouds black as night loomed behind us, a stark contrast to the brightness of our smiles that shone as radiant as the sun in the sky.
Tyler had insisted on capturing the moment, his easy laugh filling the air as he playfully teased about becoming parents. Despite the uncertainty and fear that lingered in the depths of my heart, his unwavering support and infectious optimism had been a beacon of light in the midst of the looming storm.
The diner's door suddenly swung open, and in walked Boone, a towering figure with my four-year-old daughter, Caroline, perched high on his shoulders. "Here she comes, Ms. America!" Boone's southern twang echoed through the small space, causing a few of the older folks to turn their heads in mild disapproval. Caroline's infectious giggle, so reminiscent of her father's, rang out as she played along with the theatrics, her smile radiant as ever.
I watched as the two of them made their way through the diner, drawing smiles and curious glances from the other patrons. Caroline's tiny hand waved enthusiastically at the strangers, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Boone, ever the playful uncle, hammed it up for her, making exaggerated gestures and funny faces that elicited peals of laughter from the little girl perched on his shoulders.
As Boone approached our table, I made space for him in the booth, eagerly awaiting Caroline's arrival. Her tiny hands reached out for me as I gently lifted her off his shoulders, her eyes alight with excitement. "Mommy, Daddy said I could go with him and Uncle Booney when the 'nado comes," she announced proudly. "Daddy said there's gonna be one real soon."
My eyes immediately darted to where Boone still stood, his gaze evading mine as he focused intently on the intricate pattern of the floor tiles. "No," I said firmly, my hand instinctively reaching out to gently grasp Caroline's pigtailed braid. "Sweetheart, it's far too dangerous to go with Daddy and Uncle Boone. You need to stay here with me where it's safe."
Caroline's face began to crumple into a disappointed pout, her lower lip trembling slightly. Her eyes, usually bright with curiosity and mischief, now filled with a mixture of defiance and longing. "No, Mommy," she protested, her voice rising in a blend of frustration and determination. "I want to go with Daddy!"
Her attitude shifted suddenly, like a fault line in an earthquake, her small arms crossing over her chest in a display of stubborn defiance. The tension in the room seemed to thicken as her words hung in the air, charged with the raw energy of a child's unwavering will.
I let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. My eyes flicked over to Lilly, her expression a mixture of concern and understanding.
"Caroline, I'm not having this argument with you," I said firmly, my voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. The tears that had been threatening to spill over now glistened in Caroline's wide green eyes, her lower lip quivering with unshed emotion.
"You're not going, and that's final," I stated, my tone leaving no room for further negotiation. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of my words, the tension between us palpable.
Caroline's shoulders slumped in defeat, her small form trembling with suppressed emotion. A single tear escaped her eye, trailing down her cheek in a silent testament to her disappointment.
Lilly sat forward, her presence a comforting anchor. "Caroline, honey, Mommy is just trying to keep you safe. Sometimes we have to trust that the grown-ups know what's best for us, even when it's hard to understand."
“But you go with daddy to the nados.” Caroline's matter-of-fact statement catching Lilly off guard, her surprise evident in the way her brow furrowed slightly.
"Well," Lilly began, her voice gentle yet tinged with a sense of hesitation. "It's my job to go with your dad and help with the tornadoes. But if my mom told me not to, then I would listen to her and stay behind." Lilly and I shared a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.
We both knew her words were a facade, a carefully constructed lie meant to shield Caroline from the harsh realities of the world. Lilly's mother's disapproval of her association with Tyler and the gang was no secret, a source of tension that simmered beneath the surface of their relationship.
The chimes above the door sounded again as Tyler stepped across the threshold. His smile on display as he greeted those in the restaurant, sparking a conversation with the random patrons. “Daddy!” Caroline quickly stood on the booth’s seat, her arms waving in the air to get Tyler’s attention.
Tyler waved goodbye to his admirers, his smile growing even wider as he approached our booth. As he drew closer, I could already anticipate the first thing that would escape Caroline's lips—the reminder of how I had told her she couldn't go with him on a chase, a trait she had undoubtedly inherited from me.
"Hey there, sweet pea," Tyler greeted Caroline, his voice brimming with affection as he stepped behind the booth. Caroline's arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as he lifted her out of the seat with practiced ease. "Have you gotten something to eat yet?"
Caroline nestled her head against Tyler's shoulder, her small frame shaking with soft sniffles. Concern etched across his face, Tyler gently pressed, "What's wrong, baby?" He reached up to wipe away a stray tear that was making its way down her cheek.
"Mommy won't let me go with you and Uncle Booney for the nado chase," Caroline whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of disappointment and longing.
 Tyler's gaze, the same shade of green as Caroline, locked onto mine with a mix of curiosity and concern. "What's the deal, Riley?" he inquired, his voice gentle but probing.
My face betrayed my emotions before I could even formulate a response. A wave of unease and protectiveness washed over me as I struggled to find the right words to convey my concerns.
"The deal, Tyler, is that she's just a baby," I began, my voice tinged with a blend of firmness and vulnerability. "She doesn't need to be out in the truck, spinning around in a tornado. It's not safe for you and the guys, and it's definitely not safe for a 4-year-old child."
"I'm not a baby, mommy!" Caroline quipped, her voice filled with a mix of defiance and determination, catching me off guard.
My eyebrows raised in surprise at her unexpected retort. "Well, you're my baby, little girl, and like I said, it’s too dangerous to be out there with daddy. Maybe when you're a little older – say twenty –“
“Twenty!” Tyler exclaimed. “You can’t have her living in a bubble all her life, Riley.”
The atmosphere in the room grew tense as my jaw slacked in immediate anger, my eyes narrowing as Tyler stared back at me. "Excuse me?" I retorted; my voice edged with frustration. "Like you have any control of that, since I'm the primary parent here and you're just someone who comes and goes like the fucking wind you chase!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed as Boone and Lilly stepped forward, "Hey, little bean—" Lilly approached Tyler and Caroline, who was actually crying at this point. My frustration with Tyler causing me to forget that she was right in front of me in his arms.
"Why don’t you come with us and help us sell some t-shirts?" Lilly suggested, her warm smile aimed at Caroline, who sniffled and wiped away her tears.
Boone stepped lightly behind me, his easygoing demeanor a calming presence. "Yeah, who's gonna turn down an adorable kid?" he added with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood.
I hastily ran a hand through my hair as Caroline climbed into Lilly's arms, her giggles filling the room and momentarily easing the tension. Tyler's face remained stoic as he sent glares my way, the unspoken emotions between us hanging heavy in the air.
Feeling the weight of his gaze, I met his eyes with a mix of defiance and weariness. The complexities of our relationship, the unresolved issues simmering beneath the surface, were laid bare in that moment of silent confrontation.
Tyler's voice was low and filled with hurt as he spoke, "That was a really shitty thing to do, Riley. To bring that up in front of Caroline – make me look like a bad dad. Real nice."
I lowered my head in frustration as Tyler stormed past me, his steps purposeful and heavy. The hushed whispers of those around us mingled with the clinking of cutlery, casting a spotlight on our tense exchange. With a heavy sigh, I gathered my composure, steeling myself against the onslaught of prying eyes and whispered conversations. The weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, a reminder of the fragility of our private struggles in a very public setting.
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circeyoru · 6 months
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Collection of Overlords _ Part 6 = Requested
[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]
Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 (here) — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13
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Alastor nearly dropped the tray containing your food when he felt your darkening aura. He immediately got over and set the tray of food in front of you while explaining what was cooked for you. Ignoring the obvious death glare you were sending across the table at Lucifer who was still proudly introducing you
It was amazing for Alastor to see you silently seething with annoyance yet do nothing. Perhaps it was because Lucifer has yet to step out of line? Or because you had your dose of terror because of the Vees?
You were introduced as the mentor of Lucifer when he came to Hell all those years ago, meaning you were older than ancient. A hellborn, so you were able to travel throughout all of Hell, basically to other Rings that’s why you weren’t around for so long
Now the ‘Collector’ title was an interesting one. They didn’t know you hold the souls of the Overlords, they only know you hold a number of souls at your command. How you can do so while being a hellborn was beyond them. But they were aware that there were hellborn nobles, and that’s what they chalked it up to
Still though, it doesn’t help the fact that your cover was blown
“Dear student of mine.” You spoke softly with a smile. Alastor got a chill at the gentleness and eerie feeling of an incoming scolding.
“Yes, Teach?” That got Lucifer’s attention as he stopped with his flattery and turned to you with a brighter smile.
“Do shut up now.”
Your disguise dropped, revealing your true form to the others. Your eyes now closed, and an aura of authority and power radiated from you that commanded control and pressure
You politely asked Lucifer to leave the seat and continue with the hotel tour with his daughter. You had Alastor sit down while you two enjoyed a meal together. Alastor took the liberty of casting a barrier around the two of you to ensure privacy and uninterrupted moments
Peacefully, you listened to Alastor as he told you tales of what happened during his 7 years absence. The poor deer was gone looking for you after he realized your absence was a bit uncalled for, even going as far as to submit to demonic summoning in the human world to see if you would call him back to your services
It was amusing and you chuckled at the silly stuff humans had your deer do, Alastor’s cute ears pinned back at your mocking laugh, but returned to their position with joy when you said you meant to offense
So Alastor continued to share his stories to entertain you, all while you listened and enjoyed his cooking with a content smile gracing your lips
Never has he asked question about you, for you’ll never tell. You have your secrets and sacred knowledge and information that is only for your knowing. He knew, everyone else in your elite  collection knew. All they ask for was your presence and support in their time in this Hell realm
It was obvious how while you have all this power to squash them like mere insects, you never did so and instead supported them and given them a title that would be feared. You established a system for them that will be recognized by all of Hell
“I was afraid you’d be gone forever, My Liege.” Alastor’s ears drooped down.
You smiled, “Forever’s a long time. I should know. I’ll never be gone, no need to fret.”
Alastor remembers that day well, when he was approached by you. The shadows he controlled ran rampened, out of his control. He was suddenly brought to a forest, he saw the city buildings over the treelines, but he couldn’t leave this forest no matter what. Even when he tried to use his powers and his more demonic form, nothing worked. Something kept him there by force
For the first time since his descent to Hell, he felt powerless and caged. There was no one in that forest to exploit or ask questions. It was truly just him
It felt like he was held prisoner yet not since he was free to do as he pleased. He could conjure things, so his daily necessities were met. Then there were the deers that were nothing like the hell creatures, it was one he was familiar to back when he was alive. So he enjoyed the game of hunting
It felt like he was well-provided. All but his freedom to leave
He didn’t know how long he stayed there, but there were whispers here and there. Creatures that were a blend of ravens and crows were in the trees watching him, Cages as they introduced themselves
The Cages whispered ideas into him, he ignored them. Then they continued to repeating the same thing to him. He had enough and tried what was suggested to him. For some odd reason, it worked. It was like a power upgrade from what he was capable of, a boost if you will. The Cages spoke words of praise that felt oddly pleasant
From then on, he looked forward to the Cages’ suggestions. Everytime he accomplished what they proposed, compliments came to him with a wash of comfort, then another tip came. He found himself growing more and more reliant on the connection he had with the Cages and anticipated their presence every time his eyes opened from a nap or long rest
Yet the time came when all the Cages seemingly disappeared from the forest. He searched high and low, turning desperate for their presence again. He long forgotten his goal of escape since this place made his entertainment worthwhile and his power was growing
At the sight of that one Cage, he followed it. He knew then, it was on purpose, everything that happened had a purpose. The Cage led him to you. You who sat in the clearing tending to a number of Cages that were around you
When he materialized out of the shadows and saw your form, he felt like he was in a trance. That presence he was feeling through the Cages, it was all so strong around you, passing by those winged creatures, he confirmed it was all you. Everything that happened here was all your doing
Instead of rage and bloodlust like he had in the beginning of his time here, there was a longing of passion and an urge to stay by your side so he wouldn’t be separated from you. He didn’t understand it, but he knew you were the key to his pillar. No, you are his pillar
“Radio Demon, Alastor. Overlords before you has met me one way or another.” Your voice was so angelic that it felt like a crime that you’d be in Hell. Wait. He was in Hell? It felt like paradise. “I have a collection of souls at my disposal and I control the Overlords I have picked to be in my collection.”
“I wish to join.” He spoke so urgently as he fell to a kneeling position with his eyes staring at your form, he felt like if he delayed, it was life or death. 
A melodiously chuckle came from your curved lips that was a small smile. Your hand that had a Cage perched on it flicked and the Cage was airborn. You offered your hand to him, “If you do, you’ll be giving me your soul. I’m sure you know what that means.”
“I don’t care.” Alastor spoke with confidence firmly. “As long as I am by your side.”
Alastor held his heart stop when your eyes opened, it was captivating that his eyes focused on that the moment your eyelids revealed them to him. It felt it it was his birthday present and Christmas gift all wrapped in one. He saw his reflection from your eyes, the softness of your hand broke him from his trance, and the joyous tone from your voice got him melting into you, “As you wish. My Dear Alastor.”
Over the next few days, you have been observing the hotel residence after you little reveal
Lucifer was acting like a kicked puppy but soon recovered after you joined him in making breakfast for the others. He happily started singing and skipping around to make your smile last. Of course, he apologized for not realizing you were trying to hide your identity
You brushed it off since what’s done is done. Better now than later since no bonds were formed just yet. It was similar to how you gave Alastor a taste of what was to happen after he gave you his soul that day. The entire situation in the forest was to show him that he was free yet caged in your hold, he knew what he was getting into
Well, Alastor did seem to be the type of soul that wanted dominance so you did that to test and see if he can obey commands before offering him your contract. You expected him to fight for control longer and more fiercely, yet that wasn’t the case since he committing to you and proving himself the moment he saw you
Charlie was an interesting case. There was some time where she was more careful with her words around you, perhaps scared that you’d snap at her like you did with her father. And the fact that you were his father’s teacher that he respects and prides himself with associating with you. But then when Alastor gave her a word of caution that you weren’t as scary as you seem, then she took her chance
You got it through to her that she could act the same with you as before. She did not hesitate after that, of course, still keeping in mind some boundaries. She was back to her cheerful and fun self around you. Even enjoying feeling like a grandparent was taking care of her and spoiling her. Though that didn’t mean you were lenient with her that you’ll overlook things
You offer advice from time to time when Charlie was busy planning activities. You advised her on how to use her authority and power when necessary, her kindness is her strength and weakness. More on the latter since this was Hell, a number of demons will take advantage of her and push her down. Sure she can fight back, but it wouldn’t be enough when they are perfectly aware of what buttons to push
Vaggie showed obvious suspicion and caution around you. She went as far as to avoid you and not stand in your path. When it was obvious Alastor listens to you without another word, it raised even more red flags in her mind because you were that powerful. Lucifer speaking highly of you was even worse
She heard of ‘The Collector’, some demons she killed when she was still an exterminator screamed that The Collector will reign supreme or that a terrible death will be passed down as judgement to them. Hellborns move to other circles when it’s extermination day, some might be unlucky to escaped but exterminators weren’t taught to tell the difference between hellborn and sinners
When she was abandoned in Hell, she learned that The Collector holds a vast ocean of souls at your command. It was a terrifying thought to know that if you wanted, war can beginning at the drop of your command
Hell has 7 Rings, each represents a sin and only the Pride Ring has sinners of human souls. But Heaven was just that one. A paradise on top of the clouds. Now that angels can be killed, if you so wished, can’t you take over Heaven as well?
