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delicateflowerss · 2 years

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Don't Worry, Darling: Two

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, eventual NON-CON, dark!Rafe, oral (female receiving), mentions of murder, mention of birth control, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist

When you dazedly open your eyes, you expect to see your husband lying right next to you. A lazy morning kiss being your next assumption.

But you find his side of the bed empty, just a trace of his warmth lingers. You sit up, your brain still foggy with sleep, and the worry he didn’t make it home last night is fleeting.

But he never gets up before you do.

You’re still tying your robe around yourself when you find him in the kitchen. He doesn’t notice you walking in, perched at the island in the center of the room, scrolling through his phone. The smell of coffee wafts through the air and you realize he’s already made a batch. Another thing he never does.

“Good morning,” you greet, finally alerting him to your presence.

Slowly, he looks up, giving you an aloof good morning, then goes right back to his phone.

You can’t help the slight grimace on your face as you pour a cup of coffee.

“You’re up early,” you remark, trying to get him to say anything else to you.

“Yeah.” His eyes are still on his screen.

“What time did you get home last night?” You ask, sipping the sweltering drink.

He finally sets his phone down, giving you his full attention.

“Not too late. Maybe Midnight. You were already asleep,” he shrugs, speaking nonchalantly.

You nod, a moment of silence settling between the two of you.

It’s interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

You make eye contact with him, and for a split second, you can see the unadulterated fear in his blue eyes.

Before you can even set your mug down, Rafe is out of his stool, rushing to the front door.

By the time you catch up to him, you’re shocked to find the sheriff on your doorstep.

“We’ll only take a few minutes of your time,” you hear Shoupe say, and Rafe has no choice but to let him inside.

He’s not alone, a female officer trailing behind him.

Your brow furrows, yet you swallow down your nervousness, giving a polite smile to your guests.

“Please sit down,” you lead them to the living room, gesturing to the sofa. “Can I get you anything?”

Shoupe shakes his head, “no, but thank you. We’ll be quick.”

You sit across from the officers, next to an unusually quiet Rafe.

“What is this about?” You ask them, concern lacing your tone.

Shoupe clears his throat, giving a slight glance to the woman next to him. She has a notepad out, ready to write down anything of interest.

“Well,” he begins. “Chase Anderson didn’t come home last night, and his wife is pretty torn up about it. Called it in first thing this morning.”

“Oh my God,” you mutter, a gasp still in your throat. “Do you think something happened to him?”

“We’re not sure. That’s why we’re here. His wife said he was working late last night. We think you might’ve been one of the last people to see him, Mr. Cameron,” he explains, staring at Rafe.

You shift, glancing at your husband who hasn’t said a word or moved a muscle since he sat down.

“Can you tell us anything about your interaction with him last night? Anything unusual?”

Rafe juts his lips out, tapping his fingers on his knee, like he’s working hard to think about it.

“I barely saw him last night,” he finally answers. “We were both in the office but, he left before me.”

Shoupe nods, listening intently as the officer next to him furiously scribbles down Rafe’s words.

“Did he say anything to you? Was he acting differently?” Shoupe asks, one question after the other.

“I don’t think so.” His face twists up like he’s still trying to remember. “He might’ve said bye as he was leaving. But like I said, I barely saw him.”

The two officers share a look before Shoupe sighs, abruptly standing up. You and Rafe are quick to join him.

You lead them back to the front door, Rafe swinging it open for them.

“Thank you very much for your time,” the sheriff says, eyes flitting between the two of you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” Rafe passively tells him.

“Yeah, hopefully you got what you needed,” you add, sounding more genuine than your husband.

Shoupe leans in a little closer, voice lowering. “Between you and me, I think he skipped town. Probably having an affair.”

You raise your eyebrows, sharing a look with Rafe before you bid them goodbye.

Once the door is closed, you don’t hide the worry on your face. You notice how Rafe’s shoulders look less tense, like he finally let out the breath he was holding.

“That was weird. Do you think he’s okay?” You ask.

“You heard him, he probably skipped town.”

“But an affair?” You sound unconvinced. “We’ve been to Chase and Lauren’s tons of times. They’re not unhappy.”

He sighs, almost like he’s annoyed. “You don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

“Yeah, but.” He walks away in the middle of your sentence, so you follow him to the kitchen, continuing, “it’s just hard to think that’s what could be happening.”

Rafe doesn’t respond. Instead, he finally takes a sip of his coffee, still full to the brim.

“Are you sure nothing happened last night? I just can’t help but think…” You find it hard to finish your sentence.

“Babe, I barely saw him,” he reiterates before setting down his cup, grabbing his wallet and keys instead. His phone is already stuffed away in his front pocket. “I gotta get to work.”

You’re not paying attention to him, still thinking about the strange circumstances.

He gazes at you, sighing. “Y/N, it’s okay.” You finally meet his eyes, finding a gentleness there. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

He gives you a quick kiss before walking past you.

“You don’t want breakfast?” You call out to him, suddenly remembering.

But he’s already gone.

You watch him drive away, through the window above the sink. A bit late for the first kiss of the day, you realize.

It’s been days and still no word about Chase. No one has seen any sign of him, and the police seem to be in a deadlock.

Rafe hasn’t mentioned him since the police came by. You have to be the one to ask him if he’s heard anything new. His answer is always no, quick to move to the next subject.

You wonder if he’s more upset about it than he looks. It’s easier for Rafe to brush things under the rug, instead of actually talking about it.

All you can do is hope they find him sooner than later. Maybe an affair would be best-case scenario at this point.

You stare at the words in front of you. Your client needs these edits done by the end of the week, but it’s been hard for you to sit down and pull all your focus on work.

The sound of the side gate closing disrupts your thoughts. You peek outside the window of your office, noticing a certain blond tending to the pool.

Maybe it’s time for a break anyway.

“Hi, JJ,” you say, your hand shielding your eyes from the blistering sun.

He jumps, turning around to face you with a hand on his chest, relief washing over him when he sees you.

“You scared the crap out of me,” he practically shouts.

You try to refrain from smiling, but you do a poor job.

“How are you doing today?”

“Fine. Just finishing up here,” he replies.

“Why don’t you come inside? I can get you something to drink,” you suggest.

“Uh.” He looks ready to dismiss your offer, but he thinks about it for a moment. “I’m good, but thanks.”

“Oh, come on. When was your last break? I’m sure you’ve been going from one house to another all day.”

It’s a kind offer, but there’s also a hint of worry in your voice, helping to coax him.

He mulls it over. “Rafe’s not home?”

You shake your head, a friendly smile tracing your lips.

He sighs, his smile matching yours, and you’ve convinced him once again.

“So, what do you do all day?” He asks, looking around your kitchen.

He takes in the expensive appliances and the marble countertop of the kitchen island. He realizes he doesn’t exactly fit in, sticking out like a sore thumb with his well-worn work clothes.

“I do have a job,” you chuckle, handing him a glass of lemonade.

He raises his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on, while gulping down the ice-cold drink.

“I’m a book editor. And when I’m not doing that, I usually have something to do around here.” Your eyes scan the squeaky-clean kitchen.

He sets his glass down before asking, “why?”

“Why what?”

“Why have a job? Doesn’t Rafe have more than enough money for the both of you?” He doesn’t hide the disgust in his voice, his face almost in a sneer.

“It’s not about the money,” you explain. “I want to have something for myself. Something I can be proud of.”

“That must be nice. Working, not because you have to.”

You look down, unsure of how to respond. He notices, deciding to change the subject.

“You don’t really seem like Rafe’s type,” JJ comments.

You move your gaze back to him, a question on your lips.

“What does that mean?”

“I mean,” he stops himself before he says something he’ll regret, thinking it through. “I mean, you just don’t seem like some helpless, little Kook who wants to be Rafe Cameron’s perfect housewife.”

All you can do is laugh and he internally breathes a sigh of relief that he didn’t offend you.

“I think you have this idea of Rafe, and that’s fine, but it’s not who he actually is.”

“Please enlighten me, who is Rafe? Cause I guess I’ve never really had a chance to sit down and get to know the guy.” He smirks, the sarcasm doing little to cover up the bitterness in his tone.

You part your lips, ready to say something, but you stop.

“He’s um…” You end up saying, but you trail off, losing your train of thought. “He’s just not as bad as you think. He really has changed.”

The silence between the two of you is deafening. All JJ can do is give a tight-lipped smile, almost like he pities you.

“I should get going. Got other houses to get to.”

You nod, watching him get up.

“Thanks for the lemonade.” He points to his empty glass.

You smile, following him to the front door.

“See you next week,” you call out, your smile disappearing once you’re out of his view.

“So, I told him, there’s no way you’re going to be ready for court on Monday. But my opinion doesn’t really matter,” Topper finishes, taking a sip from his beer.

“Still. It must be so interesting working for a lawyer. I mean, the things you must hear,” Audrey says with a smile.

“Nothing I can tell you.” He laughs, everyone else joining in.

Audrey jokingly pouts before bursting into a laugh.

You sip your wine, still smiling. You and Rafe decided to meet some friends for dinner at the Club. You appreciate how well your friends and Rafe’s friends get along, something that transpired long before your marriage. You all try to get together as much as you can, and who knows? Maybe they’re closer than you realize, you wonder, glancing between Topper and Audrey.

“So, Rafe,” Caroline shifts the conversation. “I heard about Chase. Do you think everything’s okay?”

Suddenly, the weight of Rafe’s arm around your shoulders feels extremely heavy.

“I’m sure he just had to get away for a while,” he answers. He bites his bottom lip before continuing, “maybe the pressure got to him.”

“The pressure?” Caroline asks.

“Yeah, with work and everything. You know, he was working tons before he disappeared. Maybe that’s got something to do with it,” he speculates.

You look to Rafe, realizing he hasn’t said any of that to the police. Your eyes narrow, and you hope no one notices.

“It’s crazy. You think you know someone,” Cassie adds, drinking her cocktail.

“Let’s hope he’s alright,” Kelce remarks, earning nods.

Any semblance of hope about the situation is short lived, because not long after he says that a hush falls over the Island Club.

The bartender scrambles for the remote, turning up the TV mounted to the wall.

“Oh, shit,” Topper mutters, staring at the TV.

Rafe’s arm falls from you as he shifts in his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

“The Kildare County Police Department has found evidence ruling Chase Anderson’s disappearance, a homicide,” the news anchor reports.

There’s a collective gasp, and you move your hand to your mouth, covering yours.

“The County Sheriff will be giving a press conference shortly. If anyone has any information…”

You drown her out, realizing that someone you know has been murdered.

It’s almost quiet enough to hear the waves crashing onto the sand, but the beauty of it falls on deaf ears.

Dinner wrapped up quickly after that, no one knowing what to say, faces crumpled from the idea of death.

The drive home is quiet. Rafe keeps his eyes on the road, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel.

You don’t exactly notice, too preoccupied with the fact a murder happened on the island you have always felt safe on.

Neither of you have said a word to each other by the time you get home, turning on lights and setting your things down in the kitchen.

“I just can’t believe it.” You’re the first one to break the silence.

You’re not sure if he’s listening. He seems out of it, probably processing the news also.

“We didn’t see him that long ago. Now he’s… gone.” Your voice falls to a whisper, the meaning of the word hitting you.

Your husband doesn’t say anything, leaning against the kitchen island while you spit out your stream of consciousness.

“I can’t imagine what Lauren must be feeling right now.”

His eyes move to the floor, like he can’t look at you.

“I mean, murdered, Rafe.” You stare at him, and finally you get the comfort of his gaze, but it doesn’t help. Your voice is still unsteady, cracking a little. “I just can’t help but think. What if… What if it was you?”

You practically fall apart, the tears welling up in your eyes, now wanting to escape. He doesn’t waste a moment in walking over to you and wrapping his big arms around you.

“No, no” he mumbles.

Your eyelids flutter as you rest your head against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, and you start to feel better.

He holds you there and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring into your hair, “we’re okay. You don’t have to worry, baby.”

