#because I love them and they’re delightful

[hotvintagepoll]

Ava Gardner and Gregory Peck (The Snows of Kilimanjaro, On the Beach)—no propaganda submitted

Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant (Holiday, Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story)—They're both unspeakably hot and putting them together only makes them that much hotter. Because physically attractive people are WAY hotter when they're also incredibly funny, and both of them are. They play off each other to perfection, and I could eat them both ❤️

This is round 3 of a mini tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Gardner and Peck:

Hepburn and Grant:

Truly two of the hottest people ever to grace our screens and when you put them together, it's volcanic. They are totally magnetic on screen together, with the perfect love/hate chemistry. The ultimate 'you drive me crazy' couple, no one is doing it like them.

They are delight and joy and ALSO insanely hot together. Friendships have ended over the ship war of The Philadelphia Story, and you know what? Valid.

They are the hottest couple because they are clever, witty and beautiful. They spark off each other magnificently.

I feel like they’re almost too obvious to bother submitting but I’ve made that mistake before so Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn. I present Bringing Up Baby and The Philadelphia Story as evidence, your honor

Perfect onscreen match in some of the greatest romcoms ever. My, they were yar!

Cary Grant & Katherine Hepburn! They're my favorites! Dapper & ridiculous both!

I'm sorry, that's not a very romantic pic, but I had to include the serenading the leopard

and the fluffy bathrobe!

[bomberqueen17]

how it's going

I am delighted so far by the responses to the post about signing up to beta/cheer-read the solarpunk tallship bisexuals novel I've decided to really give a go this year-- if you missed it, this is the post-- I have gone through and added everyone who signed up so far and it's a lovely mix of names I know and names I don't, not so many people it'd be hard to keep track and not so few that I'm worried about burning somebody out or totally winding up relying on one poor reader to keep my sanity going. I am also always pumped to get a lurker to de-lurk and say hi, not that there's anything wrong with lurking, I've got a few spaces where I lurk because that's what I need from that space. But it's always nice to be able to like, relate to somebody, y'know?

Not that you can really talk a lot in a google doc. I admit a lot of what's kept me going on Witcher has been having various little Discord threads where I can paste in whatever line I'm smug about, or that I'm stuck on for workshopping, and having a conversation about it, and not having that (I have a thread going in a Witcher discord but since it's off-topic it's kind of... well, low-traffic). I don't know if it's feasible to make a new Discord so I probably won't. But.

Anyway I will at some point turn that form off, but it seems to have worked pretty well so far as a method for adding people specifically to the doc, and I will leave it open and keep checking it for a little longer if any of y'all reading this were on the fence about signing up. I just can't rattle around alone in that doc and still keep my momentum. I'm only up to chapter three or so and the main plot hasn't even started but there's thusfar been at least one really confusing action sequence and I've realized that I've got a serious case of zero visual information being conveyed, so that's been helpful. Even with only a couple of readers-- ha, even the last couple of hours before I started adding people to the doc it had already done a lot of its job because I started proofreading with an audience in mind, which in my case tends to improve readability, which is what I want.

Listen, there's a noble purpose in telling stories for their own sake to yourself, but the idea of telling a story so that others can understand it is important to and I value it highly. So. That's what this is about.

So I've got a few people poking around in there with me and I feel much better about life and have some hopes I might make it over the hump into a real plot now, LOL.

But I think I'm gonna snippet post, which I haven't much with this work yet! (Have I? I forget. I started it in the fugue state of pre-holiday fuckery last year so who knows.)

bah i can't find a good snippet. well, here's a recently-composed one anyway.