You were aware of all Vaggie’s little fears. You didn’t mind it at first, but her paranoia was getting out of head when she tried to deter the others to stay clear of you. Namely Charlie since you have been caring for her since you was too young to even remember. Though being the sweet princess she is, tried to have Vaggie under you weren’t a threat
A duel, you offered Vaggie. If she won, you’d leave the hotel and never step near any of them under any circumstances. Alastor nearly snapped when Vaggie pushed you to offer since an absurd wager, you own all of Hell, why would such a rule even apply to you? But you raised your hand to Alastor so he’d calm down. If you win, well, Vaggie will stop with all this ‘you’re the bad guy’ talk
Everyone came to watch. Charlie tried to persuade Vaggie to call it off but failed. Meanwhile, Lucifer urged you to hold back since this was his daughter’s beloved girlfriend. You planned to do so anyways and everyone stayed on the sidelines
Vaggie readied her spear and summoned her wings. You smiled, your form changing to a familiar one. Carmilla. You skillfully dodged all the attacks Vaggie launched at you as though you were dancing. While the duel was still ongoing, you pointed out Vaggie’s flaws and weak points before you attacked once and the winner of the fight was decided
Afterwards, Vaggie was persistant in asking for your fighting lessons and techniques. It got to the point where Alastor would try to move you to another spot so that his time with you wouldn’t get continuously interrupted. To his dismay, you found amusement in the entirety of the situation
“How dare you try to steal what precious time I have from me!” Alastor glared at Vaggie.
“This is a connection between warriors! You butt out of this edge lord!” Vaggie remarked back.
You merely chuckled at the exchange and never said anything to side with either. 
Angel hid his discomfortable of you from the others and acted as his usual self, as much as he can. The only ones that noticed his awkwardness was probably Husk and you. You had a hunch it was due to the fact that you own too many souls to count, he was under contract with Valentino. The poor soul
Pity as though it may be, it was his choice to be under that sorry excuse of an Overlord in the first place. He’s merely living the life he signed himself for. The same for Husk
Now Husk had the best reaction. He was the latest Overlord to be rejected from your collection, but not the fastest. He didn’t get anything guidance like how your current Elites (excluding the Vees) had, certainly never having Alastor’s treatment as well. For you saw gambling as a dangerous bet to support in. Where there’s a win, there’s always an even bigger lost
This was something you warned Husk after accepting him as an Overlord among your ranks. It certainly didn’t help when he was hosting more and more gambling parties and inviting other Overlords to join in. They participated but were quick to give him their input and warn to change a domain since you’ll be more supportive of it
Husk didn’t listen. He was winning and was blinded by that. So the other Overlords counted down till Husk was removed from the collection. It didn’t take long for your Overlords to realize they had a chance to pin down the former Overlord Husk to their command and show you their ability. Alastor took the job and the role of relying that he was abandoned
He didn’t know, he never knew. He reflected on that and found times when his fellow Overlords tried to help him and teach him the ropes, since these things aren’t something you’ll tell them. You like it when your Overlords are independent when they need to
So he shifted his focus like you advised so long ago. He gained the ability to read demons like a book as time gone by, so much so that he’d love to show it to you, but Alastor would never let that happen
When he saw you near, he tried offering you a drink or two. He wanted to talk, to say that he was sorry and that he was wrong. It’s always when he got to a suitable time to tell you that you were pulled away by one thing or another
He thought he lost his chance again until you met him in the hallway when he was retreating to his room to get some shuteye
“Husk, my former soul.” Your words made him freeze and turn to you, there was that small smile on your face that made you look so serene and neutral to everything. “I hope you continue your time here in service to the dear Princess and the hotel as Alastor has assigned you.”
“But I…”
“Until I call for you.” You cut him off as your smile widened, “Don’t worry about anything and try to build your power back, I see that you have learned your lesson.” You snapped your fingers and a card with an eye design on it appeared, you passed it to him, “Alastor knows my thoughts on the matter, so I hope you won’t disappoint me again.”
Husk bowed deeply, his wings relaxed that they touched the floor almost entirely, “Yes, I will, Master.”
You chuckled and showed him a hologram of him protecting and caring for Angel. “Do you know?” Husk looked up, unsure of why you showed him something like this. “That an Overlord can challenge another to gain the soul contract that’s signed?”
Husk’s eyes widened at the message you conveyed.
You made a hush motion over your lips as your eyes peeked open, “Let’s keep this between us. If you manage to prove yourself, there’s more to come and more to receive. Though that all depends on your willingness. Husk.”
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Note: I'm so curious on your thoughts for this one~ There's Alastor's little backstory to how he became the way he is and then the little ending here~ Hehe
Well~ Like I said before, the next uploads are for {Unwanted Soul}
Circe Y. 
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splonk-fox · 4 months
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The flaws of Jax and Ragatha, and why they matter to Pomni's character arc.
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Within the two episodes of The Amazing Digital Circus that have been released so far as of writing this post, there have been two characters who have been given the most attention and depth out of any of the cast (ignoring Pomni obviously), and those two characters are Ragatha and Jax.
The duo consisting of the kindhearted optimist and the meanspirited pessimist have without a doubt become some of the most interesting characters to analyze within this series so far thanks to how much meaningful screentime and character depth they have been given within the the two episodes that we viewers have been fortunate enough to witness with our very eyes.
But why is this? Why is it that these two have received special attention from the writers so far, and what role do they play in Pomni's character journey? Well I believe I may have found the answer, and it's unfortunately one that does not spell a good future for these characters. But to truly understand where I am coming from, we must first understand who these two characters are and how they relate to our main protagonist.
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To start off with the kindest of the duo, we have already learned quite a lot about Ragatha thanks to the two episodes she has been featured in so far.
Her most prominent character trait is without a doubt her kindness. She is the first person to really be genuinely nice to Pomni upon her entrance to the circus and spends the rest of the episode showing her around the place and trying her best to help her get settled in.
She's also someone who doesn't like to be overly blunt with her responses, such is shown when Pomni asks how they leave the circus, to which Ragatha, instead of just saying that she couldn't, phrases it in a way that makes it sound as if they simply haven't found a way to leave yet, this was obviously done in an attempt to not freak Pomni out too much, though this doesn't really go anywhere thanks to Jax.
Now that's great and all, Ragatha's a nice person, you can easily observe that through casual watches of the show, looking deeper however, you can see that there is a lot more going on with Ragatha than she would like to make you believe.
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Insecurity is another trait that Ragatha has that, while not shown off as prominently as her optimism, is still very important to Ragatha's character.
As we see in episode 2 of the series, one of Ragatha's biggest fears is not being liked. She vents to Kinger about how she feels like Pomni doesn't really like her that much, and that clearly scares her. And why wouldn't it? The end of episode 2 makes it clear that one of the most important things in this show when it comes to keeping the main cast mentally stable, is their sense of community.
They're all in this together, they have each other's backs and will do their best to be there for each other when it's needed. That is what is communicated to us within the second episode through Kaufmo's funeral.
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This segment of the episode, while somber in its tone, is also one that instills hope within Pomni and the viewer. Because it shows that despite everything, the circus members do care about each other. That abstraction is something that affects everyone and it isn't something that is just brushed off immediately, which if you recall, was the crux of Pomni's fears as seen at the beginning of the second episode, the fear of being forgotten, the fear of no one caring.
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"I don't even remember her name honestly" - Dream Jax.
So with how the importance of community has been firmly established within this show's messaging at this point, it should be no surprise that Ragatha's biggest fear is not having that community. Of people not liking you, of people hating you. So how does Ragatha solve this?
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Repression, that's how. Of all of Ragatha's personality traits her tendency to not display her true feelings towards things are without a doubt the most damaging.
The best example of this is how she reacts to Pomni abandoning her for the exit. The pilot would lead you to believe that she was mad at Pomni for doing this, that she didn't trust her anymore because of this selfish act.
And yet, that's all brushed to the side in the following episode. Ragatha is back to her optimistic self and is saying that everything is fine! That it was completely understandable and that there was no bad blood between them. Yet you can tell that isn't the whole truth, that Ragatha really didn't get over what Pomni had done to her that easily.
Now do I think Ragatha hates Pomni or secretly resents her? No, not really. I do think she's being honest when she says that she doesn't hold anything against her for doing this. But that doesn't mean she wasn't hurt by it. We can see clear as day from the pilot that this did affect her, so why does she act like she doesn't?
Because, from her perspective, her feelings do not matter. The only thing that does is to make sure Pomni is able to adjust, to make sure that everyone is happy, that everyone is still somewhat sane within the circus, and so she compromises her emotions in order to do this. Gooseworx has even said it herself that Ragatha often says things she doesn't necessarily mean in order to ease tensions. She doesn't want to cause conflict, she doesn't want people to fight with each other because she understands how important community is to the members of the circus persisting.
Yet in the midst of all of this, what Ragatha fails to realize is that with how she currently handles things, she is paving the way for her own mental break.
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Ragatha, in her attempts to be there for others, has walled herself off from others being there for her. By lying about how she really feels about things, by acting as if she is fine, she is not allowing herself the emotional vulnerability necessary for others to be there for her when she needs it.
The closest thing we have had to this so far is with Kinger, and while having someone she feels comfortable enough to lament her feelings around is a good thing, this is one person, one person who is... not exactly mentally stable, to put it lightly. Is not exactly an end all be all solution to her problems.
Kinger being the only person who Ragatha can rely on is only gonna work for a limited amount of time, the more she represses, the more she hides her true emotions and clear mental instability, the closer she is to meeting a cruel fate, one that no one would be able to save her from because no one even realized there was something wrong with her. For in her pursuit to make everyone else happy, she has sacrificed her own happiness, as a result.
And then there's Jax.
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Jax, in a lot of ways, is pretty much the polar opposite of Ragatha. While her leading trait is kindness, Jax's leading trait is being a complete and utter asshole. And while Ragatha is all about answering things in a roundabout way to ease stress, Jax is all about the blunt answers.
This is best shown to us in the pilot when, in the same scene where Ragatha tries to answer Pomni's question of "how do I leave?" in a way that wouldn't stress her out too heavily, Jax goes straight in with the "you can't". Jax is a pessimist, he has accepted that there is no way out, and is simply riding things as they go by.
Jax's leading character trait is all about causing as much chaos as he can for the sake of his own satisfaction. He doesn't care about how others feel, the only thing he cares about is causing as much chaos as possible simply because he can.
Yet that isn't all that's going on with Jax, there's something deeper here, something more complex.
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When it comes to the scenes everyone points to when saying that Jax has a lot more going on with him than meets the eye, the scene where he reacts to Kaufmo's funeral is the one everyone looks at with an analytical lens, and that's for a good reason.
For I think this little scene might just tell us a lot more about Jax than we think.
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One thing that I've come to notice about Jax's brand of chaos is that it's very reliant on others' reactions. All of the chaos he causes, all of the absurd and awful things he does are for the sake of seeing how others react. From throwing Pomni over the side of a truck and attempting to use her as a human bridge, or literally everything that he does to Gangle, it's all reaction-based, and that made me realize that, despite how selfish and uncaring he acts towards everyone else, community is still the one thing that truly matters most.
He needs the others so that they can react to his hijinx, as they are what give said actions meaning. If he had no crowd to watch as he acts like a shitty person, then he has no reason to do anything. But that is also where Jax's true character flaw comes in, his selfishness.
With how Jax is constantly pushing others around for the sake of his own amusement, Jax is very clearly a self-centered person. He is someone who is in it for himself and no one else. Who cares if others don't like him? Who cares if others despise him? As long as he gets to see funny things happen to people, he is gonna be okay.
But what happens when that method is no longer effective? What happens when the others don't give him the reaction he wants? What happens when he can no longer use chaos as a way to distract from the pointlessness of his reality?
Well, as scary as this may be to think about, Jax won't really have much of anything to fall back on. His cruel actions have wrote him into a corner. No one likes him, that much is obvious. And while Jax seems content with this now? What happens when he is put in the position of needing someone else's help?
Well, then he'll have no one, and it's ironically for the exact opposite reason to Ragatha. Ragatha's problem is that she is constantly repressing her emotions, despite the fact that she has people who care about her, she doesn't open up to them because in her eyes, her feelings are secondary to others'.
Yet Jax is the opposite, he's honest, he is self-centered, and that's also why he is one of the members who are in this most danger.
In a show that seems to be about how important community is and how important it is to stay together and be there for each other? To have a character who is the complete opposite of that. To have someone who doesn't care about others, who won't be there when someone else is hurting. To have someone who is actively making things harder for everyone... that just spells out demise.
Jax's true weakness is that he does not have a community who will be there for him when he needs it, he was never there for others so why should they be there for him? Meaning that when Jax is at the end of his rope, crying out for help, no one will listen, because as cruel as it sounds, most of the members would probably be happy that he's gone.
While this does admittedly rely a bit on speculation, I think what I've stated above might be the true reason for why Jax looked sad for a moment when the other characters were talking about the funerals held for those who have abstracted. Because in that small moment, he realizes he might not get a funeral of his own when he "dies", or if he did, no one would really have anything nice to say about him.
And that fear, that knowing of how the way you've built yourself up by putting others down has lead to everyone hating you, to everyone not having a single good thing to say about you... that is terrifying. And yet he hides it, he walks away, he refuses to attend the funeral because then he will have to be confronted with the uncomfortable reality of the fact that he won't die as someone who was remembered for doing good things.
The only thing he'll be remembered for, is how much everyone hated him. And all of that brings us right back, to Pomni.
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I said at the beginning of this post, as well as with the title itself, that Ragatha and Jax matter to Pomni's character arc, but why is this? Sure they're both main characters so obviously they're going to influence her journey going forward, but how exactly does any of this matter to Pomni? It's simple really.
Ragatha and Jax represent two extremes, they represent what happens when you lean too far in one direction. In one case, it is caring too much about others and not caring about yourself, and in the other, it's caring too much about yoursef and not caring about others.
Pomni has already shown traits of both Jax and Ragatha. She has shown an empathetic, kindhearted side as seen in her interactions with Gummigoo, and she has shown a selfish side, as seen when she abandoned Ragatha for the "exit" in the pilot.
Pomni has shown herself to be both selfish and selfless. But what part of her matters more? Simple answer, both. It is important to care about others while also taking time to take care of yourself. Ragatha and Jax show what happens when you forget to do one of these things.
By always taking care of others, you're forgetting to take care of yourself, and by always taking care of yourself, you fail to take care of others. To find a healthy balance is to do both. To be aware of your own mental health while also making sure that others are doing okay too. And this is something that Pomni will need to realize if she is going to make it in the circus.
And this is where Jax and Ragatha become important. I believe these two will show Pomni how important it is to keep a balance of things. To not lean too far in one direction, as if you do, it spells bad news for you either way. And how will this be communicated to her and the audience?
Abstraction.