You move a little to look up at him, finding the soothing face of the man you love, strands of dirty blond hair curtaining concerned blue eyes.

“It’s just…” You pause, thinking. “This all made me think and, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. As you lean in for a kiss, he meets you halfway, capturing your lips passionately.

“You won’t ever have to worry about that,” he sighs as you two break away from each other.

You barely give him a second to breathe, kissing him deeply again, your arms encircling his neck.

He licks inside your mouth before turning you around, pushing you into the kitchen island, his body pressed against yours.

You two continue like that until he helps you sit atop it, hooking your legs around his hips. He moves his lips to your neck, softly biting and sucking. His breath feels scorching hot on your skin.

A slight moan falls from you as you start to move your hips against him, needing friction on your clothed core.

“You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?” He breathes out. “Wait until I touch you, like a good girl.”

You whine as his fingers graze your bare thighs, inching closer to where you ache for him.

“Rafe, please.”

A smirk graces his features as he hears you begging.

He gently rubs you through your underwear before pulling them down, leaving you exposed under your sundress.

You gasp when he bends down, latching his lips onto your swollen bud.

You throw your head back as he licks around your hole, then back to your clit, sucking lightly.

“Rafe,” you cry out, the pleasure growing quickly in the pit of your stomach.

He moves his hand up your body while his mouth is on your cunt. His other hand is on your hip, keeping you pinned, no way for you to involuntarily close your legs.

The hand roaming your body, squeezes your breast, massaging you through your dress.

It all becomes too much, and something snaps inside you as you come on his tongue.

When you start to come down, he steps back, taking in your panting figure. He licks his lips, slick with your arousal before kissing you again, tasting your own pleasure.

He’s quick to begin undoing his pants. You shift, logic coming back to your clouded mind.

“You think I’m done with you?”

“Wait, Rafe,” you stop him, and he stills his hand. “We need to be careful right now. My doctor won’t let me start my new birth control until I’m completely off my old one,” you say, still out of breath.

“You don’t need that stuff,” he dismisses, going in to kiss you again.

“Rafe,” you repeat, putting a hand on his chest, giving him a sharp look.

After a moment, he backs down, eyes softening.

“I’ll be extra careful, alright,” he concedes, finally kissing you.

You melt into him, trusting him. He pulls your hips off the marble, flipping you around, bending you over.

He places a kiss on the back of your neck as he lines himself up to you, easily pushing inside.

You hear him groan as your lips part, feeling the familiar stretch.

He waits until he’s all the way inside you before starting a rough pace, his hips slapping against you.

You close your eyes, falling into the waves of pleasure, forgetting the worries of the day. Your only focus is your husband.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @kkmstblog @whorefordrew @gillybear17 @alinaharlow

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist for this series!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

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buzzyb33 · 9 months

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Oh, well.

Prompt: Harry and Y/n meet online, after deciding or meet up in north London, a couple weeks later they meet each other again a couple weeks later under extremely different circumstances.

Warnings: swearing,

I just got back from meeting a boy, something I didn’t usually do, but I’d been talking to Harry as I met him online for a while now and we just met up.

Harry was a YouTuber, part of a big YouTube group with the money and looks to get him through life like a breeze.

I had a pretty decent job too, I was a photographer who travelled around Europe to take photos of models and scenery which got me a decent amount of money, so having a gorgeously decorated 2 bedroom apartment in London was perfect for me.

I streamed on twitch sometimes and had a small audience which I mainly did for fun.

I grin as I lock my door as squeal as that was one of my first ‘dates’ in years.

I smile and flop down on my bed.

A couple hours later as I’m cleaning my house I get a call from my younger brother, Tommy who was seventeen, eight years younger than me.

“Hello?” I say as my music turns off in my AirPods replaced by the phone call.

“Y/n! I- dad has a new girlfriend!” He announces with obvious pride in his voice.

“And how do you know that?” I respond as I keep washing up.

“Right- he’s been on his phone a lot more than normal, he’s been leaving around 9-11 every Thursday and he left in a suit today, he came back at 11 and there was lipstick on his collar, and he’s just been happier.” He says in a nonchalant tone.

Our mother died years ago- seven to be exact.

“Right- okay- sure Tommy, let him tell us in his own time- don’t push him.” I say as I start washing my hands.

“Yeah- right, bye n/n.” He says as the line cuts dead.

A couple weeks later, where me and Harry are getting more serious with more dates (and a couple make out sessions) my dad invites me other for dinner hesitantly saying he has a girlfriend- confirming Tommys suspicions.

As I arrive to the other side of London and see my dad and brother they both hug me as my dad clears his throat: “y/n- I as I’ve said in our group thingy- I have a- I’m seeing another woman, I have been for around 6 months now.. and- she’s coming round, Y/n, she has a son your age, a daughter two years younger and another son who isn’t coming- so look presentable- please.” He finishes with a clap of his hands and a pointed look in Tommy’s direction.

He scoffs and goes upstairs.

Today I was wearing a dark green button up crop top, black cargos, a belt, some jewellery, basic makeup and had my long black hair down.

Man hour later, when my dad was almost finished with making the spaghetti bolognaise there’s a knock at that door which Tommy runs to answer.

A couple seconds later, an older woman, who was pretty for her age walks in, followed by a young girl- early twenties and a boy- he looks up and as we lock eyes my jaw drops, his eyes widen and I gulp.

Harry.

What the fuck?

My face heats up as I fake a smile and introduce myself to them.

I get to Harry and shake his hand, which lingers for a bit too long as we look into each others eyes.

“I’m- Y/n..” I say to him and he nods.

“I’m, uh, Harry.” He says back.

We sit at that table with him directly opposite me, my dad to my left.

Around ten minutes later, when I’m just spinning my spaghetti on a fork my dad taps my shoulder.

“Why don’t you get to know Harry? You’re the same age-“ he starts but I cut in. “Dad were not twel-“ he cuts me off. “No! I insist! Go show him around the area! Let me talk to Tricia- Rosie is with Tom- go!” He says and shoos us off.

I frown as I bend down to tie my laces, feeling Harry’s eyes on me.

I look up at him and stand back up, leaving the house.

“This is- awkward.” He says as we get a little away from my house.

I nod and scratch my head.

“What now? Do- we.. keep.. seeing-“ he stops me.

“Only if you want to- I don’t want any tension- between us- or our parents.” He says.

I look up at him and smile.

“I- like you.. a lot I- don’t want to stop seeing you..” I say hesitantly as he smiles.

“I like you a lot too.. I want us to keep being a thing.. but- uhm- I don’t think we can- tell our parents..” he says and I nod.

I smile and take his hand.

We hold hands as we walk.

I lean closer to him as we walk around the area in silence.

When we arrived back we let go of each others hands and sit on the main sofa, Rosie and Tommy were in his room playing Minecraft and our parents were laughing over wine in the kitchen.

I smile at Harry.

“It’s like my friends when we were little- I think you’re going to be staying tonight.” I giggle slightly.

He laughs back.

“I can say I’m going home- so can you- we can still.. stay together.” He suggests with a smile.

After we left, we got McDonald’s and made out in the parking lot while laughing.

Sneaking around our parents won’t be as easy.

A/n: I like this one!

Anyway request me whatever read my page rules if your unsure and if something isn’t specified ask!

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legendofmorons · 7 months

Note

Twilight x reader

Fluff maybe angst (this week really tired me out)

Can you do a fic where the reader and twilight (and maybe others your pick) go drinking and drunken shenanigans ensue.

Thanks :)

Hammered, sloshed if you will

Pairing: Twilight x reader

Rating: T

Summary: You and Twilight go out and get drunk, get into a huge fight over literally nothing, and end up comforting each other the day after.

Warnings: alcohol, drunk behavior, Reader thinks Twilight cheats (He Does NOT. He would NEVER.)

Other: reader is assumed to be of legal drinking age.

-------

You can't remember who's idea it was, but now you're out at a tavern. The Hyrule you're in is somewhere in the early two thousands if all the leopard print, ultra low-rise jeans, and skinny scarfs are any indication.

Twilight is punching the air to a pit bull song as he happily drinks his long Island iced tea.

You've got whatever drink you like.

You and Twilight are both about five drinks in, and two rounds of shots have already passed.

"You should let me teach you lime dancin', honey." Twilight says with a grin.

"You should learn more modern line dancing." You counter, taking a sip of your own drink.

"What does that mean?" Twilight asks, eyes narrowing.

"You could learn some dances too? I could teach you!" You smile, unaware in the shift of mood.

"You think I can't learn?" Twilight is apparently too drunk to hear what you said.

You don't think that at all!

"Of course you can learn. I can teach you!" You're still smiling. You'd love to teach him!

"I can totally learn!" Twilight shouts, "I'll go dance right now!"

"Okay?" You manage, confused and a little annoyed.

Twilight downs the rest of his drink and goes to join the crowd that's line dancing.

You have to give it to him, he picks it up quickly. Though there's a smiling woman who's maybe a little too friendly. She's helping him too.

Does he think she's better than you?

He does.

You turn back to your drink, deciding it's better not to watch.

But then you've gone through another drink and can't find Twilight anywhere.

He's probably off kissing that stupid woman.

Obviously you should drink some more. That'll make you feel better.

When the bartender cuts you off, you decide it's probably time to go home. Even if Twilight is kissing someone else you want him to not get lost.

So, you go and track him down.

Twilight is still talking to the woman from earlier. Something about horse care? He probably heard you coming over and changed topics.

(He did not. This woman is a Lesbian and just bad at proper social interactions. Also Twilight would never cheat on anyone.)

"We're leaving. Whenever you're done." You say with a sigh, annoyed at the whole thing.

"You never believe in my dancing!" Twilight says as he whirls around.

"What are you talking about? I love when you dance!"

"You fo not!"

"I totally do!"

"You don't believe in anything!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Just leave without me."

"No. You're stupid and wrong, and you're irritating, but I'm not leaving you somewhere you can't get home from."

"Just go away!"

"Link." You say evenly, trying really hard to remember you're probably super drunk and shouldn't run your mouth more than you have.

"I don't care. Just let me be."

"I will, as soon as we're at the hotel."

Twilight looks like he might keep arguing. But he seems to think better of it. "Whatever. Just leave me alone when we're there."

The taxi ride back to the hotel is stifling. You're annoyed as all hell, and Twilight won't stop glaring out the window. You'd swear he has upset upsetness rolling off him in waves.

After paying the driver and giving a tip, ypu amd Twilight March through the hotel halls.

You got to your room, and straight to the shower. You think you deserve one.

Unfortunately after your shower you find a pouting Twilight.

"Time said I gotta sleep here." Twilight says woth a frown.

"Whatever." You shrug him off, pulling on pajamas.

"Whatever?"

"I just want to sleep." You say as you flop onto bed.

"Then we understand eachother."

"Link, shut the fuck up. I just wanna sleep." You groan. You hadn't meant to sound so rude, but it still happened. You'll apologize later.

-------

Morning comes with chirping birds and blinding sun. Your head pounds in time to what can only be an eclectic drumset played by a monkey.

Great.

You need to figure out how much you drank last night. You want to male sure you don't do it again.

You throw your arm out and accidentally smack Twilight's nose.

"Ow." Twilight groans, "What'd I do?"

"Nothing. Sorry." You squint as you roll over to look at him.

Twilight looks about as bad as you feel. He must have also had too much.

"What happened last night?"

"Dunno. I think we got in a fight or something."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I dunno, just am. Words are hard.... but I wanna say sorry for my part."

"Aw, Link, it's okay." You smile as you set your head on his chest.

Twilight throws one arm across his eyes. His other arm loops around your shoulders. "Let's go back to sleep."

"Okay."

Twilight's breathing is still slow and steady. But he isn't asleep quite yet.

"I'm sorry too." You admit, "I think I was mean last night."

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you, (Y/n). Just- don't let me drink that much ever again."

"I won't."

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu twilight #lu twilight x reader #tw drinking #cw drinking

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markgarry909 · 1 month

Text

My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed.

I turned to her and said, 'Do you want to have Sex?'

'No,' she answered.

I then said, 'Is that your final answer?'

... She didn't even look at me this time, simply saying, 'Yes..'

So I said, "Then I'd like to phone a friend."

And that's when the fight started...

________________________________

I took my wife to a restaurant.

The waiter, for some reason, took my order first.

"I'll have the rump steak, rare, please."

He said, "Aren't you worried about the mad cow?"

"Nah, she can order for herself."

And that's when the fight started.....

_____________________________

My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.

I asked her, "Do you know him?"

"Yes", she sighed,

"He's my old boyfriend. I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since."

"My God!" I said, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"

And then the fight started...

_____________________________

My wife sat down next to me as I was flipping channels.

She asked, "What's on TV?"

I said, "Dust."

And then the fight started...

________________________________

Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch, and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked the boat up to the van and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad all day.

I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed. I cuddled up to my wife's back;

now with a different anticipation, and whispered, "The weather out there is terrible."

My loving wife of 5 years replied, "And, can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?"

And that's how the fight started...

_______________________________

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary.

She said, "I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds."

I bought her a bathroom scale.

And then the fight started......

______________________________

After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my Driver's License to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realised I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later.

The woman said, 'Unbutton your shirt'.

So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair.

She said, 'That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me' and she processed my Social Security application.

When I got home, I excitedly told my wife about my experience at the Social Security office.

She said, 'You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability too.'

And then the fight started...

________________________________

My wife was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror.

She was not happy with what she saw and said to me, “I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment.'

I replied, "Your eyesight's damn near perfect."

And then the fight started........

________________________________

I rear-ended a car this morning...the start of a REALLY bad day!

The driver got out of the other car, and he was a DWARF!!

He looked up at me and said 'I am NOT Happy!'

So I said, 'Well, which one ARE you then?'

That's how the fight started.

________________________________

One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a Christmas gift...

The next year, I didn't buy her a gift.

When she asked me why, I replied, “Well, you still haven't used the gift I bought you last year!"

And that's how the fight started.

Anon

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azsazz · 11 months

Note

CEO Nesta...? Please 🙏🙏

I need it 🥺

CEO!Nesta is THAT BITCH

CEO!Nesta intimidates everyone. There’s rumors around the office that she’s unable to smile, some say it’s because of bad botox (which she’s hasn’t had a need for yet, she just has a phenomenal skincare routine) and other say its because she was in an accident that left the muscles unable to work

CEO!Nesta is always working. Always always always. Never has time for a lunch break, meetings back-to-back, you don’t even know when she has time to go to the bathroom

You’re convinced that she thrives off of two hours of sleep

As her assistant, you’ve been in her office but haven’t seen a bed, but knows she has a closet for the late nights that turn into early morning with little to no sleep

CEO!Nesta isn’t a bitch, she just knows what she’s doing and how she wants it done. She doesn’t tolerate laziness or office gossip or any of that, she’s not afraid to fire someone on the spot

Thankfully, you don’t fit into those categories

You can see the stress lining her eyes the longer you work for her. So you start to do little things for her that she doesn’t take notice of in the beginning. You have her favorite coffees delivered in the afternoons where you know she’s had little sleep. You start rearranging her meetings on her calendar so that there’s more time between them to take a breath or use the restroom

When you really start getting comfortable with it, you schedule her an entire hour for lunch, and she calls you into her office

Your heart is beating out of your chest. Either you’re going to get fired or she’s going to make you schedule something. you know you won’t be thanked for it, but she deserves this kindness more than she realizes

CEO!Nesta blinks, confused. “What’s wrong with my calendar?”

“Nothing,” you answer nervously, “You have a free hour.”

CEO!Nesta looks confused, as if she doesn’t know what to do. She hasn’t had a free hour since she’s become CEO, she doesn’t think

You think she’s glitched out, the way she stares at the empty space on her calendar

Finally, she turns to you, and asks if you’d join her for lunch

You stammer out a yes, and she takes you to a nice restaurant, not needing a reservation because they always have a table for her

You find that you really like Nesta

She’s a woman who knows what she wants, is confident, intelligent, gorgeous and she’s funny. You don’t think you’ve laughed this much in ages

You start spending more time together and you make sure to give her an hour free when you can, and she always asks to spend that time with you

Things turn to something more before either of you notice. Gentle touches as you hand her things, a caress across your arm as she passes when you hold the door open to her meetings, linger glances that have you hot between you legs

CEO!Nesta has never been shy except for this. She doesn’t know how to make a move. Men are easy, she walks them like dogs, but you’re very much different

So she just goes for it. Invites you to have a late dinner in her office since the both of you are there. Everyone else has gone home, and when you’re both wine drunk with full stomachs, she leans forward and kisses you

It turns hot, quickly. The both of you are acting on feelings hidden, that have been growing and blooming ever since that first free hour. her hands shake a little, but her movements are still confident in the way they unzip your slacks

He lips are incredible, tongue even more so as she eats you out on the couch in her office. You cum embarrassingly quickly but she doesn’t seem to notice, shoving her fingers inside of you as she drags another orgasm from you

The frenzy turns more. You can’t keep your hands off of each other. Quickies in the bathrooms, smeared lipstick you help her fix, hair mused. Good thing she has that extra closet in her office because one morning she slipped a vibrator up your cunt after going down on you, and she turned it on throughout the day, setting the speed to tortuous, and you’d had to change into one of her skirts halfway through the day, only after she demanded you sit on her face

You’re no less reciprocating. You love the feeling of her creamy skin, so perfect and soft. The feeling of her clit between your teeth, her breasts in your mouth, fingers and toys and tongue and whatever you can get in the vicinity of her cunt. You’d even fingered and sucked at her clit under her desk while she was on a video call. You’d enjoyed her trying to keep her normally cool composure very much

#ceo!nesta #nesta AU #nesta #azsazz #azsazz AU

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adarkrainbow · 11 months

Text

A Little Red Riding Hood variation: Little Golden Hood

I am currently reading "The Land of Lost Things", and something struck me - the name used for Little Red Riding Hood. Blanchette. A French name for sure, but a name composed of "white" (blanc) with the female diminutive "-ette". So, "small white one". Quite a strange name for a Little Red Riding Hood, but I just passed over it.

And even more recently, I saw people talk on Tumblr of an alternate Little Red Riding Hood story titled "Little Golden Hood". And what a surprise when I hear that... It is supposedly a French folktale!

Here is a rough English translation of the original French text, shared around the Internet:

There was a little girl that was called Little Golden-hood. She was pretty and nice as a star in its season. Her real name was Blanchette, but since she used to have on a wonderful little cloak with a hood that was gold-and-fire-coloured, she was called Little Golden-hood. Her Grandmother had given it to her. She was so old that she did not know her age.

One day the mother said to the child: "Let us see, my little Golden-hood, if you know now how to find your way to Grandmother's house by yourself. You shall take this good piece of cake to her for a Sunday treat tomorrow. Remember to ask her how she is, and come back at once, without stopping to chatter on the way with people you don't know. Do you quite understand?"

"I quite understand," replied Blanchette merrily. And off she went with the cake, pleased with her errand.

But Grandmother lived in another village, and there was a wood to cross before getting there. At a turn of the road under the trees, suddenly she heard an animal among the bushes.

"Who goes there?"

"Friend Wolf."

He had been prying on her since she left home that day, seeking a safe place to attack and eat her. But then some wood-cutters appeared near-by. So instead of falling on Blanchette he came frisking up to her like a good dog.

"It is you, nice Little Golden-hood," said he. So the little girl stopped to talk with the wolf, even though she did not know him in the least.

"You know me, then!" said she; "what is your name?"

"My name is friend Wolf. And where are you going, pretty one, with your little basket on your arm?"

"I am going to my Grandmother, to take her a good piece of cake for her Sunday treat tomorrow."

"And where does she live, your Grandmother?"

"She lives at the other side of the wood, in the first house in the village, near the windmill, you know."

"Ah! yes! I know now," said the Wolf. "Well, that's just where I'm going; I shall get there before you, no doubt, with your little bits of legs, and I'll tell her you're coming to see her; then she'll wait for you."

The Wolf cut across the wood, and in five minutes arrived at the Grandmother's house.

He knocked at the door: toc, toc.

No answer.

He knocked louder.

Nobody.

Then he stood up on end, put his two forepaws on the latch and the door opened. There was not a soul in the house, for the old woman had risen early to sell herbs in the town, and she had gone off in such haste that she had left her bed unmade, with her great nightcap on the pillow.

"Good!" said the wolf to himself, "I know what I'll do."

He shut the door, pulled on the Grandmother's nightcap down to his eyes, then he laid down in his full length in the bed after drawing the curtains.

In the meantime, Blanchette went quietly on her way, as little girls do, amusing herself here and there by picking Easter daisies, watching the little birds making their nests, and running after the butterflies which fluttered in the sunshine.

At last she arrived at the door. Knock, knock.

"Who is there?" said the wolf, softening his rough voice as best he could.

"It's me, Granny, your little Golden-hood. I'm bringing you a big piece of cake for your Sunday treat tomorrow."

"Press your finger on the latch, then push and the door opens."

"Why, you've got a cold, Granny," said she, coming in.

"Ahem! A little, a little . . ." replied the wolf, pretending to cough. "Shut the door well, my little lamb. Put your basket on the table, and then take off your frock and come and lie down by me and rest a little."

The good child undressed, but kept her little hood on her head. When she saw what a figure her Granny cut in bed, she was much surprised.

"Oh!" cried she, "how like you are to friend Wolf, Grandmother!"

"That's because of my night-cap, child," replies the wolf.

"Oh! What hairy arms you have got, Grandmother!"

"All the better to hug you, my child."

"Oh! What a big tongue you have got, Grandmother!"

"All the better for answering, child."

"Oh! What a mouthful of great white teeth you have, Grandmother!"

"That's for crunching little children with! "And the wolf opened his jaws wide to swallow Blanchette.

But she put down her head crying, "Mamma! Mamma!" and the wolf only caught her little hood.

The wolf drew back, crying and shaking his jaw as if he had swallowed red-hot coals. The little fire-coloured hood that had burnt his tongue right down his throat. The little hood, you see, was one of those magic caps that they used to have in former times, in stories.

So there was the wolf with his throat burnt, jumping off the bed and trying to find the door, howling and howling as if all the dogs in the country were at his heels.

Just at this moment the Grandmother arrived. She was returning from town with her long sack empty on her shoulder.

"Ah, brigand!" she cried, "wait a bit!" Quickly she opened her sack wide across the door, and the maddened wolf sprang in head downwards. For once it was he that had been caught.

The brave old dame shut her sack, and next she ran and emptied it in the well. The vagabond wolf, still howling, tumbled in and was drowned.

"Ah, scoundrel! You thought you would crunch my little grandchild! Well, tomorrow we will make her a muff of your skin, and you yourself shall be crunched, for we will give your carcass to the dogs."

Then Grandmother hastened to dress Blanchette, who was still trembling with fear in the bed.

"Well," she said to her, "without my little hood where would you be now, darling?" To restore heart to the child, she made her eat a good piece of her cake and drink a good draught of wine. After that she took her by the hand and led her back to her home.

And then, who scolded her when she knew all that had happened? It was the mother. But Blanchette said she would never more stop to listen to a wolf, so her mother forgave her.

Blanchette, the Little Golden-hood, kept her word. And in fine weather she may still be seen in the fields with her pretty little hood, the colour of the sun.

But to see her you must rise early.

I found back the original French text, "Le Petit Chaperon d'Or" or rather "La Véritable Histoire du Petit Chaperon d'Or" - there are segments which were cut from the story, such as an entire paragraph opening the tale by saying "You all heard of the story of Little Red Riding Hood, but today we know the REAL story and this is the one you will hear today". And the source for this story is a 1888 book by Charles Marelle, called "Affenschwanz et cetera: variantes orales de contes populaires français et étrangers" (Oral variations of French and foreign folktales).