Think about it. If Ragatha and Jax's harmful practices continue without change and they end up abstracing because of it, that will be a wakeup call to Pomni, it will show her the flaws of being too selfless, and too selfish. Is it an extreme way to communicate such message? Sure, but it's also one that can't be ignored.
We, the audience, and Pomni, would see first hand the consequences of leaning too far in either direction, that if you don't find a balance, you will end up like Jax and Ragatha did.
And that's why I think these two in particular have been given so much screentime and attention these past two episodes. Because they are meant to show us the most extreme versions of Pomni's most prominent character traits.
The ability to care about yourself, and the ability to care about others.
Of course, I might be wrong in this assessment. We are far too early in the show's runtime to truly predict any big events like this. But from a narrative standpoint, I believe this interpretation makes the most sense in the way of showing us the audience, and Pomni, what truly matters. It's not just about you, it's not just about others, it's about both.
Thank you for reading.
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thisisutl · 1 year
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The real dog that inspired Ghost Trick's "Missile".
As many people on Tumblr have already pointed out, Ghost Trick is a game that is best experienced going in fully-blind. It offers amazing puzzle-based gameplay, a charming cast of characters and a unique story with plenty of twists and turns that will leave you both stunned and fulfilled by the end. My one true regret with the game is that I can't experience it for the first time again.
So, in trying to hype up the game for its release on Steam, Switch, Playstation and XBox, I decided to go for a novel approach: Instead of gushing about the game and potentially spoiling it for you, I will instead offer some facts about the real-life dog that inspired one of the game's most memorable characters. Knowing those facts won't spoil the game for you and will in fact make you appreciate its story a whole lot more, so feel free to reblog away, adding any facts that I might have missed about the game's Charismatic Cheerful Capable Caring Canine.
You know… This adorable little guy: 
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Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Missile Takumi!
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Missile was a pomeranian Puppy adopted by Shu Takumi on 2007. He was named after a dog appearing in Gyakuten Saiban 1 (aka Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney 1). The dog in the original game was a throwaway gag, not essential in the overall game’s story. The real-life  little pomeranian however proved to be an essential part of Shu Takumi’s life.
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(Source)
(More facts after the break)
Missile was Shu Takumi’s best friend. The little doggie was always there for him, always available to lift his spirits with a cheerful bark when he was feeling down and always offering a friendly paw even in the gloomiest of circumstances. Missile was a truly loyal friend, offering unconditional love and friendship, helping Shu Takumi get over even the most difficult of times.
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(Source)
So when time came to make Ghost Trick, a game about ghosts, regrets, mystery, loyalty, friendship and ultimate redemption, it was perfectly natural for Shu Takumi to give his best little friend a part in the story.
The game’s developers didn’t initially want to put Missile in the game. They didn’t have a problem with putting a dog as a character, they had a problem with the fact that the dog was a Pomeranian and they would have problems animating his fur in-game. Shu Takumi however insisted and eventually, after meeting the little doggie and falling under its charm, the developers relented into putting him in the game in all his Pomeranian glory.
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(Image from lparchive)
Not only did they put him in the game, in fact, they went above and beyond in capturing his charm perfectly. They studied his moves and mannerisms, in order to get his movements down pat.
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(Image from lparchive)
Missile’s iconic in-game bark was actually a recording of sound-designer’s Nobuyuki Shimizu Labrador Retriever who was coincidentally also named Missile! Shu Takumi wanted to record his own Missile, but Shimizu-san also wanted to put a part of his own dog in the game and Takumi eventually relented.
So, yeah, Missile in the game was voiced by Missile. Just not THE Missile.
In order to make up for not recording his own dog for the game Shu Takumi made a “character song” for Ghost Trick’s Missile:. 
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Yes, those barks you hear in the song are recordings of THE Missile, no substitutes this time! This is how the little Pomeranian used to bark!
The song was made to celebrate Ghost Trick’s 3rd year release anniversary and even though the song talks about Ghost Trick’s Missile, a lot of the behaviors mentioned in the lyrics (such as Missile’s tendency to climb on the sofa and then needing help to get back down) are things that Takumi’s pomeranian friend used to do.
The song was later remade by CAP-JAMS and included in the soundtrack of the 2023 remaster of the game.
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And, yes, the original Missile’s barks are still there.
If it’s not perfectly clear, Shu Takumi really wanted to tell everyone how awesome his little dog was. He made the little dog an essential part of Ghost Trick and stealthily  made the world, at least that small part of it that played Ghost Trick, fall in love with him.
Ghost Trick was released under critical acclaim, even receiving a nomination for Gamespot’s Best 2011 Puzzle Game, but the fact that it was released near the end of the DS’s lifespan and a lackluster advertising campaign made it 2011’s “Best Game You’ve Never Played”.
The game, however, slowly gained a cult following and within that following, the story of Missile resonated with everyone and became one of its standout points. He might not have been the player-character but he was definitely the show-stealer.
(To tell any more would be going into spoiler territory, but seriously go buy and play Ghost Trick any way you can. It really deserves a bigger audience).
So beloved was the little dog in fact that when Ace Attorney was eventually adapted into an anime, the animators couldn’t resist putting him into episodes 13 and 30 of the first and second season respectively. In fact, in the anime Missile was indirectly responsible for the “class trial” incident that shaped Naruhodo/Wright’s life.
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Before you ask, no, Missile was not voicing himself this time (something about working with animals and children). He was voiced by Tomokazu Seki in the Japanese version and by Kyle Hebert in the English dub. Still a nice tribute to Takumi’s little doggie.
One final Missile fact that I can’t find a proper segway for is that Missile also got along surprisingly well with Wagahai and Sankichii, the cats that later also entered the Takumi household, though, the way Takumi tells this, it was the cats that called the shots more often than not. 
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Missile passed away on the 10th of November 2018. The way Shu Takumi puts it, the valiant little doggie waited for him to return from the US, to spend some final time with him before passing on. We don’t know the exact details just that it was sudden and unexpected.
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(Source)
Missile is no longer with us, but his memory lives on. He will always be remembered by Shu Takumi as the friend that always was by his side… and always will be with him.
…and he will always be remembered by the gaming community as the little Pomeranian that stole everybody’s hearts and made Ghost Trick a truly memorable experience.
MISSAIRU TONDEKE! 
(Missile’s Launched!)
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shirefantasies · 4 months
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Hey! Recently finished LotR for the first time and just wanted to thank you for sharing so much amazing writing with the fandom!
I was wondering, after reading the how many children they’d like hcs, if you’d be comfortable writing some characters(personally requesting Legolas and Eowyn, but whoever you’d wish of course!) meeting their(/them and their partner’s if they already have children ofc) firstborn!
Either way! Tysm for reading and have an amazing day!!
Forgot I had one more finished draft lmao sorry everyone🤙🏻 here's one more post
Bro OF COURSE I love doing parent AU stuff!!! This is such a cute imagine omg. Also thanks for the kind words & welcome to the fandom 🥰 consider this part 2 of the pregnancy headcanons~
Warnings: some descriptions/mentions of childbirth/labor pain/blood (not too graphic though!)
LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)
Aragorn
Concern paints your husband's handsome features, furrowing his dark brow and glittering deeply in his blue eyes at your sudden, frantic motions. You are too quiet, too focused. Hiding something, perhaps? "What troubles you?" Aragorn asks, moving to your side, a hand caressing your shoulder as he breathes your name. Eyes widening, you start for a moment before deflating in a sigh. "I think the baby is coming. But I did not wish to worry you until I was certain, until I had more prepared and-" Saying your name, this time a little more firmly and a lot more lovingly, Aragorn takes your hand. "Worry me? Cast all your worries upon me. I am your husband. My heart is yours, and my service. Come, we will go to the healing halls at once."
~
Aragorn smooths your hair, wincing as you cry out and calmly whispering encouragement. He quiets you down as the pain and stress wash over you in nearly blinding waves, your body writhing with each push. Hours pass like this, Aragorn your one anchor until finally, blessedly, your body can fall limp against your sickbed and pant and sigh in relief, the babe proclaimed healthy and taken to be soothed and cleaned. "What a marvel. Truly you prove strength beyond measure every day. Beyond that, I simply love you more every day," he adds with a smile. Leaning up to kiss him, you fix your husband with tired eyes, loving gaze broken only by the midwives' calls. "My king," they say, "a son was born to you! The prince of Gondor!" "A son," you repeat, finally breaking back into a grin as you accept your little boy. Aragorn looks down upon him too with as wide a smile, greeting him in Elvish. "My son," he says, "how loved you are, and how blessed are we your parents. May you grow strong, healthy, happy, our little gift."
Legolas
Even as far as you had gotten, an unspoken fear had crept up between you and your husband until the very day of your labor, but your twins held fast. Such a thought echoed through your mind as much as you could bear to will it between the waves of pain. They held fast, and so would you, your husband at your side stroking your head and holding your hand, whispering calming words in the language of his people. Through tears, you smiled at the beautiful sound, at Legolas's constant reminders that you are strong, you are the most amazing gift the prince has born witness to in hundreds of years. He reminded you to look into his eyes as you were urged to push harder, your hips burning like never before...
~
"A son. A son and a daughter,” Legolas breathed, pulling you and both your twins into a gentle embrace. “And my wife. What more could I desire? Nothing. Nothing indeed.” You feel moisture, realize a tear has slid from Legolas’s eye to your hand, and reaching up you dry his eye before bringing your hand down to stroke the side of his face. You can feel the bags of exhaustion circling your eyes and your whole body aches, but all you can do is smile, smile until your face is just as sore; with your aching pleasure glowing throughout you nuzzle the babe in your arms, your son. “Our dreams are finally reality, Legolas. I would ask for no more either.”
Boromir
"What for it? What can I do?" Boromir is less calm than you expected at your sudden pain, the downward rush you can only assume is the baby coming. Not that you have told him that already. "Let us go to the healers." You try to steady your breathing, praying your water will hold out and break only upon entry to the home of the dear friend you'd selected to aid in your birth. Grateful are you for the grasp of your husband’s hand and the strength with which his arm raises you, tugging you against him for support, even if you feel his heart racing like mad when your hand falls against his chest.
~
For hours you toiled, your body rent and torn in creative horror as Boromir tried his best with jokes and sweet words to keep your wits about you… for far shorter hours than usual in your friend’s words. “I find that hard to believe,” you panted as she cleaned the child. “No, truly that was quite amazing,” your friend shot back, stepping back your way with a bundle in her hands, “We’ve had them take twenty hours before. Five is quite fast I daresay.” Every orifice in your body cried out with pain, so all you could do was incline your head until you raised it again, saw the child in her outstretched arms and felt your lips part in amazement. Eyes still closed, your child groped for you, stilling a bit in satisfaction upon your acceptance, feeling the weight fall and rest gently upon your chest. “Impatient little man and with some fire too! He fought against cleaning quite well.” “Little man?” Boromir’s head snapped so rapidly up to your friend and back to your baby you thought he might snap something. “We have a son?” “Indeed you do, you old dog, you,” she grinned. “It’s a boy!” He shouted gleefully, one hand resting firmly between your son’s and the other cupping your cheek and yanking your lips to smash against his. When Boromir pulled away, he laughed aloud, hearty and triumphant. “Bless him and bless you for giving him to me! I never knew I could be this happy, love!” Your smile widened to match his grin. Suddenly your pain didn’t seem quite so bad.
Gimli
“Push! Push!” “Am I not?!” You reply, uncaring of the raise of your voice or the vice of your hand about your husband’s. For his part and quite in spite of himself, Gimli must laugh, for such was the fire that stole his heart some time ago and the fire from which your newest love was forged- though not without some trouble first. Chip off the ol’ block, indeed! “That’s it, that’s it,” the healer encouraged, “yer doin’ great, lassie!” “Doesn’t feel like it!” Even as he winces in pain by your iron grip, Gimli chuckles again.
~
“A healthy little lad!” Six more hours have passed, but finally he’s in hand and you won’t give him up for anything. Except Gimli- he is the only one to survive your death glares when he reaches for your son, and pushing some hair off his shoulder he gently extends his arms further when you acquiesce. His lips part in an o of endearment and shock at your son, crying moments ago but now laying peacefully in his father's arms. Breaking into a wide smile, Gimli stares down with moist eyes and it is like time is frozen. “My son,” he half-declares, half-sobs. His gaze tears from the babe after a minute or two only to meet yours and bring a wide, triumphant smile to his face. "And most importantly, son of the fairest this earth has yet set forth, she who gave herself that he should be here. You did wonderful, my love. Thank you." "Thank you for being his father," you reply, "and for loving me through it all, even when I was quite ugly about it." "Ah..." Gimli replies diplomatically, "you were in a great deal of pain." Of course he forgives you, he worships the ground you walk on, after all, and you have just gifted him the honor of a son, a little flame all his own! And who, the dwarf suspects with another smile, shall look a lot like his father too!
Frodo
Frodo walked you all the way to the bed and laid you down by himself before he would finally relinquish any care of you to the midwife, despite the fact that he had selected her. You knew it was borne of no distrust of her, however, only a sign of the immense care in his heart he felt for you and the sum of all the kindnesses done upon Frodo in his most difficult years. When you love someone, after all, you carry them up a mountain. You lay them down and take their hand and kiss their forehead, telling them you will never leave them in their greatest pain. Just as your husband now did, just as he spoke upon cradling you close, grip only tightening as you cried out in pain.
~
"You're doing so well," Frodo encouraged during your last pushes, stroking your sweat-beaded forehead, "This is almost over." Indeed it was, for minutes later your final whimper broke Frodo's heart, sending spikes of dread shooting down his spine until a new set of cries stopped them cold. "She's here," the midwife tells you, standing up and fetching the cloths she'd dunked earlier. "A girl," Frodo breathes, "A little girl!" "Our little girl," you agree, reaching out to accept the tiny babe. Frodo's heart melts at her now-calmed face, the way her tiny eyelids flutter and the spray of tiny dark curls already visible on her head. "Hello there," he whispers, "my beautiful little girl. Never did I think my heart could give any more, and yet here it is, doubly taken."
Sam
"What's wrong? You look a little peaky. Here, why don't we-" "Sam, I'm fine. I just think I twisted my- hngh!" Crumpling in half with a grunt of pain you cannot even complete your sentence. Sam is rushing to your side, taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok, you'll see. I'll get the midwife and she'll know everything to do, alright?" Sam's green eyes are warm as ever, his tone the sweetest and most soothing thing you've ever heard and ever will. Despite the waves of pain and the gush you begin to feel soaking the sheets around you, you find yourself nodding and willing up a faint smile.
~
"You're a strong lass, aren't you?" The midwife remarks as Sam returns to the room with more boiled water, looking at you with wonder in her pale blue eyes. Panting, you manage to reply that you suppose so with a faint smile of amusement before being wracked with the pain of another contraction. The only thing that keeps you going is the way your husband is there, leaving only to help you both before tumbling back against the bedframe to grip your hand, never once losing his smile even as you crushed the life out of him. It feels like a lifetime and yet no time before cries fill the room, your head immediately whipping to Sam's and meeting the tears spiling from his kind, loving eyes. "You did it," he whispers your name with awe, kissing your head, then your cheeks sweetly and softly again and again until the midwife is ready with your bundle of joy. "She's beautiful," the older hobbit comments, handing your baby off to you and beaming as you pull your daughter into your chest, loosening her swaddle enough to see her peaceful face. "Lovely," Sam replies, tone even more awed now despite its faint sob, "she looks like her mother. Her mother who worked so hard. Look, she has your hair." "She sure does," you agree, "but I hope she got your eyes." "Nah," he shook his head, "that can be the next one. I love that she's the spitting image. You've earned it after all that, I fear." You laugh at that, still smiling down at your daughter's face, which is still red and calming from her cries of alarm. "That I have. But the only reason I could at all was because of you, Sam." Tears falling anew, he shakes his head one more time. "The thanks are all yours. I knew you could do it all along. It's 'cause of you we have our little beauty."