Now who was Charles Marelle? He was a folklorist and poet of the 19th century who spoke and wrote in both French and German - he notably taught French literature in Berlin. He was born in 1827 and died after 1903 (we do not have his exact date of death). He published two works in German: Italienische Volkslieder (1887) ; and Die französischen Mährchen von Perrault : von G. Doré illustrirt, mit der deutschen Bearbeitung Moritz Hartmann's und einigen Stücken aus der Grimm'schen Sammlung verglichen. He also published two French works: On the pronunciation of the silent "e" ; and Folk-tales and Folk-songs of France. He also published a collection of "small fables, songs and poetry for children".

The work above, "Affenschwanz et cetera" was first published in German in 1888, then translated in French in 1894 : Variétés littéraires et caetera. He even received a prize from the Académie française for this book. As the name says, the purpose of the book was apparently to collect oral variations of famous fairytales - after all, the 19th century was the start of the great collect of oral and folkloric fairytales opposing the literary ones.

In the introduction of the book, Marelle explains this tale was told to him in 1880, by a lawyer named Lucas living in Crésantignes (Aube), who himself had heard the tale by a school teacher of Romilly.

The English text above is a very ROUGH translation, and I insist on that because I discovered that the English text cut off some parts of the French tale. For example, when the Grandmother is introduced there is a whole segment missing that goes as such: "Se had given her this hood ; it was supposed to bring her good fortune, because she claimed it was made out of a ray of sunlight. And, since the good old woman was rumored to be a bit of a witch, everybody also believed that the little cap was a bit bewitched. And it was indeed, as you will see." Another deleted segment is when the story explains that the hood was one of those "magical caps" of the "olden times" - the English text cuts off the mention that the caps the narrator refers to made their owners "invisible or invulnerable". Finally, there's some translation mistakes - the exchange "Who goes there? Friend Wolf" is not a dialogue in the original text, rather it is the narrator who goes "Oh, but who goes there? Why it's Mister Wolf!".

But outside of the bad translation, I want to talk about the story itself and of how... How weird it is. As in, when you know your Little Red Riding Hood, this variation is very, very weird.

For example, if you have been here for some times you might remember I posted about the "original" version of the Little Red Riding Hood tale, the reconstruction that has been made of the primitive, oral version of the tale before Perrault rewrote it entirely - I already evoked it here while talking about the Sandman comic, and then I went into more details about this reconstructed ancestor here. And this oral variation bears absolutely no mark of the original oral version of the story. No meat or wine awaiting the girl, no dark abrupt ending, no disturbing strip-tease by the chimney, no excuse to go to the natural toilets... This story clearly belongs to the post-Perrault world - for example you have this strong focus on the hood, which was an element brought forward by Perrault, and you have a variation of the "Tire la bobinette et la chevilette cherra" formula from Perrault's fairytale.

But even more than a post-Perrault fairytale, you also see contaminations by the German version of the story as the Grimms would illustrate it, because you have the protagonists surviving in the end, and topics such as the capture and drowning of the wolf. Remember, Charles Marelle was all about linking together French and German culture... The deleted paragraph about "Perrault's story is false, THIS is the real story" also shows a very clear intention of opposing and rejecting the literary creation of Perrault, reflecting this very typical approach of the 19th century folklorists - which lasted up until the second half of the 20th century - of considering any type of oral story collected, any type of "countryside variation" of a given fairytale, superior, above and "truer" than their literary counterparts. This mistake was notably what led generations of fairytale folklorists (at least in France) to consider that the literary versions of fairytales should not be taken into account in the evolution and formation of these stories, despite them being usually A) older than the oral versions collected and B) massively popular to the point of being part of everybody's popular culture.

But here is the big clue that shows this version is less "folkloric" and more "folklorist-invented". I won't call it artificial, but there is this BIG element that clearly makes this story stand out as a perfect example of 19th century-folklorists belief. The sun motif. The fact that Little Red Riding Hood now becomes a "Golden Hood", that the Hood made of sun-rays is of a fire color and burns the wolf, and the entire ending where the little girl can be spotted shining in the fields early in the morning... This story makes it so that Little Red Riding Hood becomes a solar story. And here's the problem... The idea that fairytales are all solar myths - Little Red Riding Hood especially - was mostly an invention of 19th century folklorists, perpetuated by 20th century folklorist and authors, and only recently debunked. It is true that some famous stories have a solar motif to them - Sleeping Beauty for example has a strong solar motif, that cannot be denied. But to consider, for example, Cinderella or Bluebeard as solar myths is definitively going too far... And while Little Red Riding Hood could be understood as a solar myth, it truly isn't. Because those that defend this idea A) use the brothers Grimm version of the tale where the little girl escapes the wolf's belly to illustrate "day returns after night", ignoring that this was a recent addition to the story after Perrault's time B) focus strongly on the red of the hood... When we know today that making the little riding hood "red" was an innovation of Perrault, and not originally present in the story.

Here you have all the markings, clues and imprints of someone who was trying to enforce the "solar myth theory" into the Little Red Riding Hood story, and clearly re-created a so-called "folkloric" version just to spurn Perrault's story. The simple obsession with the hood, explaining why it is here, giving it special powers, and focusing so intensely on its color, proves that this was a story created with the intention of opposing and rivaling Perrault's own story, since all the versions actually "folkloric" show a neglect of the hood or the color in favor of focusing on elements such as the cannibal meal, the paths of pin and needles, or the escape naked through the woods.

That being said, I personally do enjoy a lot this story. I find it fun and clever. I greatly enjoy the role reversal where it is the grandmother, not a woodsman, that saves the girl ; I enjoy the grandmother becoming a witch and the element of the magical golden hood. It is a very pleasant and fascinating variation of the story, very feminist before its time.

BUT context and analysis is greatly needed to understand that this is not some sort of "proof that Little Red Riding Hood was originally the golden grandaughter of a witch, and the embodiment of the sun". This story was clearly artificial or crafted after and in reaction to Perrault's story, with influence from German fairytales. It is no surprise that the sources for this variation were not people of the "low folk" but educated people of a higher class: the story wasn't told by a seamstress, a beggar, a farmer... But by a school teacher first, and it was then retold by a lawyer. So it is not so much a true "folktale" of France, as rather a scientific creation meant to become an oral folktale and be treated as such.

#little red riding hood #little golden hood #little red riding hood variations #fairytale analysis #french fairytales #french folktales #artificial fairytales #the solar myth theory #i had a tag for this solar myth thing but i forgot which one it was

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

Text

OCTOBER 15TH. CRUELLA DE VIL

“i live for fur, i worship fur. after all, is there a woman in all this wretched world who doesn't?.”

♱ — shouto todoroki + fearplay.

♱ — synopsis; cruella de vil cruella de vil… if he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will. a man of shouto todoroki’s calibre finds amusement in torturing the one thing he might love more than spots… his favourite little hybrid, his most prized possession…you.

♱ —length; 5.9K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, mentions of smoking, cigarette burns, dry humping, shoe humping, stockholm syndrome, orgasm control, fear play, power play, clothed sex, blowjobs, oral sex ( m!receiving ), humiliation, edging, pictures, spit!kink, fem!reader, hybrid!reader, cruella de vil!todoroki. not beta read !

♱ — notes; beep boop !! happy sinister saturday my angels, this week we have one of my faves, cruella de vil 'n shou so i hope you enjoy!! i'm so excited to share this one with you <3 - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

there is always work to be done when achieving perfectionism

discipline and obedience were two very important lessons shouto todoroki had learned early on in life.

though raised with a silver spoon perched between his perfect lips— the man, like any other who has walked this earth, has had his fair share of struggles too. enji todoroki was a man who believed in perfectionism…only achieved by hard work. discipline. obedience.

his father was unrelenting in making sure shouto knew what those words meant, raised up to take over the family business out of the three other siblings in his brood. he was neglected and unloved— but taught lessons on how to manage, make money, to speak when spoken to and listen when required to. shouto was malleable, easily trained back then, worked hard to please his father and all the companies to the family name until his light broke. until he’d had enough.

with uniquely split peppermint hair he’d managed to escape into the shadows with a sum of hush money as though not to spill the evil secrets of his upbringing— shouto had kept his lessons of obedience and discipline in mind. the money he would use as a start up, rationed into portions for rent, food and materials for the clothes he’d designed. someday hoping to make a man out of himself, and sell them to the world.

todoroki wanted to be seen by people, for his designs to reach and touch the hearts of people across the country and maybe even the world— but to do so he had to be obedient, taking an entry level job at a department store that sold high fashion ( of course under a different name…the name cruella, shouto would start from the bottom and make his own way up— he wouldn’t be attached to the cruelty of his childhood ). names of dior, gucci and valentino… burberry, celine, christopher wang flashed in front of his mismatched eyes over tills on a daily basis— pearls and diamonds he’d never seen or heard of were favoured among customers in the store. he aspired to be like them, become a household name.

to be recognised for his efforts in the world of fashion he would have to work hard, make his way up the ranks to afford furs and chiffons for the goes he had designed—stacked up on napkins and parchment paper, whatever he can find, discarded around his shitty little one bed studio. todoroki sells his first piece into a winter collection after months of cold calling and door knocking towards big owners of major stores.

success, comes with discipline, feigning obedience.

and shouto todoroki knows that he’s finally made it when the calls come flooding into his quiet, dingy london apartment looking for hints in whether or not he’s designed a spring collection.

of course he had, years in advance.

and that brings us to today, where there’s corporate buildings across the world with his alias spelled out in big red and white letters across the front, filled with passionate designers and models and all sorts of staff. there are billboards at every corner plastered with teasers for todoroki’s upcoming fashion show, he’s been on the cover of all editions of vogue at one point or another— he’s built himself off of the ground.

starting with obedience and discipline and mixed with a hint of dedication.

perhaps todoroki should thank his father for not showing he and his siblings any compassion while they were growing up, for the fearful lessons he instilled in them— but then again, it was the dual haired man who’d made a righteous name out of the syllables of his last, who became a pioneer and spearhead to the fashion industry…not poor old enji. poor poor enji, there’s not a dime to his name these days, shouto and touya had made sure of that by selling their childhood trauma to the media.

shouto made millions which he put towards his fashion company, touya has his band, fuyumi her family comfortably nestled up in some uptight gated community and natsuou wrote a book. they had all utilised what they’d been taught, to make money and to speak when spoken to ( promoted by press to speak on their upbringing of course ).

shouto todoroki is now loved by many, a peppermint haired boy estranged from his family putting himself and his designs in bright colours and elaborate patterns contrasting of his cool, and clipped self out there into the industry. and perhaps it was a cruel move on shouto’s part, but he didn’t care. dear old daddy would have to suffer for raising a son just like him. for acquiescence and regimen breeds rebels, and in excessive amounts, gives birth to bad…bad people.

he is loved, he is bad, but he is free— his ego kissed and stroked by all of those around him, who don’t know the true him. and cruella, or shouto is sure if people knew how bad he truly was behind the smoke screen of his brilliance, then his career wouldn’t quite be the same as it were now.

even though the peppermint haired designer loves his job and his work more than anything— a work life balance was also important to him too, to let the day’s stresses flood from his body was a priority. it was hard to keep the cruelty that danced around in his blood stream at bay while todoroki flittered throughout his offices and approved fabrics or threads…he needed an outlet, a reliever to tuck shouto todoroki away and let cruella come out to play.

as soon as the designer finds himself within his expensive apartment complex— his Chelsey boots clicking against the white glossed marble flooring, he’s swarmed by eager staff that welcome him home. bright eyes full of admiration tracing his outline, puffy cream fur coat, as he cascades through the reception without a care in the world. “afta’noon mister todoroki— i-i mean cruella!” the doorman had greeted him with a bobbing Adam’s apple and polite smile. “a pleasure ta welcome ya back!”

with his diamond lined eyes narrowed, todoroki let the corners of his pretty lips twitch up into a soft, smug grin. “the pleasure is all mine, darling.” he’d replied pompously as he made a b-line for the elevator. there’s confidence in every movement he makes and a bristling frost on every surface he touches as he steps straight from the elevator into his own luxury penthouse apartment, greeted by staff that shiver in his presence when he enters his home.

“mister todoroki,” staff bob their heads in respect, like they’re serving a king which they might as well be. he holds power over everyone who gets a chance to witness him speak, have the honour of seeing him at work. a king in the world of fashion.

todoroki’s boots continue to click and clack the further he explores the penthouse with high swooping ceilings and glass windows about the place—letting the cool night and all it’s stars pour in, illuminating the room accompanied by that of the moon. the white light shines in winter tones through paper scattered about the place, scrapped designs, those that’ll make the cut and some saved for future opportunities like the met gala look a celebrity has requested from him for next year. animal prints are thrown over the backs modern day architecture and chairs— the striped ones are often hidden.

shouto much prefers the perfect simplicity of spots.

they’re his favourite, round…infinite… never ending. the promise of forever is embodied in a perfect spot.

there’s a reason why he has a framed portrait of his most beloved design— a real fur coat, made entirely of spots.

is there anything more precious than something so simple and beautifully designed by nature? this is a question todoroki finds himself asking almost everyone night when he returns home from work, from being adored by people who do nothing but put pennies in his bank account— without even knowing the real him. but then he comes to stand in front of a special locked door, to which he holds the only key, he finds the answer, he smells it hanging in the air of the room as he unlocked it, pushing open the door and tasting the scent of you.

you are the most precious creation known to mankind.

knocking the heels of his pointed boots together, todoroki watches as spotted black and white dalmation ears peek out from deeper in the room, barely visible over the edge of the comfortable leather couch installed into your playroom. they hang over your darling face in shame— you know what you’ve done, and a wicked chill seeps from his bones into the air around you once he notices your dainty tail no longer swishing behind you but instead tucked between your thighs… no doubt slicked up with an orgasm you know you weren’t allowed to have.

he knows, that you know, you’ve done the unthinkable— the punishable, topaz and granite eyes glossing over with a frightening level of disappointment, lips quirking up in satisfaction when you quiver like a leaf in the wind and a puppy whine sits cutely in the ridges of your throat. you’re not to touch what doesn’t belong to you, you know that.

“there you are, pet.” cruella, shouto cocks his head to the side, speaking with his tone tilting into condescending as if he’s looking down on you. he is, clicking his heels together again but three times in order to command you to sit once you reach him. “have you been good?” a scarily sunshine smile sits heavy on the peppermint haired designer’s face, gaze flickering down to where your hips don’t fully touch the floor— no doubt avoiding contact with your swollen, dirty clit. sticky, probably, with a release you shouldn’t have had. “i don’t think you have.”

he pulls a thick, long, thin red and white smoke stick from the left inside pocket of his tailored suit— crouching down to your height and uses the death stick to tilt your stare up from the black leather of his boots to his steeled pair of eyes. “pet?” over the tobacco scent hanging between you both, todoroki catches a whiff of your arousal, a touch of perfume smelling like your instinctual fear… he sees it bright in the pretty flecks in your eyes, dancing around like candles flickering in the wind. it’s a beautiful sight, seeing you scared. he loves it, he thinks—nudging your cheek a little more. “answer me.”

you flinch back at the harsher tone he uses, the one that makes your skin crawl and you immediately lower your head in an obedience that comes with much training. “‘m sorry,” you say in one hesitated breath, shutting away those darling eyes when shouto drags a thumb over your bottom lip after popping the smoke stick between his own. you lean into him, slightly, foolishly trusting the man with your life. “‘m sorry… i am. r-really, i am—“

you’ve always been meek, todoroki knows that. he’d picked you up from a rundown pound after a hit of inspiration— a whole collection he’d design based off of black and white spots. it had been hard sourcing an amount of Dalmatian hybrids that large— especially after his flimsy childhood friend deku darling and his clumsy pianist partner eijirou had rejected his proposal to take their lot off their hands. they didn’t like the idea of him using real fur, real spots to make a work of art.

out of the bunch he’d brought, shouto kept you. the little pup who cowered in the corner, kept out of sight and out of mind. so instead of turning you into a purse or pair of boots or the fluffy fur coat he’d dreamed of… todoroki kept you, because you were most afraid of him, like you’d soil yourself or cry if the devil popped up to say hello— you didn’t love him, or pretend to at first. you were as real as could be, you didn’t fake it just to be near shouto.

you were perfect.

“c’mon pet, sit with me.” standing to his full height, looming over you— shouto hooks two fingers under your collar, the one he had custom made for you in his colours of red and white, dragging you over to the couch placed in the centre of the room. the leather digs into your skin, your eyes bulging at the lack of aid which fizzles across your empty little brain. “did you miss me, today?”

you sit back on your haunches when todoroki sinks into the couch, your teary eyes instantly and obediently shooting down to his half-hard cock as he man-spreads in his seat. fear breeds obedience, the more scared you are the easier it had been for shouto to train you to behave how he wanted, to be used how he wanted.

nodding, you whine and shouto tuts in disapproval.

“your words, darling.”

“i d-did, i missed you s-shouto!” you perk up a little too quickly at the pet name, smaller-than-his hands resting on the swell of the designer’s thigh before your ears flatten back as if you know that you’ve made a mistake, leaning your baby fat cheek on his leg in hopes of making an apology. “i-i mean sir!”

“what a good girl you are.”

shouto leers down at you, his eyes glinting with iniquity— the glistening gem colours darkening as if raging stormy clouds had blocked out the sun. he reaches out to pet you, and though you wince it’s easy for you to keen into his touch at the slightest hint of praise. “is that why you touched yourself while i was away?” he tilts his head, lips in a faux but cold pout as you simper out for him. “i can smell it on you, you filthy little mutt, soaked on your skin, slicked up on those precious fucking thighs.” suddenly, he grips your puppy dog ears, and the wag of your excited tail slows to a stop. “you disappoint me. you couldn’t even wait until i returned home. for you.”

for you.

only when your eyes brim with apologetic and fat tears, does shouto let go of your sore spotted ear— amused in how you sniffle, frozen in your place by fear. but there’s love in his eyes too, taking the form of heart shaped pupils as his gaze hones in on your messy, teary state. there should be hate blooming in your chest instead of love and yearning. this is the man that took you from your family; saw you as nothing more than fabric between stitches and buttons every time you whined and called out for the pups in your litter.

tapping his food against the floor again, shouto commands your attention. “i’ve worked so hard to keep you safe, pet, you know that’s why i work so hard,” one hand guides yours to the bulge between your owner’s thighs while the other brushes over the pink curve of your bottom lip. “designing and designing…” he pulls you up close, hunching over you at the same so that you’re a breath’s width apart.

your breathing is ragged, chest heaving in anticipation as shouto parts his lips— letting a clear, heavy wad of drool drip from his mouth onto the palette of your eager puppy tongue.

“do you know what i made?”

the question barely registers in your mind as you swallow a haziness of lust taking over— clouding your eyes and a hunger to please clawing it’s way up your throat. “nuh-uh,” you say breathlessly, tilting your head up for more, earning another glob of spit on your tongue. your tiny little hand starts to move on it’s own accord, pawing back and forth, back and forth against your owner’s dress pants. your tail picks up again, adorably swishing from side to side feeling shouto throb beneath your talented little fingertips— blood pulsing through his clothed girth.

“do i have to tell you again, pet? use your words.” todoroki relents, taking your lip between his teeth— taunting you, nearly kissing you but not quite because he knows how much you need it. he knows that if he keeps you on the blurred line between pain and pleasure, fear and felicity…you’ll behave accordingly, become easily malleable into the perfect pet.

“i-i’m not sure, sir.”

“spots.”

it’s so adorable how you go rigid, turning to stone though your heart beats in your chest and your hand rubs harder, greedier at the hard on growing beneath shouto’s expensive clothes. your eyes continue to sparkle too, with desperation to take his cock deep into your salivating mouth, pink tongue rolling out like a puppy in the wind. he sees the way your thighs stick together, grazing one another as your hole slicks itself up— ready for the taking. if he could bend you over, pull your ass cheeks apart, todoroki has no doubt that your little wagging tail would be covered in strings of your potent arousal, oozing in thick waves from your spasming puppy cunt.

he knows this for a fact, not only because hybrids like yourself are wetter, messier to aid the breeding process, but because you love being scared just as much as you so pathetically adore todoroki. you enjoy the flicker of your brain between fight or flight, how he makes your blood run cold or threatens your life as if it hangs in the balance.

mistakenly, you love shouto todoroki— and you think he might feel the same about you. you think if you behave and perform tricks, if you’re obedient just like he had taught you to be..that he might keep you safe. cherish you.

maybe that’s all true, maybe cruella isn’t so cruel. maybe he finds it in his ice laden heart to care for you just a bit… and not just because you’re a cute little pup trained to suck his pretty dick.

“i’m thinking of making another fur coat,” a wicked chuckle rumbles the designers throat like thunder in a storm, only interrupted by his hips that shoot up to grind into your hesitating hand— the one that feels out the lengthy shape of him as his precum smears against the fabric of his underwear in opaque white. he drags a finger over your face, looks with hooded eyes as your lashes brush against your cheek and you drag your tongue over his clothed stiff cock. shouto adores your tremble…you think that he might hit you.

you’d deserve it, and he had before—useless little mutts like you needed to know their place if you wanted to stick around. “that’s…that’s nice sir,” you stutter, holding back on your brainless babbles, your hips gyrating into the floor beneath you, unbred and leaky hole clenching around nothing.

a reflex out of fear.

shouto hums, tilting your chin up to face him when your mouth hits his seedy tip through the fabric of his clothes— the heat from your sloppy tongue penetrating through the rough linen layers. “so, pet, if you want to make sure i don’t turn you into something even prettier… into something nice for me to wear,” todoroki sneers huskily, tinged with evil while he uses his grip on you to shove your face into his lap roughly. “then i suggest, you open up that sweet mouth of yours and let me feed you my cock, hm?” that’s how shouto todoroki gets you hooked, he has you running on the fumes of survival instincts— trained to love him, do absolutely anything for him despite how cruelly he may treat you.

though your crystalline puppy dog eyes are screwed shut and your spotted ears, sweaty and sore and pinned to your skull— you manage to pick up on the clink of todoroki’s gucci belt, making you growl low and impatiently. the desire to taste his cum, make him happy, shoots through you like a sedative injected into your veins, targeting your red blood cells and wrapping around them to spread obedience through you. yet again, against your will, you’re coaxed into the dark, cruel enigma that is shouto todoroki, letting him set fire to your body and take over any logical thought in your mind.

cunt dripping, juices sweet as ripened fruit— you peel back the layers of shouto’s garments ( though his pants sit at his slender hips, not fully pulled down )…a mean chuckle resounding in the sex tainted air in the room as you reveal his cock to your innocent stare, letting him lean back into the leather couch. he’s longer than he is thick, mushroomed tip a little purple with blue-tinted veins running up and down the length of him, a shade rivalling his own hungry eyes as he observes your next moves. the entirety of him pulses in your soft grip, the scent of his arousal bleeding from his cockhead sending your dalmation puppy instincts into overdrive. todoroki hisses, painfully hard, as you take him gently between your fingers— your thumb moving with uncertainty to rub his pre into his tip sweetly.

you’re almost ashamed of how much your mouth starts to water, the strings of your own saliva connecting the roof of your mouth to your tongue that writhes in place— aching to taste him, pleasure him with all that you can. the prominent adam’s apple of shouto’s throat bobs, watching with lustful mismatched eyes as you inch forward like a predator hunting it’s prey— reverting back to animalistic instincts while your pupils dilate. his face scrunches, a haughty moan vibrating in his chest when you grip him fully so you can guide him to your mouth—little hand dwarfed by the size of his cock, soft palm grazing the forked vein on the underside of his shaft as it throbs. “oh pet,” todoroki‘s words are drawled, lips between his teeth. “come on, be good.” you do your best to appease him, dragging his bulbous and creamy tip along the seam of your lips, kitten licking him to test the patience of your owner.

you’re frightful that you might have fucked up when you hear his hands slap down against the leather sofa before shouto drags you by your Dalmatian ears off of his girth, his own breathing irratic and irregular— cruel and cold eyes now blazing with hunger. you look up nervously, a whimper brewing on your wet, pre cum glossed lips to find the smoke stick now between his lips ( he’d lost it when kissing you. ).