Merry
"Come on, come on, that's it," Merry coaxed, lowering you down into the squatting position you'd asked for. Inside he was screaming bloody murder, but it was no good letting you know that, not when he had a duty to do and the most important one at that. No indeed, courage was far beyond necessary. Just as he'd had on the battlefield, he was to have with you. For you. Merry only could thank his lucky stars that you began your labor at home while he was there. Once you'd gotten settled, he reluctantly began to pull away his hand from yours, face falling at the way your fingers trembled. "I'm just going to get help. I'll come right back for you." "I know," you whispered with a smile, and just as it had been broken Merry's heart was up and skipping beats.
~
What a good sport the midwife was, for she had been in the middle of her afternoon tea when Merry found her, but never had he seen a napkin thrown down so fast. She rushed with him back to you and found you there still squatting and wincing, this time with sweat beading upon your brow. For hours there you remained, flanked on both sides by husband and midwife, until suddenly your skirts were lifted even further and the lady was calling "He's out!" You cried out in pain and relief and Merry just laughed and gave a big smile before remembering you, looking down at you with great concern. At that, you gave a chuckle of your own. "Sounds like we have a son, Merry." "We have a-" "Certainly you do and quite a big one! Here, you can hold him if you like, but not after the missus has a turn," the midwife cut in, laying your son in your arms. Merry's jaw positively dropped at the sight of him, and he leaned down to speak at once. "Hello there, little one. It's me, your dad. You remember the sound of my voice, don't you?"
Pippin
“Pippin, it’s time.” “Time? Time for what?” You loved your sweet, wonderful, clueless husband, but now was simply not the time. “The baby is coming! Get my supplies, please.” Your command came out as more of a whimper, your face twisting into a grimace at the feeling of moisture trickling down your leg. Water’s broken, then. Pippin caught sight of this, paled, and tore off down the hall, a crash sounding and a handful of stomps before he emerged again, bag slung over his shoulder and a pile of rags in one hand. "You know, for your..." "Yes, I know," you nodded, smiling in faint amusement as he took hold of your arm, barely giving you any time to straddle the rags at all.
~
"Push!" "What am I doing, then?" Your reply shattered Pippin, for it dripped with no sarcasm, only broken tears as you struggled with the pains of labor. The midwife shed a tear of her own, promising you did well, but this went on for hours until suddenly, finally, cries pierced the room's tense air and a massive smile spread across Pippin's face. "You did it!" A loud, triumphant laugh. "You did it, my love!" "She sure did," the midwife agreed, handing the babe off to another older hobbit and chuckling at the way Pippin's open hands followed them. "Don't worry your head off, he's just getting cleaned up." "He? It's a boy! Love, it's a-" "I heard," you grinned, "A little mini-Pippin. Just what I always wanted." "Are- are you joking?" "No," you shook your head, accepting your son with open, grabbing hands, "Not at all. Oh, look, he really does look just like you, too! Oh, Pippin!" Another little Pippin. This time hopefully not one who'll make the same mistakes. No. No, he won't, because he'll have the big one to guide him. And you, oh, his lovely wife... "Pip, are you crying?" "Of course I am," he replied in a quiet, awe-filled voice, leaning to press his curly head to yours, "Our son. Yours and mine. What a glorious gift you've given me. I'm going to work every day to pay you back."
Faramir
Faramir would have given anything to escape the meeting he had become entrenched in, the droning on about some law or another that- Slam! A messenger came bursting in through the door, one of the young page boys whom Faramir had sent notes off with. Rather than pass a message, though, the young man strode right over to his seat and leaned in to whisper to him. Feeling his face contort in shock, then a smile, Faramir rose from the chair at once. “My apologies, gentleman, but my wife has gone into labor. I will review all notes taken at my earliest convenience.” So it seemed the twins inherited their mother’s sense of humor.
~
Watching you strain and hearing your ragged breaths, listening to every cry of pain, stabbed Faramir in the heart with a hurt of his own. He never let go of your hand for a moment, though, despite the ache in those muscles as well. For hours he whispered you words of encouragement, reminding you that you were his hero and that you were doing great, even if it didn’t feel such. And finally your grip was tightening one final time, one final cry of pain as the second twin was born. First your daughter had come. “A girl!” Faramir breathed. “We have a daughter.” And with that last push Faramir himself caught your son. “A son as well. Two beautiful children.” Tears welled up in his eyes, which quickly turned to you as your son was cut free, lifted from his arms, and cleaned. Thumb stroking over the back of your hand, Faramir leaned over, head resting against yours. His stubble tickled your face as he shifted to press a kiss to your cheek. “We got the most difficult one out of our way first, hm?” You joked. Breaking into a tearful grin at your words, Faramir nodded.
Eomer
He should never have agreed to ride out on that patrol, but the others were pushing harder than usual and Eomer knew they trusted him. Trust went far in the Riddermark. Hence his shouts of frustration upon returning to a herald rushing his way and telling him that you had gone into labor. Luckily only about an hour and a half back. He had plenty of time. Running to the halls of healing and all but throwing open the great doors, Eomer barreled in and was met with your smile, then your cry for him, to which he ran to your side and took your hand at once.
~
"It's a boy," he panted hours later, hand aching from your grip and mind fatigued by pained screams, "our son is here." How in this world could you have endured it all if it drained even a bystander so? What a warrior you were. And what a warrior your son would be! Taking in the cleaned babe being placed in your arms, the enamored smile upon his beloved wife's face, the great rush of joy finally overtook him, all pain and exhaustion melting away for a brief moment. "Our son is here!" He called out again, this time louder, more triumphant, and when you spoke it also in your softer tone Eomer pulled you gently by the back of your head into a kiss that spoke volumes, every year of your love story thus far and all of them to come.
Eowyn
The pains of birth were no stranger to your wife; in fact, Eowyn recognized them before you did, cutting into your panic that something was going wrong with the reassurance that things were going quite right. “Our baby is coming,” she told you with a small smile that quickly faded back down when your knees buckled. She was prepared for this, very prepared. Having been forced into work as a nurse for so long had some benefits, after all, and very quickly your things were in hand, your body settled into the most comfortable position possible, and your wife rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair to get to work. Her own child would not be the first she had delivered, simply her favorite by far. Spikes of pressure fought their way up Eowyn’s chest, but just like in the heat of battle they spurred her on and she got to work with renewed courage.
~
“You are doing so well, my love, there we are,” your wife coaxed, “almost done, in fact! Our little one is almost here!” “Really?” You smile widely before your next wince and Eowyn can see her words have encouraged you. You pushed with all you had, and crying out finally forced the head, then finally the whole of your child, out into the world. Eowyn cut the baby free quickly as she could, all her focus tied down to making sure she heard breath before she let herself truly look. At the first call of little lungs she sighed and collapsed down upon her knees, hugging the baby to her chest. “Healthy, perfectly healthy.” Hurriedly cleaning your child, Eowyn saw that you had delivered a girl. “You’ve birthed a healthy girl. We have a daughter, my love!” Hearing you sob, she hurried quickly over to your side. “We both did,” you told her, reaching out to caress your daughter’s reddened cheeks, “Both her mothers birthed her. Where would I be, after all, without you?” It was Eowyn’s turn for tears to fall at your words, smiling as she was when you pulled her close and kissed the crown of her golden head.
Haldir
Long, difficult months had led to the moment of your doubling over with the first pains of birth, hobbling out to where you could find a hand to lead you to the midwives. You were half-knelt at the side of a bed, gripping its post for dear life, when your husband burst in. “Your patrol,” you inquired between waves of pain. “Safely in the hands of another,” Haldir responded, hand groping for one of yours, hastily taking it, “and no, they blame neither of us. Nothing but the pain of death could have separated me from your side.” A smile crossed your face, but moments later another wave of pain split your smile into a cry of agony. “The little ones are coming very rapidly,” one of the midwives told you, “your labor will not be long, at the very least.” At that, you heard Haldir exhale in relief. After such difficultly carrying them, your struggles with the twins would soon abate. Soon they would be in your arms.
~
True to her word, the midwife saw you through every push of labor in just under three hours’ time, one of the fastest she had seen in her many years. Haldir’s grip upon your hand never faltered until the very moment one of the twins was placed wrapped up in his arms. The other held by you, exhausted, shocked, but joyous, tears of relief and celebration flowing. “Two daughters. Two fair and healthy little souls all our own,” Haldir remarked, his voice barely above a whisper and a stunned smile upon his lips as he glanced back your way. The moment your eyes met, tears fell from his, too, and you both let out another exhale in relief; shifting the little one in his arms, Haldir grasped your hand. Smiling up at your husband, despite every strain of pain and exhaustion upon your body, all you could feel was the glow of utter triumph and bliss. “I have said it countless times, I am sure, but you my fair maids have my sword, my word, my heart, my everything,” Haldir told you, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your head, then that of the baby girl in your arms.
Galadriel
How Galadriel managed to remain so calm amidst your heaving breaths and calls of alarm, amidst a healer and midwives forgetting their place and trying to move her from your side, surrounded by bodies and screams and heat and fluid so serene, you would never understand. The way you’d doubled over in the middle of your wife’s vision, failing to smother the choked cry that escaped your lips, and she’d simply risen from the water with wide eyes and a nod, taking your hand. Had she let go? Not as you could recall, though memories blended and faded through great waving curtains of pain. Your strength is beyond admirable, my love. Head swiveling to meet your wife’s intense blue gaze, you smiled faintly. Comparable only to your beauty, her voice teased in your mind. Smile growing, the rush of joy gave you strength for another push…
~
“A daughter,” Galadriel breathes your name, joy permeating every faint crack of her so even voice, “you have borne us a daughter!” You see her extend a hand, accept a cloth you assume shall dry your little one off, but the midwife swipes your newborn for a moment and your wife dabs your tears, then the sweat clinging to your forehead. Setting the small piece of white fabric on the table by your head, Galadriel lets her hand drop down to trace the curve of your cheek, the ring you placed upon her finger some years back on your wedding day sliding over it with a pleasant cool. Your daughter, clean and swaddled, is placed in your arms, and beaming down upon you, your wife takes your hand. “A beautiful gift unlike any this world has seen,” she speaks out loud this time, though it is a whisper, “and surely with a heart as strong as her mother’s.”
Arwen
Pain rushed to you so rapidly it was as though you were stabbed. Crumpling and crying out was how your wife found you, rushing in with skirts held at her sides and dropped just as quickly so Arwen’s hands could close around both of yours, words of worry followed by encouragement whispered between you. Her father was the greatest healer you knew, thus he was to aid in his grandchild’s birth, the first of his family. Elrond was calm when through the veil of your pain you saw your wife bring him into the room, brows faintly furrowed as he pulled back his sleeves. Your hearing practically faded- or was it simply your memory?- as he began giving quiet but firm commands to another elf that followed.
~
Vision blurred with tears, you fell back against the downy pillow, breathing ragged. Much as Lord Elrond could do for you, the pain was still great. "The cord is severed!" You heard him announce and your head snapped back up to see your son in his grandfather's arms, hear him wail as breath filled his lungs. "Our little boy," Arwen grips your arm, grinning down at you, "He is here! Go on, Ada, keep us waiting no longer." Shaking his head at her teasing, Elrond gave you a wide, tearful smile as he lowered your son. Smoothing his dark hair, Arwen gazed down at him with loving eyes before leaning over to you, kissing your lips with such love and joy both of you were smiling into it. "My dearest love, he is so beautiful. Just like his mother."
Elrond
"My lord, your wife-" Lindir needn't say more. Elrond is already gathering up his robes and abandoning entirely the parapet on which he stood, regretting leaving you for a moment even if you had insisted he take some time while you rest. Hurrying down the staircase to your shared room, Elrond finds you sitting bolt upright in bed, brows furrowed and hand resting upon your middle. "I must get to the-" "No," calm as he is, Elrond seems to have developed a habit of interruptions, he thinks, "the midwife will come to you. Lindir?" "Sending for her now, my lord." At Elrond's side, you whimper. All too well does he remember this anguish; nodding, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Lie still. You will be well."
~
Thank the Valar for healing magic; soon your screams melt into whispers shared between you and your husband and winces become faint, tired smiles. Elrond feels the strain of each push upon you, but marvels at your strength, the midwife all but telling you to slow down. "I beg your pardon," you reply, gritting your teeth, "but I must be free of this!" And free you are, for not long later cries fill the air and tears of relief and joy spill down your cheeks. Elrond caresses your face and meets your eyes with a tearful smile; never does this moment stale, in fact nothing in this world can compare. As soon as the bundle is placed in your hands, you hold your newborn out between you, Elrond taking hold and reaching out his other hand, which your daughter grasps. "She looks just like her mother," he tells you with a smile. "But hopefully she inherited her father's wisdom," you tease back with a tired grin.
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hotvintagepoll · 7 months
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Propaganda
Angela Lansbury (The Harvey Girls, The Court Jester, The Manchurian Candidate)—The babe, the myth, the legend. In her own words her early hollywood roles were "a series of venal bitches" and they were all glorious. Half of them wanted to kill you and you probably would have thanked them. She even goes toe to toe with Judy Garland in The Harvey Girls! That said, she was chronically underused and misused during this era - she was just 36 when she was cast as Elvis Presley's mother in Blue Hawaii and a few years later commented that she'd played so many 'old hags' that most people thought she was in her 60s. She thought she was "all talent, no looks" but she was the full package! Post-1970 I hope we all know what an incredibly talented and compassionate badass she was, but I feel like not enough people know her early roles as a hot (often villainous) young thing.
Angie Dickinson (Rio Bravo, Point Blank, Ocean's Eleven)—Though it could be argued that overall her career leans more to TV, during this time period she was splitting movie title credits with the very top names in the business.
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Propaganda for Angie Dickinson:
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Propaganda for Angela Lansbury:
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"Angela Lansbury might not be where your mind goes first when you think of hot leading women, because she had a later career revival. But she began acting in the early 1940s after leaving London due to the Blitz. In the first couple decades of her film career she has an openness about her. She said she never really fit in with the Hollywood crowd and to me she gives off a friendly, untarnished vibe."
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"Most of us know Angela Lansbury as old lady sleuth Jessica Fletcher, but it's important to know that she was smoking hot in her younger days as well as a damned fine actress. Although she didn't get lead roles until her early 40s, at 17 she was a supporting actress in films such as Gaslight (1944), National Velvet (1944), and The Picture of Dorian Grey, for which she won the Golden Globe for best supporting actress and was nominated for the Oscar. Even in her memorable performance as the manipulative mother in The Manchurian Candidate, she is listed as a supporting actress as she does not play the love interest. She was successful both on stage and screen, and won the Tony for her lead role in the musical Mame on Broadway in 1966. TL;DR While Angela Lansbury mostly played supporting roles in films before 1970, she had what it takes to be a leading actress, which we know from her success on stage and tv from the mid 60s onward"
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"She looked like a princess but bit like a viper"
"Is there anything this woman couldn't do? Act in comedy and drama, sing, dance, be a wonderful human being - quite simply a true and wonderful lady."