“help me light it while you get me hard.” he grunts quietly, voice dipping an octave, dripping with a threat. as if he’s promising you danger if you danger if you don’t comply. he fumbles with his loose left pocket for a light after shoving the smoke stick past your wet, arousal soaked lips— maintaining eye contact as he flicks the lighter in front of the rolled tobacco. even though you can tell that todoroki is heavily aroused; you have no choice but to do what he says. he dominates your life, decides whether or not you stay as a fuckable pet or get turned into the next best fashion item. he has power over you even when his dick pulses in your hand and you squeeze him softly, letting his precum guide your movements as you start to palm him to a slow and steady rhythm. once the smoke stick in your mouth is lit, the flame threatening you, shouto takes it from you and places it between his own lips— puffing a ring of smoke into your face.

your wet puppy nose twitches unhappily, but you know that protesting will only end badly for you. that doesn’t seem to calm the racing heartbeat in your puppypussy, however, drooling at the idea of being scolded by your owner.

shouto leans back, tousled half and half hair thrown over the back of the couch— his flesh sticking to it, only caused by the cold sweat your temperate mouth has him in. both of you moan when you finally take him into your mouth, sinking down on him until your nose is pressed against milky flesh just like you’d practiced before. yours is desperate and needy, shouto’s raspy— proud at how well his little pup treats him.

of course, todoroki had to train you to suck cock too, breaching the innocence of your mouth despite your whimpered out protests at the time. he’d soon fucked it into your throat that if you wanted to live, you wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.

“y-you, oh fuck—“ shouto lets out a throaty hybrid noise, a lewd mix between an amused laugh and a deep moan as you flex your saliva laden tongue against the underside of his dick— taking a puff of his tobacco before looking down at you with so much love you might even think it was real. “you’re so pretty pet, so… so pretty.” he knows he’s done a good thing by keeping you, cruella; shouto todoroki brought to his knees by the sinful heat of your hell searing mouth, making him repent for everything he’s ever done wrong. “were you scared, pretty? t-that why you’re taking my cock so fucking well?”

all you can do it nod, swallowing the designer down eagerly in response— a resounding hum sending chills running down his spine as teeth and tongue vibrate around his shaft. you can’t help but let your awe-filled eyes flutter shut at the heaviness of todoroki on your tongue, drooling and dribbling above the place— soaking through his clothes that probably cost more than an entire litter of Dalmatian hybrids such as yourself. he oozes copious sums of precum, thick enough to glue your mouth shut ( like peanut butter for puppies ), filling you up and luring you into going after more.

pleasing him more.

your cheeks swell while you paw desperately at shouto’s ruined lap— breathing deep through your nose before you feel the weight of his hand right between your sensitive puppy dog ears. he tugs at the twitching limbs, twisting them while pushing you down on his aching cock. your throat contracts, cheeks hollowing until you’ve swallowed him down to the base and you’re practically gagging on the length of him, tip brushing against your uvula lips k the way down. poor puppy, you flinch at the slight twinge of pain from where shouto begins to pound your mouth roughly, balls slapping against your chin, slurping mixed with his yowls of delight filling combining with the sweat and sex loaded air. when you flinch, your teeth graze at the sensitive veins wrapping around shouto— making him choke just like you, on a puff of his smoke stick.

“fucking mutt, oh—shit!” he snarls, yanking you off of his tender and red, smarting cock— not caring of the way he holds you hurts you. “watch your fucking mouth, pretty. or i really will turn you into my next fur coat, darling.” the warning is firm, rattling you to your core, your mouth even more so wet and salacious at the fear shouto strikes in you. you’re back on him before you know it, his hips jutting up into the molten heat of your mouth, tip hitting the inside of your cheek, making him shudder every time. todoroki would be lying if he wasn’t obsessed with the way your floppy Dalmatian ears bounded the more he rolled his hips into your mouth, fucking your face. he was even more delighted by your sharp canines just brushing over his shaft, but he wouldn’t admit that.

loosening his tie, he throws his head back in a drawn out gripe, his moans raising a pitch when you grip his swollen balls, full of cum and roll them between dainty fingers. he pulls his smoke stick from his lips, tongue darting out to wet them as he taps the ash against your pretty face. “i think i’ll get you off pet, since you missed me so much. since i feel so bad for scaring you.” todoroki coos with faux sympathy, head lolling down to get a good look at your tear stained cheeks and your clumped together lashes. his dual toned hair now askew.

stilling in surprise, you yelp in shock as shouto shoves a boot between your arousal painted thighs— pressing the toe against your aching, untouched clit that's barely covered by the flimsy baby-doll shorts you usually wear. they’re coated in your sweet honey, and your owner’s mouth hangs open; mocking the darling mewl that would leave your own if you weren’t being stuffed full of cock.

the boot nestles perfectly at your cunt, spreading your swollen pussy lips apart and expostulating it’s in your sweltering heat. “you’re this wet? from hardly being touched?” he mocks you, pulling his foot back to stimulate your core. “oh darling, you’re soaked, pathetically so.” it is; it’s embarrassing how turned on you are from being threatened, fucked like your mouth is a flesh light. how you want him to love you even though you could be killed at any second. “grind that pretty pussy down on me pup, suck me off good and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

doing as you’re told, you work yourself down on shouto— tail thumping against the floor while you circle your hips over the cool leather of his shoe, the material pulling back the hood on your clit and sending shockwaves of dopamine across your brain. puppy dog eyes cross, with tongue running it’s owl circles along todoroki’s shaft. the fact that he looms over you, has all the power in the world to end you servers as your own personal adrenaline but you don’t dare deny that getting him off, gets you off too.

despite trying not to fall apart at every lick and suck you give him, sweat shines on todoroki’s pale winter skin— just as cold as he is, but maybe his evil heart melts a little, maybe having fur is less valuable to him when you weakly pull off him, and your precum-spit glossed lips encapsulate his seedy cockhead as if to makeout with it, running the tip of your tongue through his sensitive slit. “that’s it pet, swallow me down. earn that right to cum.” simpering, shouto grabs the sides of your head— holding you in place as his ploughs his hips and dick shallowly into o-shape of your mouth, battering about inside of it.

the cigarette he smokes just barely burns marks into the black spots or your ears, making you whimper out despite desperately thrusting down against your owner’s foot, practically riding it while a tight knot forms in your lower stomach and your puppycunt gushes about the place.

todoroki lets you go once he’s exerted himself, a mop of sweaty red and white locks dangling over the back of the couch. the world wouldn’t believe it it they saw their beloved cruella now; twitching and heaving as he stares his Dalmatian puppy down, marvelling in the way you spit down onto his bulbous and dripping cockhead before joining you in doing the same. the frothy white and bubbly mix crudely runs down his shaft, and you’re quick to lick it up from the balls to his slit again.

“oh fuck, pretty darling. you’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”

you don’t answer, jerking the man off as you look up at him so debauched; yet so innocent. he can see you fight the cross in your eyes as he wiggles his boot against your hardened pleasure nub, a cream staining the leather.

“w-words pet. tell me or you really won’t get to cum.”

you remember your desperation to be adored by shouto, as well as the release that sneaks up on you. so you find your words though your voice is hoarse from your throat being ravaged and decorated with precum. “i want you always sir,” you plead. “for you to always feel g-good with me!”

shouto grins, menacing, borderline crazy— it makes your pussy lips quiver while he angles his foot up, right as you drag your fluttering entrance over the toe. “you know just what to say to get me close, darling,” he says, grabbing hold of his own dick to tap it against your slobbery puppy tongue, feeding it to you again and thriving in the way that you tilt your head, angling it so he can fuck your cheek makinf your skin bulge. “gonna cum…pet, ‘n you’re gonna be obedient. hold it, until i’m finished with you…or you’re dead. meat.”

he punctuates his words with two rough thrusts, flinching with ecstasy, voice trembling. todoroki doesn’t let up in teasing your pulsating pussy, shaking his foot as you bump and grind against the shoe to your hearts content— fighting not to lose your orgasm while simultaneously dragging shouto to the edge of his own. it’s obscene the way both your mouth and cunt squelch, your owner leaking ungodly amounts of arousal into your mouth and down your chin ( though you’re no better, hot wet pussy ruining his shoes for good ).

todoroki loses his pace, smoke stick just missing his lips from how irregular and languid his thrusts are and before you know it, he’s taken a hold of your sore dog ears once more— his high takint him by surprise. “holy fuck, that’s it pet, be a good fucking dog, take it all. my seed.” the world around shouto todoroki falls away into mismatched pieces, warm and viscous cum flooding your mouth in waves; and you can’t even stop, sloppily worshipping his cock and all they it offers you as if todoroki is your god.

he might as well be, the way controls whether you live or die; even as you stare up at hearts dazzling your eyes. you need him to love you, to be proud of you. “so g-good, god pet. you’re wonderful,” the cruelty of cruella praises you, still filling you the brim with seed that sits salty on your tongue. todoroki takes a drag of his cigarette, feeling loopy, happier than ever with his decision to keep you.

lewdly, he drags shapes onto your swollen clit too, rocking his shoe against you— amused at how you struggle to keep your release at bay. tapping out the ash of his tobacco one last time, todoroki puts it out by singing the end of his cigarette into your spotted puppy ear again— smiling at your low, whistle tone whine.

“cum.” he commands, smearing his ruined cock against your lips. “or else, you won’t get another chance.”

fear breeds obedience and as if on queue, your body follows the order— a clear stream of arousal splashing out hard against the floor from your raw, sticky cunt. the world is a blinding white, black spots eating at the corner of your vision.

by the time you come to, world famous designer cruella— shouto todoroki has returned to petting your hair with gentle care that doesn’t make you fear him any less but makes you love him a little more. he chuckles, red and white hair shaking with it as you sleepy nuzzle his thigh— a mess of cum and tears and spit.

so shouto snaps a picture of you, a perfect muse for his next design.

his obedient and well disciplined, precious dalmation puppy hybrid.

more precious than any spot in the world.

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xxsp3llb0undxx · 2 years

Text

Memories of us

Joel Miller x Reader [2.9k]

Summary - September 26, 2003. The day the world ended, both physically and metaphorically. Joel Miller lost a piece of him that day, now what was he supposed to do?

WARNINGS: USUAL VIOLENCE ,, BLOOD ,, GORE ,, DEATH ,, PURE AND UTTER HEART WRENCHING SADNESS ,, AGE GAP (READER IS MID 20s)

Please do not repost my work to other sites or claim as your own, this is purely written from my imagination and from the help of the series. All rights of the main storyline goes to the writers and producers of The Last Of Us.

MASTERLIST TLOU

Today was Joel's birthday, like always he didn't want anyone making a fuss about it. Just because he was a year older didn't mean he had to celebrate getting closer to his death date. What he didn't realise though, was his daughter Sarah and his new found lover, Y/n, had decided to surprise him with breakfast.

The noise of pots and pans clashing against each other stirred Joel awake, of all days he woke up before his alarm it just had to be his birthday. Joel pulled himself out of bed and went to get changed, he had work to do today and he knew Tommy was gonna be on his ass all day if he was late.

Making his way downstairs, he heard soft chatter in the kitchen. The sound of his two girls brought a smile to his face, god he was so lucky to have them in his life. Once he entered the kitchen, the scene in front of him made him stare in awe. Sarah and Y/n were wearing matching aprons, egg shells spread across the counter. The two girls were giggling about god know what but the sight in front of Joel made his heart swarm with warmth.

Sarah was the first to notice her dad stood near the dining table, she ran over to him and tackled the older male into a hug. "Happy birthday! How old are you now?" Joel could hear the slight sarcasm lacing her words as she asked him the question. He put a hand over his chest and pulled the most exaggerated shocked expression he could do. "You don't know how old I am?" Laughter erupted from the pair, gaining the attention of the younger woman, who was surprisingly still whisking the eggs.

Y/n turned towards the culprits making so much noise, a soft smile etched on her lips. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, egg yolk smeared across her apron. Y/n made her way over to Joel, her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as she pulled her body flush against his own. A light kiss placed against his lips made Joel feel giddy, he felt young again whenever she was around him.

Once everyone had settled down, Y/n continued to make breakfast. A cup of coffee was placed beside the stove where she was frying the eggs. She turned to look at her partner and gave him a light peck on the cheek as a way to show her gratitude. Once the food was done, Y/n started to plate it up and hand them out to Sarah and Joel. She made sure to keep some for Tommy when he came round to get Joel before they headed to work together.

The trio were sat at the dining table, Y/n zoning in and out of the conversation Joel and Sarah were having. The front door slamming shook her out of her trance, Tommy, Joel's younger brother, greeted the family as he walked over to the kitchen. "Where's my food? Did you guys forget about me?" Joel rolled his eyes at his younger brother, he knew his brother was joking but siblings could be annoying sometimes.

Y/n pointed towards the fridge, the scrambled eggs were definitely cold by now but it beats them being left on the counter for anything to happen to them. Tommy nodded at the young woman, mumbling a soft thank you. He contemplated heating them up or to just eat them the way they were, he decided on the latter. Once everyone had finished eating, they all got ready to leave the house. Joel and Tommy got in the truck, preparing to get to work early; not without Joel getting his goodbye kiss from Y/n though, the scene made Tommy and Sarah cringe.

Y/n was on her way back from work, driving towards Sarah's school to pick her up. The two girls had made a plan to go to the watchmaker in downtown Texas to get Joel's watch repaired. He kept it in the top draw of his dresser, it was left untouched for a long time and Sarah and Y/n thought it would be sentimental to get it fixed for him and gift it back as if it were brand new.

Sarah hopped into the passenger seat once Y/n had pulled up. The sound of jets up above shot through the clear sky, Y/n stalled for a second before putting the car in drive. The trip to downtown Texas was longer than usual, traffic seemed to swarm both lanes as the two girls tried to make it to the watchmakers before they closed.

Once they had arrived, Y/n put the car in park and then shut it off. Sarah was the first to get out as she manoeuvred her way to the store, the older female slowly following behind. Everything was going well, the watch was almost repaired when the store owners wife, or so Y/n thought, came rushing out from the back panicking about closing the store early and for the two girls to leave and go home because it wasn't safe. The store owner wrapped everything up as fast as he could, the watch now repaired and tucked safely into a grey box.

Once they had left the store, the door slammed shut and the 'closed' sign now on full display. Y/n shook her head as she unlocked the car for the both of them to get in, things were feeling too odd today and she knew it was upsetting Sarah. The drive back home wasn't as bad as they thought it would be, the traffic had lightened up and they were able to get home safely and without any delays.

Sarah was on the couch watching the TV as Y/n was making dinner, spaghetti and meatballs. She knew it wasn't much but there was barely anything in the house to cook up because Joel forgot to buy the groceries, again. The sound of the front door opening and closing made the young woman jump, she wasn't expecting Joel back this early. Y/n could hear the chatter of Sarah and her father in the living room, she didn't know what she would do with them.

Sarah had fallen asleep on the couch after the trio had eaten dinner and decided to watch a movie, the one Sarah had borrowed from the Adler's a couple days ago. Joel's phone started to ring, he shot an apologetic look at Y/n, she proceeded to wave him off as she went to pick Sarah up to bring her to bed. Once she had tucked the young girl into bed, she made her way downstairs only to be met with Joel putting his boots back on. "What did Tommy do this time?" Y/n knew it had to be something he did, Joel would always get a call at the same time each week and it would be Tommy on the other end.

The look of guilt swimming in Joel's deep brown eyes said the words he couldn't pull himself to say right now, with a sigh Y/n pulled the older male in for a hug and told him to be safe and to make it back home soon. He pecked her lips and then left the house, god if only he knew the world was about to turn to shit.

An hour had passed by and no sign of Joel or Tommy yet, the streets were quite and dark, it was like the whole world had turned the lights off. A bang from the window made Y/n jump, she slowly stepped towards the noise and checked what it was. She saw the Adler's dog Mercy stood on the lawn, the fur on his back pinned straight up, his eyes darting back and forth from the darkness of the street. Y/n went outside and called Mercy over to bring him back to his owners, but he had other plans, Mercy somehow freed himself from his collar and bolted behind the houses.

A shiver ran down Y/n's spine as a low growl like noise sounded from the Adlers house. Without warning, the door slams wide open and Alexandra Adler comes running full speed in Y/n's direction. Lucky she saw it coming from a mile off and started running as fast as she could back into Joel's house. She slammed the door shut and locked it, placing one of the dining chairs under the handle. Y/n shot straight for the stairs and ran into Sarah's room, closing the door behind her as she tried her best to compose herself.

The young Miller was still soundlessly asleep, curled up under her comforter. Y/n shook the girl awake, a finger against her lips signalling Sarah to be quiet. Panic swarmed her eyes, she was scared; of course she was, Joel wasn't here and the only other person with her was a child who was panicking for her life. The mother she always wished to be, kicked in. She held Sarah's face in her hands, the tears already cascading down the young girls cheeks, it broke Y/n's heart; she was not going to let anything happen to Sarah as long as she was here.

Y/n picked up the lamp that was situated on Sarah's bedside table, she turned to the crying girl and hugged her close, she didn't know if this would be the last time she would ever hold her, but what she knew was she would do anything to protect her from any harm. Y/n opened the bedroom door slowly, peaking her head out to check if the coast was clear. She could no longer hear Mrs Adler throwing her body against the front door, that's what probably scared her the most.

Y/n made her way to the top of the stairs and what was waiting at the bottom made a scream rip through the eerily quite house. The old woman's head snapped up and stared Y/n dead in the eyes, a screech sounded from the woman as she descended the stairs. Y/n was thrown to the floor with a thud, Mrs Adler on top of her clawing at her arms. The lamp, which was once in Y/n's hands, was thrown in front of Sarah's bedroom door, Y/n knew if she didn't do something soon she would meet her end. With all her strength, she pulled her legs up to her chest and kicked Mrs Adler off of her, throwing the older woman's body halfway down the stairs.

Rushing over to the lamp she lifted it up just in time for Mrs Adler to get up and run at her head on, and in one swift movement she smashed the porcelain base of the lamp against the old woman's head. She fell down to the floor with a shriek, her body spasming. Hit after hit, every blow to the frail woman's head made blood splatter against Y/n's face and the walls surrounding the pair.

The sound of a truck pulling up in front of the house broke Y/n out of her trance. Sarah had come out of her room mere seconds after Mrs Adler was finally 'dead'. The two girls walked down the stairs, hand in hand as Joel came rushing in, panic evident on his face. The front door was wide open, the door frame splintering. Once his eyes locked on his two girls, he ran over to them, tears pricking his eyes. Joel knew this wasn't the time to do this but he needed to make sure they were both okay and unharmed.

Sarah was unscathed, she was perfectly fine other than obviously being traumatised for the rest of her life. Y/n on the other hand, was covered in scratches and blood, her eyes were glazed; like she wanted to cry but couldn't find the energy to do so. He brought them both to the truck, where Tommy was waiting with his rifle. Y/n and Sarah were sat in the back, Joel in the passenger seat. Sarah was rambling on about something Y/n couldn't hear, it was as if she was trapped underwater, her hearing flowing in and out of tune. She could only make out one thing and that was Tommy saying "We need to get out of here."

Minutes felt like hours as the group drove down roads trying to find an exit, everything was either blocked off or rammed with traffic. Tommy took the roads into the town, hoping he could find a better way through. Before anyone could register what was happening, a plane literally dropped from the sky, it was encased in flames and wasn't slowing down. Tommy tried to out run it but instead, the truck totalled; the windshield shattering at the impact of the truck's roof hitting the ground. Smoke started pouring from the hood, Joel had blood smeared from the wound on his head and Sarah's leg was pulled into an awkward position, hopefully nothing was broken.

The group got out the truck, Joel, Sarah and Y/n on one side and Tommy on the other; he was trapped over there. "Don't worry, I'll find a way round and I'll catch up to you guys." With that said they went their separate ways. Sarah was having difficulty walking so Joel picked her up in his arms and started heading down an alley, when they made it out onto the other side, they had unintentionally blocked themselves in with those virus riddled people. The trio tried to be as quiet as possible but apparently that wasn't enough, one of them noticed the group and screeched in their direction.

Joel looked around, trying to find a way out of the alley, he noticed there was a door behind him and lucky it was unlocked. The trio ran through the diner, Y/n, who was behind Joel and Sarah, pulled down anything she could see to try and buy them more time. After what felt like forever, Joel finally found a door to which he was hoping would lead them outside and as far away as possible from this thing.

Once they were outside again, they just kept running but that thing wouldn't give up, it was trailing right behind Y/n. A gun shot ripped through the air and the body of the thing chasing them fell to the ground, blood seeping from the wound in it's head. A man dressed in all black stood out in the open by a truck, he was holding a gun in his hands, his grip tight on it. "Are any of you infected?" His voice was shaky, the barrel of the gun aiming at the trio in front of him.

Joel set Sarah down and pushed her behind him, Y/n stood right beside the pair. With his hands raised just above his head, he took a small step forward as he spoke. "No, sir. We're not infected." The man radioed in, probably speaking to his supervisor. Are you sure, sir? Okay, sir. Yes, sir. The barrel of his gun pointed back at the trio, small whimpers sounding from Sarah. "We're not infected. We're not infected. Please we're not infected." Joel kept repeating. Y/n pushed Sarah down the small hill beside them just before he started shooting. Joel jumped out the way, pulling Y/n with him. He thought they were all fine, that none of the bullets hit them.

The soldier walked over to the ditch and got ready to shoot again but before he had the chance, he was shot in the head. Tommy walked over from the shadows, Joel greeting him and asking him where he was. A blood curdling scream pulled the Miller brothers attentions back to Y/n and Sarah. Tears streamed down Sarah's face, there was blood on her hands. Joel ran over to her, checking her for any injuries but she was fine. He looked over at Y/n and saw her shirt, more like his shirt, stained with blood; too much blood.

Joel was frozen in place, he didn't know what do to. Y/n reached into her bag slung across her body and dug out the grey box from earlier, handing it over to Joel with a small card attached to it. "Happy birthday, cowboy." In a matter of second of wishing Joel a happy birthday, Y/n went limp, her skin sickly pale and sweaty. Joel cradled her body in his arms, screams and cries ripping through his throat. How could he not have noticed her get hit? How can he live with himself now? Tommy had to drag him away from her body, blood stained his clothes and skin. He wished he could just lay there with her forever and forget that today ever existed, but he knew he had to fight, to survive. He picked Sarah up again, he had to protect her now, he couldn't let anything happen to his baby girl now that Y/n was gone.