"god she had such an incredible career all throughout her life really but as a young lady she was just as incredible as she was in her later years. enchanting voice, amazing personality, and absolutely GORGEOUS. she lamented not having the looks to play leads in romance but that idea is so batshit because look at her??? she's one of the most terrific women of all time. also she's my grandmother's favorite actress and i truly get it"
"she is the fairytale princess of my dreams in court jester"
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pedroscurls · 5 days
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welcome to broadway (one-shot)
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summary: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 5.4k warnings: dry humping, suggestive smut (sorry - didn't go explicit in this one!), light dirty talk (this also isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!) a/n: to the anon and @sir-thisisadndserver who both requested a story about broadway, i hope you both enjoyed this!!! (ugh, i wish i could watch the music man in good quality bc he just looks so good in it. but also, hugh in oklahoma! has done things to me... my god, his voice, the curls, just everything.) i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.
THE TABLE READ
You can’t believe it. Lead role of Oklahoma for their anniversary showing. Twenty five years later and while mostly everyone came back except the role of Laurey, you were the only odd one out. You knew what this play entailed, knew exactly how it would end. You also knew that you’d be playing alongside Hugh Jackman, who was reprising his role as Curly. 
You’re excited, yet nervous. Hugh Jackman not only was an amazing movie and television actor, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t watch most (if not all) of his shows on Broadway. His sheer talent truly captivated, yet intimidated you. You don’t know how you will be able to act “normal” around him. He isn’t just talented, but he’s also incredibly attractive. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that. 
You’re the first one seated at the table and notice Hugh is set to sit next to you. You keep your eyes focused on the pages in front of you, trying to calm your nerves and get yourself ready to be in character. You can hear people come in, excitement and laughter filtering the room. You take a deep breath and stand up to introduce yourself. You’re taken aback by how welcoming everyone is and it puts you at ease, your nerves slowly beginning to die down. Everyone’s excitement is infectious, making you feel immensely thankful to be part of this cast. 
Your back is turned to the door, talking to one of the cast members that you don’t realize Hugh Jackman has finally arrived. He’s greeting everyone with a large grin and waves and you don’t notice. Not until you feel a soft touch in the middle of your back. Slowly, you turn around and look up, eyes slightly going wide as you stare up at him. 
He’s staring down at you with such a large smile that it literally makes you feel weak in the knees. Yeah, you don’t know how you’re going to get through this play without fawning over him, especially since your character – Laurey – tries to hide her feelings for Curly for the majority of the play. 
“Hello there,” he says softly, hand extending out for you to take. “I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet yet. I’m Hugh.”
You bite your lower lip and extend your own hand, gently sliding it into his and shaking it slowly. “Hi,” you smile shyly and tell him your name. “It’s an honor to share the stage with you. I’ve been a huge fan.” 
Hugh chuckles, his hand soft and light with yours. He releases your hand and keeps his eyes solely focused on you. “I’m a huge fan as well,” he admits. “I’m glad you get to be my Laurey.” 
My Laurey. You feel your heart rate beat ten times faster, heat rising in your cheeks. “And you, my Curly.” 
He lets out a quiet chuckle, hands moving to his pockets. Hugh finds your energy and presence very calming and despite this being your first ever time on Broadway, he has to commend you for being professional. Though, he can see the excitement that flickers in your eyes. He knows that look, has even donned that same look every time he got on stage. “So, I hear this is your first time?” 
“On Broadway, yeah. Do I seem too nervous?” you laugh, biting your lower lip. “Because if I do, it’s because I am. I’m trying to keep it cool, but to be in a room with all of you? I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to mess up.” 
Hugh’s eyes softened. “Eh, we’re just a group of people who love to perform, including you. We’re all gonna make mistakes along the way, even on opening night, but as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”
You’ve heard stories of Hugh – how he puts people at ease, looks out for everyone in the cast and crew, and right now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. You suddenly feel your nerves disappear under his gaze and for once since finding out that you’d be playing the lead role of Laurey, you feel immense excitement. You’ve never been one to be shy on stage, but knowing that you’d be the new person in this cast instilled anxiety in you. They’ve done this before. They’ve played these same roles. And ultimately, you didn’t want to disappoint any of them.
“Thank you,” you finally reply. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.” 
“Well, if you never need more reassurance, I’m your man.” he winks. 
The theater director calls everyone’s attention, making a short speech at how it’s great to be back and how amazing of a show you were all going to have. You look around the room, seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces before you finally look up at Hugh. You’re surprised because he’s already looking down at you, giving you a reassuring nod as you feel his hand brush against yours. 
The subtle action grounds you, settles the nerves that begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You feel a sudden calmness wash over you as you take a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from him when you hear your name being called. 
“And we have our Laurey,” your theater director says, everyone clapping and cheering for you. “Welcome,” he says with a grin. “We’re lucky to have you.” 
You smile in his direction, nodding at everyone else in the room. “Glad to be part of this amazing cast,” you reply, everyone continuing to clap before it begins to slow down. 
“And our Curly,” the theater director continues, nodding towards the man standing next to you. “We’re all so excited that you’re here to reprise your role. It’s gonna be a great show.”
Once the theater director finishes his speech, everyone in the room takes their respective seats. Hugh pulls out your chair for you and you smile up at him, sitting down as he pushes it in for you. 
“Thank you,” you tell him.
“Anytime,” he winks. 
Throughout the table read, you finally feel at ease, comfortable in your element as you change your accent to reflect your character’s. Hugh changes his own and how lucky of you to get a front seat of his skill and talent. He turns to you, saying his lines at the beginning of the play. “On'y she talked so mean to me a while back, Aunt Eller, I'm a good mind not to take her.”
He’s staring at you with a charming smile, leaning back against his seat with his eyes staring into yours. 
You then say your line, rolling your eyes with your arms crossed over your chest. “Ain't said I was goin'!” 
Hugh then says his line almost immediately, “Ain't ast you!”
There’s a silence that engulfs the entire room as you two stare at each other. He’s still staring at you with a big grin and you with a frown on your face and eyes narrowed. You’re surprised at how much chemistry you already have with him, how easy it is to slip into the role of Laurey and exchange lines with him without any issue. 
As the table read continues, you can’t help but take notice of Hugh’s presence next to you. The scene where you kiss approaches and you know that it isn’t going to happen here, today, but to know that you will eventually have to kiss him makes you nervous, but also very excited. 
By the time the table read ends, a few hours have passed and everyone claps. The theater director dismisses all of you, saying that rehearsals will begin next week. You begin to pack your things before you feel Hugh gently reach a hand out to rest over your forearm. 
“You did great,” he says. “And to think you were nervous?” 
“I was,” you laugh quietly. “But I guess you helped ease my nerves.”
“I did, huh?” he smiles proudly. “Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.” 
You shake your head, standing up from the table and seeing him follow suit. “I was wondering–”
“Do you think we should–” 
You both say simultaneously, both letting out a quiet laugh. “You first,” you tell him, gazing up at him. 
Hugh smiles, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Would you be okay with exchanging numbers? We can go over lines sometime when we’re not in rehearsal to get more practice in.”
You’re trying to contain your excitement, trying to remain calm and collected, so you give him a nod and then reach for your phone. “I was thinking the same thing. Here,” you hand him your phone and see him give you his. “Maybe we can meet up for coffee later this week?” 
Hugh smiles, typing in his number into your phone. “That’d be great. I know a perfect place.” 
You smile to yourself and type in your number before handing his phone back to him and taking your phone from him. “Perfect,” you respond, putting your phone back into your bag. “And if I get nervous at all–”
“Feel free to text me. Or call me.” Hugh finishes for you. “Like I said, I’m your man.” 
“Thanks, Curly,” you grin, changing your accent to reflect Laurey. “That’s mighty kind’a you.” 
Hugh chuckles, his eyes twinkling in the light as he smiles down at you. “Anythin’ for ya, Laurey.” 
REHEARSALS
The rehearsals have become more frequent as the date of opening night looms closer. You and Hugh have spent so much time together outside of rehearsals, either you coming by to his place or him coming to yours. Your relationship with him has blossomed in the span of a few months, feeling much more comfortable and confident around him. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself catching feelings for him. You wonder if it’s because of the nature of the role you’re playing, being the love interest of his and the fact that you both have rehearsed the kiss and dances multiple times. 
Though, you can’t help but notice the frequent texts and calls from him that have nothing to do with the play, or the way he lingers around you, some part of him always needing to touch you – on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, your hand. It all seems innocent enough, but with each touch, with each lingering gaze, you feel more and more attracted to the possibility that maybe the feelings are mutual.
Today, it’s only you and Hugh in rehearsals, practicing the dance in the dream sequence. You’ve both gone over the dance plenty of times today, both drenched in sweat. You take a short break, sitting down on the floor as your back rests against the wall. You take a long swig of water before Hugh takes a seat next to you, his side flush against yours. 
“Hey you,” he says, smiling in your direction. “You really know how to push me,” Hugh chuckles. “And I thought I was the hardest worker. You definitely make me look like I’m not doing enough,” he teases. 
You roll your eyes, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh please, I’m only pushing you because you’re pushing me.” 
“What do you say?” Hugh asks. “One more rehearsal and we call it a night? Grab a bite to eat at my place?” 
“That sounds amazing,” you sigh in relief. “I’d have kept going if you hadn’t said anything.” 
Hugh chuckles, moving an arm around your shoulders as you lean into him. “You know, you can tell me to slow down. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”
“I know,” you reply. “I just wanna prove to you and everyone else that I’m meant to be here.”
Hugh tilts his head. “You are meant to be here. You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says your name, eyes gazing into yours. “And this is just the beginning for you.” 
“Yeah, we’ll see after opening night,” you chuckle. 
“Not only are you talented,” Hugh says. “But you also love being on stage. Everyone can see it, can feel it. The audience will too. Now, get off your ass and let’s finish this dance.” He smiles, standing up and reaching out for you. 
You chuckle, taking his hands and standing up with his help. Your hands immediately dart out to rest on his shoulders, bodies flush against each other as your nose brushes against his. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. “For always reassuring me. I’m sure it’s exhausting.”
Hugh’s eyes never leave yours as one hand moves to rest on your lower back and the other takes your hand in his. “Not exhausting at all, baby,” he replies, his breath fanning over your lips. 
You clear your throat at the pet name, biting your lower lip as the music begins to play. You take a deep breath, trying to snap out of the trance that he put you in to focus on the dance sequence. Your gaze never leaves his as you both move across the dance floor. It was that specific moment where you were sure that he felt the same way. 
After rehearsals, you drive to Hugh’s place and see him step out of his car with a box of pizza. He leads you inside and walks into the kitchen, sitting at the table. You walk over to him and sit next to him, inhaling the aroma of food once he opens the box. 
“God, I feel like I can eat this whole thing,” you chuckle, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You’ve always felt comfortable around Hugh and you have to wonder if it’s because of him, how calm and grounded he makes you feel. You’re continuing to eat, eyes falling shut as you sway your body in the seat, just happy to be eating something. 
Hugh watches you with a loving gaze, eyes scanning your face as he stares at you. He certainly didn’t expect you to come into his life the way you did. It’s no secret that he gets along with everyone and has chemistry with every leading lady in his roles, but you… You’re a completely different story. He finds your passion to perform refreshing and your talent invigorating. Not only are you professional, but he appreciates your ability to put your all into each performance, even though it’s only rehearsal. It gets him excited to know that come opening night, everyone will know just how talented you are. 
He’s taken out of his thoughts when he sees you open your eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow. 
“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.
Hugh smiles, eyes lowering to your lips as he sees pizza sauce at the corner of your lips. He also loves the fact that you’re not shy around him. He reaches up and wipes the pizza sauce from your lips with the pad of your thumb, staring into your eyes. “You’re a messy eater when you’re hungry.” 
The heat in your cheeks rises once again as you set the pizza slice down to grab a napkin, wiping your mouth. “You should have fed me during our break earlier.” 
Hugh chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t break the gaze, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips and licking the pizza sauce from it. He sees your eyes dip down to his lips, hearing you quietly clear your throat as you bite your lower lip. 
“You’re cute, you know that?” Hugh blurts out, head tilting as he stares into your eyes. 
You roll your eyes and gently reach out to shove his shoulder. “Yeah right.”
Hugh chuckles, leaning forward in your space. “You are,” he whispers. “And there’s just something about you. I can’t put my finger on it…”
“Hmm…” you say quietly, eyes continuously darting to his lips. “Hugh…”
“Yeah, baby?” he says lowly. 
“Is this–” you whisper. “Is this appropriate?” 
Hugh then leans back, shrugging a shoulder. “Probably not,” he admits. “But I can’t be the only one who feels something between us…”
You look up at him, wanting to reach out for him, to pull him back closer, but you don’t. You’ve wanted him for months now, wanted this moment to happen for so long, but you couldn’t. You just didn’t know how things would change if you were both to cross that boundary… Even though you’ve both probably crossed so many lines already. 
“You aren’t,” you admit. “I want this just as badly as you, but–”
“Not yet,” he finishes for you. “After the play.”
You nod. “I just don’t know what’d happen if we do this while we’re still in production… I’ve waited for a few months, another few won’t hurt, right?”
Hugh bites his lower lip and shrugs. “Might hurt me,” he teases. “I mean, we’ve kissed already as Curly and Laurey. But I’d love to just kiss you as… As me.” 
“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you say quietly, slowly leaning into him. “But that’s all we can do.” 
Hugh nods and stands up from the chair to pull you up into him. The lights from the city reflect off his large windows as his hand rests on your lower back and the other on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours. 
“If we do this,” he whispers lowly. “There’s no going back.” 
“Fine with me,” you answer. “Now kiss me already.” 
Hugh grins and then presses his lips against yours, fingertips resting on the back of your neck. You’ve both kissed so many times already, but this time feels so much more different. Your lips move against his own, hands moving to grip his arms. Hugh walks you back into his window, feeling the glass press against your back as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip. Your lips part for him and he slides his tongue past your lips, hearing you whimper as a result. 
The kiss deepens as tongues get involved, lips moving with more urgency against one another. You’re about to bring your leg up to hook around his hip, but you stop yourself, moving your hands to his chest and slowly pulling him away. Breathless and panting. 
Hugh rests his forehead against yours, eyes remaining shut. “I’d say that was a great real first kiss,” he laughs quietly. 
“Waiting for a few more months might prove to be tough,” you admit, moving your hands into his hair and tangling your fingers into his locks. 
Hugh chuckles and pecks your lips softly, pulling back to look down at you. “Maybe we don’t go the full distance… yet.” 
“What do you have in mind?” you ask, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him with desire filled in your orbs. 
“Come on.” Hugh takes your hand and leads you to his couch, sitting down against it and pulling you down onto him. You straddle his hips, clearing your throat as you feel his manhood press against your core. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips, leaning his head up slightly to capture your lips once more. 
“This okay?” he mumbles against your lips.
“More than okay,” you answer, beginning to move your lips with his. Without hesitation, you roll your hips against his own. You’re wearing leggings and he’s wearing sweatpants and while the fabric isn’t as thick as jeans, it’s still too much clothing for you because you need to feel more. You need to feel all of him. 
Hugh groans against your lips, feeling his manhood begin to stir awake at the friction. His hands slowly move upwards, underneath your shirt as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your skin. He leans up to gently bite at your lower lip, your moan escaping your lips. 
You apply more pressure when your hips roll against his, his length hardening and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, an anticipation settling into the pit of your stomach. You don’t know how you would wait another few months before fully feeling him inside of you since this sneak peek wasn’t helping. Instead, you’re yearning for more.
Hugh pulls away from the kiss only to place gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands continuing to move up your back, his fingertips brushing against your sports bra and back down to your lower back. The pressure in his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to rip your leggings off your legs and slam into you, but he has to show some restraint.
You tilt your head slightly for him, exposing more of your neck as you feel his lips and his scruff brush against one of your many hot spots. You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders. 
“Hugh,” you moan quietly. When you feel his teeth graze your skin, you have to pull back to look down at him. Your chest is heaving and you’re almost breathless. “Mmm, if we don’t stop,” you whisper. “I won’t be able to control what will happen next.” 
Hugh smirks, licking his lips slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let me just…” Hugh gently sets you down next to him, readjusting himself in his sweatpants and the action doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see the obvious tent in his pants and his hand grasping himself to adjust his hardening length into a much more comfortable position. You can see the outline of his manhood, feeling your throat go dry at the sight. He’s long and thick and you have to peel your eyes away from him to avoid just settling yourself on your knees between his legs. 
Hugh watches you, eyes taking in your frame from top to bottom. It doesn’t help lessen the pressure in his pants because it only just makes him harder. “I’m actually going to…” he begins, pointing down to the center of his sweatpants. “I’m gonna take care of this. Will you be okay for a bit?” 
You clear your throat. The thought of being under the same roof as Hugh as he’s jerking himself off to the thought of you excites you. “Y— Yeah, I’ll be, um…” you bite your lower lip. “I’ll be here.” 
Hugh nods and then leans over to kiss your cheek, lips brushing against your ear. “If I had it my way, you’d be the one helping me take care of this.”
You shiver against his words and look up at him. “And if I had it my way, I’d drop to my knees in front of you to take care of it.”
Hugh growls, the sight of you on your knees now fully ingrained in his mind. “Great,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna keep that in mind while I…” he points towards his lower half. “While I handle this.” Hugh then stands up from the couch and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, allowing you to lie down on the couch and letting out an exasperated sigh. 
“It’s gonna be a long few months,” you mutter to yourself.
OPENING NIGHT
You feel the nerves begin to build as you’re all getting ready to perform for opening night. You and the rest of the cast and crew are all ready to perform, but you… You’re anxious. You’re nervous. You’re afraid that you’re going to mess up, so when Hugh rests a hand on your lower back, you look up at him with a tense look on your face. 
“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “Just have fun.”
You nod, feeling his hand drop from your lower back and you reach for it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Okay,” you say. “Just have fun,” you repeat. 
“Exactly. Let’s have a great show, yeah?” Hugh reassures. “And after this,” he whispers, lowering enough so that his lips hover against your ear. “We can finally go back to my place and take the next step.” 
That makes you stand straighter. You had been so focused on making sure that your performance was perfect as opening night approaches that you and Hugh hadn’t had an intense, passion-filled night since the night you had your first kiss with him. 
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he pulls away with a wink. “You know just the right things to say,” you chuckle. 
Hugh grins. “I knew that’d get you excited.” 
You feel your nerves begin to settle as the curtain begins to rise, knowing that Hugh’s character begins the play with a song Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’. 
Throughout the play, you feel at ease once you step on stage, easily slipping into character. The back and forth banter between your character and Hugh’s are filled with a hidden and unspoken passion that you have for each other. Despite the roles you’re both playing, you can feel the tension and excitement bubbling within you as the play continues. 
Just another hour and then you and Hugh can finally have the moment you both were waiting for. 
Your first time on Broadway proves to be more than what you expected and you love it. Being on stage, under the bright lights, with a cast and crew that has the same excitement and passion as you makes you aware of the fact that this is truly where you’re meant to be. You couldn’t believe that you had questioned yourself at the beginning of all of this. 
After the scene where Laurey fires Jud, you know what’s coming. The kiss with Curly, followed by the marriage proposal. Once your lips touch Hugh’s, it’s filled with so much passion and relief. Part of you has to wonder if it’s because the characters, Curly and Laurey, finally admitting the love they have for each other, or if it’s because the end of the play is nearing. 
And it isn’t until you pull away that you see a fleeting familiarity flicker in Hugh’s eyes, a grin lining his lips. Throughout the next scenes, you’re both side by side, basked in the joy of being newlyweds and you know there’s a scene where Hugh is shirtless with suspenders. You are both backstage, getting ready for the next scene as you see him flex his arms subconsciously. 
You’ve seen him shirtless before, but right now, there’s something about the sight that makes an immediate wetness pool between your legs. When Hugh looks over at you, he gives you a wink, knowing exactly that you were just checking him out. 
Throughout the rest of the play, as it nears the end, you can’t help the excitement that bubbles within you. It isn’t until the end of the play that Hugh’s touch becomes more urgent, like he’s just as ready to leave with you. Each person with a pivotal role is introduced at the end as they bow towards the audience. 
However, it isn’t until your name is called that the entire audience’s cheers become much louder. You walk towards the edge of the stage and bow, smiling and waving as they give you a standing ovation. You look back at your cast, back at Hugh, who all are clapping for you. 
It was a perfect night and you know it’s only beginning. 
You and Hugh join the rest of the cast for a celebratory after party, having changed into much more comfortable clothing. You’re both at other ends of the room, but while you’re each in a conversation with someone else, your gaze is locked on one another. 
It isn’t a secret that you’re attracted to each other, but tonight, it’s completely obvious. Hugh’s eyes move along your frame slowly and under his gaze – even from afar – it excites you. You look at the time, knowing that it’s already so late and you’re ready to leave. With Hugh. 
You make your rounds, saying goodbye to everyone until you reach Hugh. He excuses himself from the person he was speaking to and meets you halfway, eyes filled with anticipation. 
“I’m heading out,” you say softly. 
“Meet at my place?” Hugh asks.
You bite your lower lip and nod. “I’ll see you there.”
Hugh then reaches out for his phone and sends you a text. You pull out your phone and see a four digit number, furrowing a brow in confusion. “What’s this?”
“The code to get into my place,” Hugh confirms. “If you get there before me, feel free to let yourself in.”
You smile to yourself and then reach up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “It was a great night, Curly.” 
Hugh’s arm tightens around your frame as he shuts his eyes, whispering into your ear. “And it’s only just starting, Laurey.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulls away completely. “I’ll see you in a bit, baby.” 
You leave the party and make your way to your car, anticipation simmering in your depths. You drive to Hugh’s house, knowing that you’d get there before him. So, when you enter the four digit code the gave you, you see the gates open and you drive into his driveway, the garage opening up for you. 
Just a few minutes after you park, Hugh pulls in behind you. You step out of your car and look over at him, seeing him turn off the headlights once he puts his car in park. He climbs out and strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist immediately. Without allowing you to speak, he dips down and presses his lips against yours, moving them eagerly against yours. 
“Mmm,” you whimper, feeling his hand move to your backside as he gently squeezes it into his hand. 
“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you. “I’ve been waiting for months for this,” Hugh chuckles. 
You nod and take his hand, following him inside his home. You don’t get far because you lead him to his living room where you push him back onto his couch and you straddle his hips like the first night you shared your first real kiss with him. 
He doesn’t waste any time in removing your shirt though, growling at the sight of you completely exposed for him, having decided on not wearing a bra. Hugh feels drunk off of you, his mind swirling with the immense thoughts and ideas of what he wants to do to you tonight. He knows he won’t get a chance to do them all in one night, but he just isn’t sure what to do first. He wants to taste you, wants to be head first between your legs. But he also wants to feel your walls wrapped around him, milking him to his own release. 
But your moans… your moans pull him out of his thoughts and he’s suddenly very aware of the look on your face. The heat in your cheeks. Your parted lips. Your breaths coming in short pants. You want this just as bad as he does and it only excites him further. 
“You did amazing tonight, baby,” Hugh says softly, hands coming up to brush against you. 
You whimper, looking deeply into his eyes. “Thank you,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as his thumbs brush against your peaks. “Hugh…” you moan quietly. 
“I know, baby. I know… Let me take care of you.” 
Throughout that night, you barely got any sleep, but when you did, you were completely spent. Hugh had helped you reach your climax more times than you can count and that had never happened before. He was so generous, so considerate, but it was only because he yearned for the sounds that escaped your lips. Loved to see you squirm against his touch, enjoyed the sight of your eyes fluttering when he finally entered you. 
Hugh knew he wanted more. Needed more. He felt like a possessed man once he finally got that first taste of you. You unleashed something almost animalistic in him – the desire to see you come undone. The first time it happened that night, Hugh was in absolute awe. The way you arched your back, lips apart, body squirming against his mattress and a loud moan escaping your lips… it made Hugh want more of that. Want more of you. 
And he was certainly going to get it, that he was sure of.
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d-targaryenshoe · 1 month
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Love Of Tomorrow - Colin Bridgerton
Word count: 968
Summary: How becoming a father can change a man's feelings, quite strange is it not?
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The first light of dawn crept through the heavy curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room.
Colin Bridgerton lay on his back, head propped on pillows, gazing at the two people who had become his entire world.
Beside him, you, his beloved wife, slept peacefully, your hair spread across the pillow like a halo.
Nestled between you, in a tiny cradle of blankets, was your newborn son, a perfect bundle of warmth and innocence.
Colin’s heart swelled with an emotion so profound he could hardly find words for it.
He had always imagined what it might be like to become a father, but nothing had prepared him for the sheer depth of love and protectiveness that surged through him every time he looked at his child.
The baby, with its tiny, delicate features and the softest skin, seemed almost too perfect to be real.
Every breath his son took, every little noise he made, felt like a miracle.
Colin gently brushed his fingers over the baby’s tiny hand.
The infant stirred slightly but did not wake.
Colin marveled at the small fingers, so perfectly formed, and felt a lump in his throat.
He couldn’t believe that this little life was his to care for, protect, and love.
You stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open.
You smiled softly as you took in the sight of your husband gazing down at your child.
“You’re still awake,” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep.
Colin turned to you, his eyes shining with happiness. “I can’t seem to take my eyes off him,” he confessed, his voice filled with awe.
You smiled and reached out to touch his cheek. “I know the feeling,” you said softly. “But you need to rest too, Colin. You’ve barely slept since he was born.”
Colin shook his head. “I don’t want to miss a single moment,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m missing something.”
Your heart melted at his words.
You had always known that Colin would make a wonderful father, but seeing him now, so completely and utterly in love with your son, filled you with a happiness that you could hardly contain.
“Why don’t you hold him for a bit?” you suggested, your eyes twinkling with affection.
Colin hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “Are you sure? What if I wake him up?”
You chuckled softly. “He's your son, Colin. He's used to your voice, your touch."
"Besides,” you added with a mischievous grin, “you’re going to have to get used to holding him at some point.”
Colin nodded, though he still looked a little apprehensive.
Carefully, he reached out and lifted the baby from the cradle of blankets, cradling the tiny body against his chest.
The baby made a small noise but then settled back into sleep, the tiny head resting against Colin’s heart.
Colin felt a surge of emotion so intense it took his breath away.
Holding his son in his arms, feeling the soft rise and fall of his tiny chest, he felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility.
This little life was so fragile, so precious, and it was up to him to keep him safe.
You watched him, your heart full.
You could see the love and wonder in Colin’s eyes, and it made you love him even more.
You had always admired Colin’s carefree spirit, his sense of adventure, and his boundless energy.
But seeing him now, so gentle and tender with your child, made you realize just how deep his capacity for love truly was.
“You’re a natural,” you whispered, your voice full of admiration.
Colin looked up at you, his eyes shining with gratitude. “I don’t know about that,” he said, his voice tinged with humility. “But I’m going to do my best.”
You smiled and leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips. “You’re going to be an amazing father,” you said with certainty.
Colin smiled back at you, his heart full. “And you,” he said softly, “are already an amazing mother.”
You blushed slightly at the compliment, but your eyes sparkled with happiness.
You had always known that motherhood would be challenging, but having Colin by your side made everything feel possible.
For a while, you simply sat there in the quiet of the early morning, taking in the wonder of your new family.
The world outside could wait.
At this moment, everything you needed was right here, in this room.
As the sun continued to rise, filling the room with a warm, golden light, Colin felt a deep sense of contentment settle over him.
This was his life now, and he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
Every adventure, every journey he had ever taken, had led him to this moment, to this little family that he loved more than anything in the world.
“I think we should stay in bed all day,” Colin said suddenly, his voice filled with a playful determination.
You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what about your duties? Your responsibilities?”
Colin shook his head. “Nothing is more important than this,” he said, his voice firm. “I want to spend every possible moment with you and our son.”
You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man you had married. “Then it’s settled,” you said with a grin. “We’ll stay in bed all day.”
Colin beamed at you, his heart light with happiness.
He leaned over and kissed you, a sweet, lingering kiss that spoke of all the love he felt for you.
When you finally pulled apart, Colin settled back against the pillows, holding your child close.
As the day went on, the three of you stayed in bed, wrapped up in each other and in the joy of your new family.
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mountainsandmayhem · 9 months
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You’re Mine, Little Dove
(Joel Miller x Female!Reader) 18+
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Summary: You’ve always loved walking at night, but an unexpected visitor goes from the most terrifying to most erotic night of your life.
TW: predator/prey dynamics, ropes, blindfolding, gagging, non consent, consensual non consent, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby girl etc.)
A/N: I can’t say much without giving anything away, but this scene has been so fun for me to write. I’m tagging @untamedheart81 @beboldbebravethings @rav3n-pascal22 and @spookyxsam since you 4 wonderful people had such amazing support for my last story. And because delulu is the solulu, I’m also tagging @swiftispunk and @thetriumphantpanda because they’re both incredible creators and I truly admire their work.
🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍
You’ve always loved the night, and since getting promoted at work walking in the dark has become your way of winding down. Your friends think you’re crazy, blabbing on about how it’s dangerous and you shouldn’t be out there alone. One even suggested buying really dark sunglasses and walking during the day. You all laughed at that as you sipped rosé, but it’s not the same. For one, the summer sun in Texas is way too hot most days, but it’s also too “peopley” during the day. You want the solitude and quiet that comes with the dark.
All day you’re interrupted and expected to do things outside of your lane. Take work for example, today you were asked to take meeting minutes for a meeting that the team you lead isn’t even a part of. You lead a team, and have an assistant of your own who takes meeting notes, doesn’t that team lead have an assistant who can do that?