#the last of us #the last of us series #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou series #frank tlou #tlou bill #tlou henry #tlou sam #joel miller #joel miller x reader #sarah miller #sarah miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader

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kokiriofthevalley · 9 months

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My silly little Ganondorf headcannons

(curing my boredom and my first post on tumblr lol anyways)

Ocarina Of Time

✷he wears gold lipstick/makeup that was commissioned by him from the other gerudo that has very specific, precise and even rare ingredients that can't be made better anywhere else in Hyrule

✷i feel like his usual outfit was made to go to Hyrule, rather than be an outfit he typically wears while in gerudo fortress and his actual outfits look similar to his people's, maybe because it's traditionally considered more feminine? And he felt like they (Hyrule) wouldn't take him seriously unless he was conforming to Hyrule's gender binary of clothes

✷I feel like he'd be really reserved at any type of function or party that's not hosted by him/any other gerudo, like an older sibling at a birthday party. But he would be civil and "involved" with others when he knows it means gaining and maintaining a reputation

✷you would not catch him DEAD doing karaoke if any hylian is there or in a 100 mile radius dear GOD but give him more than a few drinks and leave him by himself and when you come back he'd be soloing "I need a hero" in no time

Wind Waker

✷I already wonder what he did everyday for the past however long between getting out/being freed from the sacred realm and kidnapping blonde children

✷but I think he would send bokoblins and moblins to raid islands for their books, specifically history and folklore books so he could not only gather info of what's happened over how ever long he had been gone but also get at least an idea of what happened to the hero of time and/or princess Zelda afterwords

✷ I'm not even going to lie, when he kidnapped that rich girl that link has to save and she becomes poor, he definitely stole her eyeliner if she had it on her, or he at least got his monsters to raid some woman's makeup drawer

✷He would 100% duet "gotta go my own way" with the helmaroc king while drunk, he would let himself have fun and sing 'cringe' songs he's tired ok

He would do Gabriellas part let's not lie here

Twilight Princess

✷He would get into the Salty Spitoon just by walking past it on the street

✷I personally think he wrapped up the sword of the six sages because it glowed like a light saber and it gave away his location at least one time to some random ass person he then had to kill

At LEAST once thinking about it is so funny lol, you see some tall guy with a glowing stick while going to buy a bag of flour or something and now you're dead lol

✷when he's in bed and he's recalling his earlier days, he definitely cringes to himself at the fact that he got snitched on by a child who most likely can't tell you what a verb, an adjective or a hyperbole is

✷he has to take off his crown(?) when he goes to bed (and even IF he does sleep) because he tried to go to bed with it on once and woke up to his pillow absolutely torn the FUCK up, like it was just rags at that point

Tears Of The Kingdom

This one is gut feelings because I haven't played it yet because I'm broke and if anyone sees this pls don't comment spoilers 😭

✷takes VERY good care of himself/his appearance and definitely has people who work in Hyrule castle who have a crush on him (both male and female and also gender nonconforming)

✷Trained from an early age to fight, but specialized in swordplay and archery, rather than fighting with his bare fists

✷I saw from others posts that don't have spoilers that he absolutely dispises rauru. He would 100% act petty. He would subtlety deform rarus cutlery if they all have a meal together when nobody is looking. not to the point where it's obviously bent but like the handles aren't straight at all now and he knows that they can't fix it unless they completely melt the forks and knives down to reform them

✷He also definitely "discovered" a broken window or two in Hyrule castle

#zelda #ganon #Ganondorf #oot #tp #ww #totk #ocarina of time #twilight princess #wind waker #tears of the kingdom #pls no totk spoilers #ganondorf headcannons #headcanon #the legend of zelda #more like headGANONS am i right??

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ladyloveandjustice · 2 years

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Fall 2022 Anime Overview: Five Anime!

I’ve done a lengthier review of Mobile Suit Gundam:The Witch from Mercury you can read here and now it’s time to tackle the five other anime I watched last season!

There’s some anime I chose to save for later, like Bocchi the Rock! (which I’m watching now and enjoying) and Raven of the Inner Palace, though I’ve heard great things about it and it’s a rare shoujosei adaptation so definitely go check it out! I might do a review of that when I do get to watch it, since it’s been overlooked this season with so many heavy hitters.

But onto what I did watch!

Akiba Maid War

This jaw-dropping genre pastiche takes the tropes of yakuza cinema and applies them to early 2000′s maid cafes in Akihabara locked in bloody war. Young Nagomi dreams of working in a maid cafe, only to find when she goes to work for the Oinky-Doink cafe (yes, they’re pig themed) that the cafe is heavily in debt and rival maid cafes are gunning to take it down. She’s protected by the deadly 35 year-old maid Ranko, who has a dark past.

Akiba Maid War is wild from start to finish. It starts up with shootout where Ranko kills a ton of maids perfectly timed to a cutesy maid cafe music performance and doesn’t let up from there. There’s a side-splitting bloody baseball episode, a deadly boxing match, and more. The comedy is endlessly entertaining- the way the maids continue to use their stupid animal puns even as they engage in yakuza style violence kills me- but it also has quite a few dark twists in line with its inspiration. This a show that could have easily come off as making fun of conventional femininity or indulged in tons of fanservice, but it doesn’t do either of those things. It’s just women in ridiculous outfits fighting each other and getting into ridiculous situations. It’s just utterly committed to its bit in a way that’s admirable.

I wouldn’t saw this a show with many big themes- though there’s the expected “can we stop the cycle of violence” one that comes up later. But there are some smaller things it’s very consistent about, and one of them is the message that if you want to be a cute, you are, and fuck anyone who says otherwise. Ranko is 35 (later 36) and is also utterly terrifying with a deep voice, but she repeatedly states that age has nothing to do with being cute or a maid, and when rival maids shit-talk her for being older than them they’re always framed as villains and shut down. The series coda especially hammers in it’s message of ‘women in their 30s are cute and can be whatever they want’. This shouldn’t be notable, but anime is well known for acting like any woman over 22 is a hideous old...maid, so it’s actually pretty refreshing. Ranko is fantastic.

If you can stomach exaggerated violence (I would call it an anime that revels in gore and the violence is cartoonish half the time, but lots of folks get shot), I definitely recommend this one. It’s a fun (and occasionally heartbreaking) ride. Definitely in my top 5 for the year.

Chainsaw Man

After being exploited by the yakuza ,the teenaged Denji gains the ability to turn into a ‘chainsaw devil” and is recruited by a shady government organization. He’s told that if he doesn’t work for them to kill other devils, he’ll be killed himself. Denji’s perfectly happy with this, because after a hard life he’s only interested in a warm bed, three meals a day, and his dream of touching a boob. Teamed up with a blood-crazed demon girl and babysat by a tired veteran demon hunter, Denji doesn’t realize the ominous machinations closing in on him...

I enjoyed this anime, and it inspired me to read the manga, which I enjoyed even more. It’s a fun time full of monsters and weirdos and there are themes of being exploited by your workplace and all that good stuff. But I’m not going to count it among my favorites, because honestly, the early Chainsaw Man material isn’t the strongest. Though a good deal of it is needed to build up what the manga does later, a lot of it feels meandering.

Denji is also a bit repetitively horny in the early chapter/episodes (though he at least hops the bar-in-hell most horny anime boys don’t manage to slither over and doesn’t violate consent). Unlike most horny anime guys, his immature attitude is a little understandable as he grew up isolated from other people with little education, this is all new to him. He does develop as a character (shocking twist, I know) as he slowly gains more of an understanding of how to approach the idea of sex in a way that works for him. But it takes 5 episodes to get him on that track. I don’t blame the anime for this like most. They definitely added a few sequences to stretch things out, but it does adapt roughly three chapters per episode, which isn’t a bad pace (and is pretty much needed to fit the first arcs into a 12 episode space). And if they cut anything out, fans would be throwing an even bigger fit than they already are. (It’s very funny to see the same fans that complain about the slow pacing turn around and complain about a small sequence cut out of the second episode. WHICH IS IT GUYS, THEY CAN’T DO BOTH).

I think Chainsaw Man fans need to acknowledge the early material just isn’t as as good as the later stuff, and being able to binge-read it in manga form just helps. The anime can’t do much about that, and it’s clearly a cinematic all-star production, with lovingly animated new ending credits and songs for each individual episode, so I don’t have a lot of sympathy for complaining fans when I had to endure Sailor Moon Crystal and a million yuri adaptations kneecapped by production woes. It’s a good anime doing what it can with the material it has, y’all try having real anime problems for once.

Rant aside, Chainsaw Man has a lot of good action, and importantly to me, a fun range of fucked up women. It’s also the rare anime that plays into the horror of an adult woman grooming a teenage boy. The anime does a good job of throwing up the red flags for Makima, yet she’s so good at what she does you almost fall for her alongside Denji. There’s also the loveable, feral demon-girl Power, who hits a lot of my adoration buttons. I do love that for once, the guy and girl teen leads of a shonen manga are truly just buddies, she and Denji have a fun vitriolic friendship. Because of the themes of the story, there’s an unlikely confluence most of the women Denji meets manipulating him by offering sexual favors, which is unfortunate if you read into it. But I honestly just think the author just likes terrible women, which hey, same. Overall, the anime got me to read the manga, and now that I’ve devoured it all, I’ll be happy to consume next season at whatever pace it goes. I just hope those unfortunate animators at Mappa get some rest.

Do it Yourself!

Teenager Yua Serufu (yes that’s a pun and it is bought up) is separated by the best friend who gets into a fancy tech school. Yua is endlessly clumsy, but when she runs into a cool girl, she becomes interested in joining the Do It Yourself! club and do some carpentry and crafting. The club quickly grows, but can Yua lure her estranged bff into the fold?

This is just a cute show with cute animation about girls working with power tools. It’s relaxing and sweet and there’s not much else to say about it. It’s set five minutes into the future, but it did handle it’s themes of tech vs analogue well, with the ultimate message being “now that we have all this cool tech, we should focus on doing what we want, like working with our hands”, which is nice in these troubled times. The characters are very archetypal- Yua’s friend is a sympathetic tsundere, there’s a girl who says ‘nya’ a lot, etc. It’s a little noticeable that the American exchange student is way more fleshed out than the South-Asian one (we don’t even get her country of origin stated in the show) and there’s a weird moment with the little robot watching the girls bathing. Other than that, not much to warn for. It’s a sweet show, but it likely won’t set your world on fire.

Spy x Family Season 2

More Spy x Family, and it continues to be a lot of fun! I enjoyed season 1 a lot, but unfortunately this season covers some of the weaker material in the manga, where the story seemed to be spinning its wheels with a lot of one shots. Because of how the seasons are separated, it’s also incredibly noticeable how underutilized Yor (assassin mom) is in this one and how little we know about her job. Honestly, I don’t think that’s entirely down to sexism or anything, I wonder if the writer was just struggling with how to make readers root for Yor hunting down and killing a man- it’s a pretty big ask for that to be the main focus of an arc in a family-friendly comedy. But fortunately, he does eventually figure it out, and there’s a good Yor arc full of strong material coming up right where this season cuts off, so look forward to that.

For some reason, they also cut out one of my favorite sidestory chapters with Yor. Considering that they adapted all the other sidestories and even added material this season, I wonder if they’re just saving it for the next one? They better be. Anyway, Anya’s still great, there’s a cute dog, it’s still a fun anime, but not as strong as the first season. Fortunately, there’s good stuff coming up.

Mob Psycho 100 Season 3

It’s the final season of Mob Psycho! This is a quieter season than Season 2, but the show’s themes of identity and accepting oneself remain strong. Episode 6 made me emotional about a character I’d never had any emotions about before, there’s a cute little mini-arc focusing on everyone’s favorite weird alien-obsessed girl and the finale is a perfect cap on both Mob and Reigen’s development. It’s a beautiful culmination of all the growth we’ve seen in the relationship that’s the heart of the show. I appreciated that, as small as they were, we got some glimpses of the real, grounded girl that exists behind Mob’s idolization of his crush Tsubomi. It was a nice touch that she lost her sparkly anime eyes and she got plainer ones like the other characters as it was impressed on us she doesn’t exist on a pedestal. It’s just all around solid material. I’ll miss this show a lot.

#akiba maid war #mob psycho 100 #chainsaw man #do it yourself #do it yourself!#spy x family #anime overview #fall 2022 anime #my reviews #recs

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