Probably not. He’s an arrogant prick, you think to yourself. But he’s the boss's son so he gets away with it. And because of that, you agree. You always fucking agree. Always happy to help, never saying no.
Here in the night though, it’s just you. The night doesn’t ask you to do anything but sleep, which you will do after enjoying the cooler summer air on your skin as you wander through the park behind your house.
There’s also a slight edge of danger to it that entices you. The park is well-lit, but who knows what could happen in the darkness between the casts of yellow light from lamppost to lamppost. Those darker spots might be your favourite, just a few steps away from the safety of the light.
You stop in one of those dark spots, closing your eyes and tilting your head up to the sky, taking a big cleansing breath in.
Silence. Calm. Peace.
You hold your breath for a few seconds, silence ringing in your ears before you slowly exhale. Just before you open your eyes, two strong arms wrap around you. A hand clamps over your mouth, the other arm other snakes tightly around your waist, pinning your arms down with it.
Silence, calm, and peace, were quickly replaced with fear, terror, and panic.
A solid wall of a person leads you to the grassy, non-lit areas of the park and you realize you have never known fear before. The fun fear of a roller coaster or haunted house, yes; but never true heart-stopping fear. Your stomach drops and everything inside you is yelling to fight.
“Don’t scream, little dove.” A deep voice rumbles through you. If it wasn’t for his massive form holding you up, you’re sure you’d fall over.
This doesn’t happen here. This is a safe neighbourhood where you know all your neighbours. For a second you think it’s a joke, someone sneaking up on you that you know, but it’s almost midnight on a Wednesday. Who would be up at this point?
As he pulls you along your fear evolves into terror. You’re frantically trying to catch your breath through your nose as every happy memory floods through you. The sparkly pink bike you got when you were six. The first time you saw white sand and crystal clear blue waters. Watching your best friend get engaged. How proud your parents looked when you got promoted last year. What was the last thing you even said to your parents?
His strong frame forces you to the grass. He places a knee on your back, holding you down as he ties your hands with a scratchy rope. Your mouth is free as your forehead rests on the grass.
Scream. Now.
You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Why can’t you scream or at least look back at him to see who he is so you can describe him to the police?
Oh god, what if he doesn’t let you go?
Just as you open your mouth to try to scream again he gags you and then blindfolds you. You’re pretty sure it’s done with silk ties, but you really can’t be sure.
“Good job, little dove.” He coos in your ear as he helps you up. “You’ll be rewarded for keeping quiet.”
He leads you through more of the grassy fields. You try to map out which house you’re headed toward in your mind’s eye until you’re interrupted by the sound of crunching gravel under your shoes. You assume you’re in an alley or street as you hear the clicking of a car door.
Your overly conservative father's voice comes into your head. “You can’t go out dressed like that. Boys will get the wrong idea. You’re inviting them to take advantage of you.”
That was years ago. You’re an adult woman now, with a degree and a mortgage. You know your clothing isn’t an excuse for this man’s abhorrent behaviour, but maybe you should have changed from your denim skirt and tight black top.
As you hear the vehicle door open the panic begins. Your breath comes in shorter and shallower, and it feels like your heart is thumping in your throat. You’re sure your captor can hear it, or at least feel it through the skin of your bicep that he’s gripping so tightly. A whimper escapes you as he hoists you into a back seat and slams the door.
“Don’t cry, little dove.” He says from the front as he starts the engine. “It’ll only entice me.”
Fuck. Fuck. You’re dead. Or trafficked. How could you not have screamed?! You let him take you, but did you stand a chance either way? You could feel his chest on the back of your head when he grabbed you, he was probably a foot taller than you. His strong hand was large enough to practically cover your whole face. He was the predator…you were the prey.
You calm your breathing and focus on the turns the vehicle takes as it pulls out of your neighbourhood, not letting the tears fall, you refuse to give him that sort of satisfaction.
It feels like you’ve been driving for hours before you finally come to a stop. He hasn’t said anything from the front seat. No music played. As he turns off the car you can hear the sound of a garage door closing. You’re royally fucked.
The door near your feet opens and you scramble to the other side of the vehicle as your instincts to fight ignite. A strong hand grabs your ankle and pulls you forward. You kick blindly with your other leg, screaming through the silk that’s wedged between your teeth. He catches your other ankle, squeezing them both together with one hand and binds them together.
He hoists you over his shoulder and lays a hard spank across your ass, eliciting a squeal as the walls of your pussy clench a little. “Behave, little dove,” he says cockily. You can’t see him, but you know he’s smirking over how easily he overpowered you.
You try to say ‘fuck you’ through your gag.
“Oh, I intend to.” He says as he takes you inside and up the stairs.
He drops you down on a bed and undoes the gag. “Tell me your name.”
“Touch me again and I’ll rip your dick off.” You spit.
He chuckles a little while straddling you and lifting the hem of your shift, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. “I love it when my little doves talk dirty to me.”
He places light kisses along your skin and you squirm to try to get free, but his large frame has you trapped and your arms and legs are useless if they’re bound. A deep moan from his chest shoots straight to your core, sending a new wave of arousal as your body starts to betray you.
“You’re a fucking coward,” you say with as much hate as you can muster, trying to ignore the want that’s spreading through your traitorous body.
He lifts your shirt higher, exposing all the skin between your bra and denim skirt, continuing to place soft kisses and light nibbles along your skin.
“I only want to make you feel good, little dove.” He says in a husky whisper, “How does that make me a coward?”
God dammit he feels so warm against you. You push his soft lips and deep soothing voice out of your mind and focus back on the fear, terror and panic you felt earlier.
“Capturing someone in the night. Binding them. Real men aren’t afraid of the fight.” Taunting him is incredibly risky, but if you entice him enough he might untie you and you can fight like hell to get free. He couldn’t have taken you far.
His kisses cease. You almost let out a whimper of protest at him stopping. Are you this desperate for touch? You have a boyfriend.
“Is that what you think, little dove?” He shifts to be straddling your hips, leaning forward with both forearms on either side of your face. He brushes away some hair that has stuck to your lips. “That I’m not a real man?”
You can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach as you try to squirm free. “Yes, you’re fucking pathetic.”
His lips move to your neck. Wet kisses moving from your ear to your collarbone. You’ve always been a sucker for neck kisses and with sight being taken away, your sense of touch seems heightened. Shit, his lips feel good and at this proximity, you catch a faint smell of leather and cedar. He trails his tongue back up before gently biting your earlobe.
Fuck, a small shiver runs down your back and your breath hitches as you squeeze your thighs together.
“I’ll make you a deal, little dove,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “If you can keep your breathing steady for the next 5 minutes, I’ll untie you and remove the blindfold.”
You feel dizzy by the closeness and gentleness of him. “And if I can’t?” You breathe.
“If you can’t…I’ll untie your ankles and remove the blindfold. I have a feeling you have beautiful eyes.”
You swallow hard, contemplating your options. He kidnapped you. He doesn’t have your consent to any of this, but based on the wetness that is now coating your thighs, your body doesn’t seem to get the same message.
You take a deep breath before saying, “Deal.”
Before the word has fully left your lips, he’s ripped your tank top completely open. His fingers work the front clasp on your bra as he whispers that he’s sorry about your shirt and starts placing hungry kisses down your neck. Your breasts are completely exposed to him, the cool air turning your nipples into stiff peaks.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He says as he cups both your breasts. His tongue swipes along the left nipple as his thumb caresses the smooth skin underside of the right one.
You remind yourself that he kidnapped you and try not to let your body and breathing betray you, but your thighs squeeze tighter for relief and your mind is swimming.
His tongue swipes harder before he moves over to the right one, sucking it into his mouth and rolling the other between his fingers.
He’s playing you like a fiddle. How does he seem to know exactly what you like?
He releases your nipple with a pop before gently blowing cool air on it. He latches back onto the left one, swirling with his tongue and your hips involuntarily buck forward as your breath stutters.
“Good girl, little dove.” He says with a low growl, coming back up to be face to face. “Looks like I win. Your hands stay tied, but I’ll free your ankles and take off the blindfold.”
His minty breath hits your nostrils. Fuck, my hands!! How could you have forgotten about your hands? Shit. You can’t believe you let this monster make you feel good.
He slips the blindfold off and you blink a few times, adjusting to the dimly lit room and taking in the man on top of you. Fuck, monster he is not. His curly dark hair is pushed back and you can see some salt and pepper around the temples. He has patchy facial that you couldn’t even feel when he was kissing you, he was being much more gentle than you thought. He’s handsome and rugged…if anything, this man is your type.
“I was right,” he says, his deep brown eyes staring right into you. “You do have beautiful eyes.”
Now that he sees you as a person, you might be able to elicit some sympathy.
“P-please let me go.” You say, holding in tears.
He tilts his head to one side, a small smile revealing a dimple that makes you melt a little. “Let you go? We’ve only just started, little dove.”
The fear starts to come back again as he shifts to untie your ankles. “Please don’t do this.”
He kisses up your thighs and speaks between kisses. “Sshhhh…let me make you feel good and then you can go home.”
You should kick or flail or do something, you had your best chance just seconds ago, but his warm, soft kisses had you too distracted. You start to think this man wouldn’t actually hurt you. But he is hurting you by forcing you to be here in the first place, isn’t he?
You look down at him to see him lying beside you, head propped in one hand near your hip as the other trails up and down your legs. His features are soft, eyes wholly focused on the tiny goosebumps he’s leaving on his skin. His hand slips between your thighs and tries to part your legs, you’re suddenly unsure if you’re squeezing them together to ease the throbbing of your clit or out of fear.
“Open your legs for me, little dove.” He says as he kisses the tops of your thighs.
You shake your head as the tears you were holding in roll down your cheeks. He’s right near your knees now, you could draw one up into his jaw, but those big chocolate eyes are looking up at you so lovingly.
He get up, walks towards the end of the bed and grabs your ankles. Like the flip of a switch, his look turns harsh and angry before he pulls you to the edge of the bed. Your skirt hikes up around your waist from the motion and he licks his lips as he wedges his body between your knees, spreading you apart enough for him to see you glistening for him.
“Tsk, tsk.” He says while shaking his head and lowering himself slowly between your legs. “Walking alone at night, in this little skirt with no panties?”
He lowers himself between your thighs and you begin to realize just how broad he is as your leg muscles cry out from the stretch. The rest of the room comes into view. There are handcuffs and ropes, along with paddles and whips hanging on the wall. There was no escaping this man, and your curiosity is peaked by the ropes you notice around the bed frame.
“Perhaps you’re not a little dove after all.” He taunts, looking at your wide eyes as they take in the room. He’s going to take what he wants from you and you barely fought it. You’re enjoying his words and touches, even more so now that you see how incredibly handsome he is.
“Please.” You whimper, making eye contact with your captor. Though you aren’t sure if it’s a plea to stop or keep going.
“You look even more gorgeous spread out for me like this. So wet. And warm.” He’s looking at your cunt like it’s the newest wonder of the world. “Doesn’t look like she has gotten the attention she needs lately. Does your boyfriend not know what he’s doing?”
His warm breath hits your core as he speaks, sending waves of warmth from the base of your spine out to your fingertips.
“He….” you aren’t sure what to say. You love your boyfriend, “he does. He just isn’t…skilled.”
A gentle kiss is placed on your mound, right above the spot that’s aching for attention. “Poor baby. Do you need me to take care of it, little dove?”
You clamp your eyes shut. You shouldn’t. This is wrong. But your traitorous pussy has other plans and you very quietly whisper yes.
His mouth is on your before you can even process what you just agreed to. A flat, wet tongue laps from your entrance to your clit a few times before he sucks your clit into his mouth. He groans deeply as he tastes you, sending a rumble straight through you. You cry out loudly and arch your back, pushing yourself into him.
“Good girl.” He says before doing it again. “I want to hear you enjoy it.”
His mouth continues to keep you on edge. Rotating between licking and sucking, adding pressure until you start breathing heavily and then easing up. You’re right on the edge, but he’s not letting you over.
“Please. Please let me come.” You beg.
He stops, looking at you with a cocky smirk, revealing that fucking dimple again. “That boyfriend of yours has been mistreating you, little dove. So worked up.”
You let a whine when he stops and begs some more. “Please. You feel so good.”
He slams two fingers deep inside of you. You’re so wet that it happens with ease and when he curls his fingers forward, right to that spongy part, you start to feel like your bones are dissolving.
“F-fuuuuuck,” you gasp.
His tongue begins to flick against your clit again, gently at first as he works you with his fingers. You can feel your arousal dripping down his hand and pooling under your ass. He starts applying more pressure with his tongue and you know that he’s going to make you come. Hard. And with your hands still tied behind your back you won’t be able to push him away when you become too sensitive. Too overly stimulated.
“Come on my little dove,” he says between licks. “Show me how good this feels.”
Your orgasm hits with a force you have never felt before. Electricity feels like it courses through your entire body and you scream out to the room, legs shaking as you cover his hand and mouth with your arousal. He doesn’t let up, sucking and licking as your orgasm feels like it lasts forever. Finally, you can’t take it anymore and you try to roll away.
“S-Stop. S’too much,” you gasp. “Please.”
He pulls his fingers from you, pinning your hips down with his forearm making you a prisoner to his tongue. He’s going to make you come again.
“I can’t,” you huff as you try to escape.
“Ssh, little dove. You can take it.” He keeps sucking and licking your swollen bundle of nerves.
Your body starts to shake, the word no escaping your lips over and over. You mean yes, but this man is overwhelming you with pleasure in a way no one ever has before, and you don’t know if you can take it.
He moans against you as he sucks, that same rumble from earlier, it consumes you and that’s what does it. You come again, grinding shamelessly against his face as he smiles up at you.
“Good girl. Fuck, I am going to ruin you for every other man. No one is going to make you come as hard, or as much as I will. Roll over.”
The fact that he’s taken you against your will is not even in your mind as you slide back into the bed to roll over. He pulls you up so your knees are resting right on the edge, fully on display for him.
“Such a perfect little pussy. And a perfect girl. Being so good for me.” You hear his belt and jeans hit the floor. Glancing back you see him naked from the waist down, pumping his cock in his hand. Your eyes widen at the size of him.
“No. It’s not gonna….I can’t do it.” You crawl up the bed to get away, laying flat on your stomach.
He climbs up behind you and hitches one of your legs up before aligning himself with your soaked entrance.
“Relax, little dove,” he whispers in your ear before gently kissing your neck. He pushes himself into you and you tense up at the size of him.
“You need to relax, baby girl.” He says deeply, “Take a deep breath. You can do this.”
You do as he says, looking over your shoulder at him and breathing deeply.
He pushes into you more, not breaking eye contact. “Good girl. Make room for me.”
He’s stretching you almost to the point of pain but you listen and breathe. The more relaxed you are the better it feels. There can’t be much more left for him to get inside of you.
“Almost there. You’re such a good little dove. One more breath baby.” Finally, you feel his hips pressed against your ass. He stays still for a second and you grind back into him.
“Fuck, stay still for a second. You’re so tight.” He gasps. Pride fills you that this big man can be brought to pieces by just the tiniest wiggle of your ass.
He takes a few breaths this time before he starts to move. He starts slow. Moving halfway out and then back in a few times. You need more.
“Fuck me,” you moan. “Please. Ruin me for other men like you promised.”
A hard smack lands on your ass cheek before he pumps in and out of you. He’s rough with you now, grabbing your hair and pounding as deep as he can after pulling out to the tip.
“You won’t be able to walk for a week.” He grunts before releasing your hair and spanking you again.
It’s euphoric. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. You arch your back more and he lays another slap across your ass.
“You’re not a little dove are you?” He growls as he fucks you.
“No,” you breathe. Barely able to form a thought.
“Tell me what you are.” He says, slapping your ass again.
“I’m yours. I’m your desperate, cock loving little dove.” It comes out as a whine, your orgasm growing closer.
He doesn’t stop pounding into you. “Fuck. That’s my good girl. You’re taking me so well.”
You can feel your arousal soaking the sheets below you, and hear the squelching as he fucks into you. You arch your back again so he can brush against that spot you love so much. He reaches under you, rubbing tight little circles on your clit.
“Oh….f-fuck.” You coo.
“Yea?” He taunts, “You like that? My rough fingers on your beautiful little cunt?”
His words send another rush of arousal to your core, this is wrong. You shouldn’t like this, but you’re not sure you’ll survive if he stops what he’s doing.
“N-no. Fuck you.” You try to sound mad but it hits his ears in breathy moans.
“My perfect girl.” He taunts, “Come on my big cock. Squeeze me with that tightly little pussy.”
Your vision blurs as you start to gush all over him. Your whole body tenses as wave after wave of pleasure consumes you, moaning and squealing like a woman possessed. Your legs shake so hard that you feel like you’re in the middle of an intense gym session. Slowly you gain control of your body again and he’s right, you’re ruined for all other men.
“Good fucking girl,” he says as he pulls out and climbs up the bed. “You’re so hot. Open your mouth for me, little dove.”
He pumps himself over you as you roll on your back and open your mouth. His strokes and breathing become erratic as warm ropes of come hit your tongue and face. He lets out a deep moan as he covers you.
He leans in a kisses your lips, not caring about the come on your chin or cheeks, the biggest smile crossing his face.
“Let me get you a face cloth, babe.” He says with a little laugh.
“Thank you, Joel.” You say with a wink. “And please untie me, my hands are asleep.”
He laughs, “I would, but I’m just your unskilled boyfriend now.”
He gently wipes off your face before reaching back and untying your wrists. He kisses them gently before laying back on the bed. “Was that ok?”
You curl into his arms. “It was perfect, baby.”
“Are you sure?” He squeezes you reassuringly. “You seemed genuinely scared a few times.”
“I told you I was in theatre in high school.” You laugh to yourself.
He chuckles deeply as he rubs your back. “I don’t think all of that was acting…”
You glance up to see him smiling at the ceiling, clearly very proud of himself for making you come so hard. “True, I think we need to change the sheets.”
Another gentle kiss lands on your forehead. “I love you.”
“You too, Joel. Very much.”
———————————————
Tags: @wannab-urs
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Incoming tangent about why Dead Boy Detectives is so important to me.
I found Dead Boy Detectives late, and I found the DBDA fandom even later. I'm not one to watch shows, especially not new ones. Even more so, I'm not one to watch supernatural horror, or any horror for that matter. Movies and shows seem like such a big time commitment to just sit there and do 'nothing' during, but Dead Boy Detectives intrigued me.
Once I started watching the show, I fell in love. Between the representation of POC actors throughout the cast, the sense of humor, and the mysteries I felt like I'd found a show that I could get invested in for the first time in a while. As the show progressed, I found myself invested in this story of loneliness, self-acceptance, and friendship.
Internalized homophobia is something that is very personal to me. I've struggled with it throughout my life, especially given the fact that I'm queer and non-binary. Watching Edwin go through a moment of "Wow, I can like boys" because of Niko's support (a friend, not a love interest) was so healing to me. Normally it feels like queer acceptance is a result of love in media, not a result of platonic support, so having that journey be a result of Niko was honestly amazing. Throughout the show, Niko's support is invaluable to Edwin's self-discovery, something that I can relate to as my friends were the ones who truly supported me through my queer journey, not potential partners.
Dead Boy Detectives' emphasis on platonic friendships is riddled throughout the show though. Niko and Edwin's Scooby Doo movie night was an example of how friendship can inspire people. Crystal's want for her mom to accept her brought Niko to a place where she felt like she could try to write to her mom again. Edwin and Niko's time together brings them to a place of deeper connection, meanwhile, the romantic pairing of Charles and Crystal spend time kissing instead of thinking about or discussing their problems.
And then the confession scene. This was the scene that got me into Dead Boy Detectives, and it's the scene that's been my lifeblood since. Of course, the confession itself is wonderfully written and the actors are so talented, but what hit me the hardest was how when Edwin says I love you the first time, Charles says it back without any questions. That simple "I love you too" was enough to make me consider this show one of my favorites of all time. Yes, Charles and Edwin are ultimately the core 'love story' of the show, in my opinion (They're positioned like Orpheus and Eurydice constantly and it drives me up the wall with my Hadestown hyper fixation added to it). But the importance of their friendship trumps everything else, and the emphasis on that platonic connection is so important to me.
This has been a giant ramble, and likely incoherent, but the tldr; is that I love Dead Boy Detectives with all my heart. It's such an important show for so many reasons and I will not shut up about it until Netflix decides to renew this damn thing.
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chronicbeans · 8 months
Text
Romantic Lucifer x Overly Kind and Sweet Sinner Reader Headcanons
I love him so much OMG. I wanted to play around with this dynamic to lol. Basically the exact opposite of the type of sinner he's probably used to seeing.
TW: Mentions of depression and anxiety, angst and fluff, mentions of past relationships
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• Chances are, you're very much a dreamer. Any type of dream, too, not just the desire to strike change in the world around you. Be it daydreams, goals, hopes, or anything along those lines, you're probably a dreamer. Those characteristics in a person are what catches his attention. He used to be that type of person, before everything changed once he was cast out. Although he doesn't necessarily like dreaming, anymore, he can appreciate it when others do it. Now, most of his own dreams are just concerned worries for his daughter's safety, longings to fix his relationship with her, and creating the worst case scenarios for his life. It's pretty obvious why he doesn't like to dwell on his own dreams...
• Your dreams, however, are rather interesting to him. Especially since you are a sinner and were not born into Hell. He doesn't necessarily look at sinners very highly, however, you are pretty different. You aren't a bad person, or at least not as bad as the rest of the sinners he's met. And the things you dream of? They're amazing. It's not that they're something he's never heard of, either. It's just that he's never heard of them from a sinner, before, or anyone else in Hell.
• As odd as it sounds, your dreams, even if they're just stories you've dreamed up or a hope to better yourself in some small way, give him a little glimmer of hope. He lost all hope over the years of him being in Hell, in large part due to seeing the worst in humanity... The sinners. So, despite him feeling different towards you, don't expect him to actually like you. You also shouldn't expect him to actually feel very hopeful just by you being so different. It's more like a little piece of coal that's gotten a bit hot, but hasn't sparked or ben set alight, yet. He barely even notices it's there.
• What you should expect, however, is for him to spend more time around you. He wants to see you fail to change his mind, or live up to the tiny hope that you're different and can live up to fulfill your dreams. He wants to see you slip up and show that you're not really this kind person you show yourself to be, and then be able to go on his way proudly, knowing that his depressive views on sinners are right. He doesn't even have the intention of using it to prove to Charlie, his daughter, that sinners are irredeemable. He just wants to snuff out what little hope he has before it can stand up and hurt him in the long run.
• That's not the case, however. Not at all. Instead, you just keep being kind. You check into his daughter's hotel to try to better yourself. This results in him spending far more time at the Hazbin Hotel, since now you're there, as well as causing him to spend more time with Charlie. He watches you genuinely try to get better, give Charlie pep talks to lift her up when she's down, and even try to get along with Niffty. It's a truly strange sight to behold for him... A sinner who is so kind and relaxed. He's truly wondering why you are in Hell, at this point.
• Though, the breaking point is when he overhears a conversation between you and Charlie. One that involved how you heard about the Hazbin Hotel, how you met Lucifer, and why you decided to try to see if the hotel could help you. Shockingly, you list off the fact that you wanted to see if you visiting the hotel could bring Lucifer over to visit, since you had noticed how he seemed to hang around you, and you wanted to see if it could help him and Charlie spend more time together as a reason for you going to the hotel. That, alongside the generic reasons of wanting to better yourself, needing a roof over your head, and wanting to possibly see if you could go to Heaven.
• In that moment, he tenses up, looks over towards your direction for a brief moment, then pretends like he didn't hear a thing. He doesn't know how to respond to such a thing. It's so overwhelmingly... selfless of you to even think of the fact that you coming to the hotel would also have the chance of helping Charlie and himself. That, and he's also embarrassed of the fact that you noticed him showing up a bit more often in your life, despite you two still being acquaintances. Then again, thinking it through, it should've been obvious. Not only is he royalty, he is the Lucifer. Everybody has probably heard about him, or the whole story about the Garden of Eden. So, the snake and apple themes of his outfit do help people who do not know what he looks like be able to identify that it's him. He was that famous snake. He is Lucifer.
• That's when he finally decides to let himself hope. Not necessarily for himself, for any other demon, for the sinners as a whole... Not even for you to better yourself and reach your dreams. No. He's just going to let himself hope that this you that you portray yourself as is the real you. This likeable person you seem to be may be real. So, he decides to officially consider you a friend. He lets himself loosen up, crack a few jokes, show you his duck collection... Or at least a few of them. It would be difficult to bring his entire collection to the hotel.
• Throughout it all, your kind self stays the same. There are times you seem to be angry, frustrated, or saddened, of course. However, that kindness always shows through, as well as your dreams and hopes. You ramble about those two topics, even acknowledging that while Lucifer may not believe in you, you do and that's all you need. Not only that, but you even show interest in the things he talks about. You point out your favorite rubber ducks in his collection, you listen to him as he plays music, you crack your own jokes in response to his. You even try to fill him in on a few of Charlie's interests to help him understand her better.
• Slowly, overtime, he begins to feel very conflicted... He can tell that he's beginning to feel more romantic emotions towards you. Yes, Lilith has been missing for several years, now. They're practically, if not, already separated. He's unsure of whether or not she's even going to return, much less if she'd be the same person she fell for. He mostly just worries about how Charlie would feel if she found out. Sure, their relationship isn't the best, still, but it's getting better. He doesn't want to accidentally mess it up by having moved on to someone else. Sure, Lilith hasn't talked to either of them in a long time, but he wouldn't be surprised if Charlie still love, cares for, and looks up to her mother. Nor would he be upset. Lilith was an amazing woman, after all...
• However... Lucifer knows all too well, by now, that simply not confronting the problem won't make it go away. He's ran away from many of his problems, or just hid from them, and it hasn't helped him. So, he takes the leap to ask if you are currently looking for a relationship. He silently crosses his fingers, hoping that it's a yes, maybe, you're open to one but not searching... anything but a no...
• And it's a yes! You can practically see him looking relieved as you do so. You can already guess at this point what his next question is going to be, so you decide to pop it yourself, asking if he wants to go on a date sometime. He practically looks like he's about to have a heart attack, having not expected or planned for you to ask him first, nodding happily with a shocked expression. However, he feels the need to wait until he sees how Charlie feels about everything before planning and scheduling it all out.
• However, once you do end up going on your date, it's not what you expected from a ruler of Hell. It's not bad, though. If anything, it's better! You were slightly scared he'd feel the need to be overly stuffy and formal to impress you. Instead, he brought you to his place to have some homemade dinner. It's just you, him, a rubber duck, and some nice food. Yes, he brought a rubber duck with him to the table. It's his security duck. It's so unapologetically him and that's what you love about him. His personality. The moment he placed that duck into the dinner table and said what it was for, all your worries were washed away.
• Your relationship is filled with a mixture of your own interests and his combining in fun and quirky ways, as well as more soft and emotional moments. You love to listen to his jokes and music, he loves to engage in whatever interests you have, and he comes up with amazing ways to mix the two of your interests to make the relationship feel more special. Do you love to write or make art, like paintings, pottery, or drawings? He'll write music based on your works, be it the stories you create or the emotions your art conveys. Do you like to collect something as a hobby? He likes to collect his rubber ducks, so you both can spend time chatting together about each other's collections, or even set them up in cute positions and take photos of them together! Is it gardening you like? Maybe you can try growing an apple tree, then you two can try making caramel apples with them!
• With all those cute moments, though, do come the downsides... Though, you never let them stop you. He has his moments where his fears, anxieties, and sadness do take over. He's scared of losing you, be it you breaking it off with him of, worse yet, Heaven taking you away. He's scared of you seeing any flaws in him. He's scared that you might be upset that, even if he knows he was ready to move on from Lilith, he does still miss her. After all, a relationship may end quickly, but feelings can linger for decades... However, he's worried you might not understand that. Time and time again, however, you still find new ways to shock and lift him up, again. Be it you letting your actions speak for themselves, you talking to him, or you simply listening to him vent about it. It's gotten to the point where you can look at him, and just tell when he's not alright, which you are pretty proud of.
• Usually, when he's upset, you can find him talking to his ducks about it. That, or playing music... usually to his ducks. If you couldn't tell, his ducks are a huge form of comfort for him. They can't judge him, they can't talk back in anyway that makes him upset, and they can't leave him. Plus, he's so used to talking to them when he's alone, that it's just second nature to do so.
• He has a lot of fears and insecurities. Though, he has two major ones. One is that you're going to hate him for still missing Lilith, sometimes. As mentioned earlier, a relationship doesn't just fizzle out quickly, usually. She just left, one day, and he's pretty much stuck dealing with his emotions for her for as long as they last, at this point not even sure if she'll come back to talk to her daughter, much less him. Just because he still misses her, though, doesn't mean he doesn't love you... He's terrified that you might not understand that, though. He's usually reassured, though, by you showing an understanding of his situation and the fact that he does truly care and love for you...
• However... the other fear he has is that Heaven might take you away. Be it an extermination killing you, or what he personally sees as worse, you being redeemed and going to Heaven, or Heaven taking you for some other reason. Sure, you'd be dead if you got killed during an extermination, but at least he'd have the chance to protect you from it. You being redeemed or being taken to Heaven for whatever reason, though? That's never really happened, before. It may or may not be possible, but if it is, he doesn't know what to expect? What if God, himself, comes down to take you to Heaven? He's fought Him, once, and failed miserably. He can't protect you from that, and if you go to Heaven, who knows if he'd see you again? It'd be like Lilith going missing all over, again, but worse because he knows where you are and that he can't join you. You're so kind and sweet that Lucifer can't even use the thought of you being irredeemable to calm himself... Sometimes, actually, he even wonders if God put you in Hell on accident.
• Oftentimes when you hear him talk about this, you try to think of some sort of reply. You are trying to better yourself, yes. You did go to the Hazbin Hotel to try to be redeemed, even if you did leave it to stay with Lucifer. You are also more than aware that you're drastically different from all the other sinners. The only real reply you can think of is that you wouldn't want to leave him, so why would God try to take you away when you care about Lucifer more than Him? You aren't necessarily sure just how much it helps, but it is something, which you hope is better than nothing.
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