As they approached the ship, Tom said, “You’ll tell the others, yeah? Simmons didn’t know. It ain’t his fault.” “I don’t know as it’ll help,” Keller said. “They’re mighty displeased about how you been treated. It reflects on them, y’know?” “It’s not so bad,” Tom said. “I’d rather be here than escorting the Barka convoy back to Subia in Jeanette all by my lonesome knowing damn well Righteous is waiting there for me with a bone in her teeth. No thank you, I’d rather not be set up on a suicide run like that. And you know if I got killed in a fourteen-gun sloop facing down a bloody-minded forty-gun privateer they’d tut-tut and say a proper Subian gentleman could’ve won.” “Oh sir,” Keller said. “You know they’d say that,” Tom said. “You know they would. No thank you, I will take my lumps and stick with Haines and I’ll thank you not to force me to defend poor Simmons the entire time. It weren’t none of his doing, Henry Keller, but that don’t mean I want to have to argue with the rest of you lot about him every blessed day of this commission.” “He’s also an ignorant sod,” Keller pointed out. “It don’t signify,” Tom said. “You know me and Yardley won’t let no harm come to the ship.” “Oh, Yardley,” Keller said. “I forgot he’s aboard. He’s been scarce.” Tom rolled his eyes. “He’s taking it well, too,” he said. He rummaged through the few parcels he’d brought back, and pulled out a bag and handed it over to Keller. “Share that out with your mess-mates,” he said. “And tell them-- it ain’t his fault, at all.” Keller took the bag with pleasure-- it was candy, Tom knew they’d have liked liquor better but he didn’t dare risk them being found with it and punished, with Simmons and not him in charge, so candy was safer. Keller looked back up at Tom, weatherbeaten face crinkled with a grin, and said, with a wry, grudging concession, “I’ll tell them.”

[musicismymoirail]

Resketched and colored some of the silly doodles from yesterday, and added in an old doodle of Elsie and Sunshine because Sunshine (massive centipede) is cute. 🥰

Part of me likes Sunshine matching Elsie’s color scheme, but they’re supposed to be like a celestial patron so maybe a golden sky color scheme would be better?? Maybe??

[age-of-moonknight]

Variant cover for Avengers (Vol. 9/2023), #7 by Marcos Martin.

[presidentofthelipglossclub]

no bc deadass the rescue bots are straight up mean as hell. like, they arent evil or immoral they’re just rude. to the point where they’re meaner than the decepticons ok like megatron kept avoiding actually gettind rid of starscream despite the constant murder attempts but heatwave was willing to get rid of two of the other bots (blades after he abandoned a rescue bc of an avalanche and blurr bc blurr). heatwave is more ruthless than megatron which is so damn funny. blades keeps insulting people for no good reason (sometimes it makes sense but like quickshadow’s accent and how she talks made him so upset). chase is harder to see but he’s willing to do anything to follow the rules and he tends to repeatedly bring up other people’s issues (i dont think i have to explain but like example is little white lies. that whole episode). boulder is very sweet most of the time but the instant heatwave gets in on it he does too. multiple times in the show this has happened (off the top of my head when blades got the scoop claw hw and boulder were laughing at him and when hw made fun of blades boulder laughed, also heatwave was saying blurr was super annoying and boulder agreed).

to be clear this is a good thing. i wanna see more complex characters who are still fundamentally good people!! you can be callous, have low empathy, be egotistical, get angry, make fun of ur friends and still make good choices and still help people. you at your worst and you at your best are still both you, but your worst being bad doesn’t mean your best isn’t good. especially because morality wise the rescue bots are the best people. i mean, they aren’t war criminals (or regular criminals), they don’t physically harm others, they don’t put others at risk (at least not intentionally), and they literally had to pretend to be actual machines while risking their lives every day. these people who treated them as essentially slaves were who they had to protect. and they did it, over and over again, without hesitation. and i think they deserve to be a bit rude for that, and because their meanness comes from caring. if they didn’t care they wouldn’t bother to speak up and be heard, even if it’s in a disrespectful way. but they do.

anyways idk rescue bots brainrot and the concept of a fundamentally good society have been eating away at me.

[yea-baiyi]

just reread the tgcf extras. tldr hualian’s married life is just, chilling, hanging out, having great sex. they are so free and comfortable, they spend so much time laughing together. which is exactly what marriage should be tbh (silently wipes away tears)

[mothusingtheinternet]

I wanna know what character trope y’all go insane for. It can be anything. Just put it in the tags.

[trekkele]

5 headcanons game: Kori as Bruce's daughter in law? 👀

- wander

1. Bruce is unsure about Kori in the beginning (shes so strong and powerful and he knows nothing about her!! Thats his baby she’s dating!!) but he promised himself he wouldn’t interfere with Dick’s team and he will not check her files without permission, he is holding himself back by the cape collar. He is unflinchingly polite to her, which makes Dick very uncomfortable.

(Bruce is rude. He is. Its how you know he trusts you.)

2. He doesnt know anything about her family until he asks Dick if she’d like to join them for Chanukah, and if there are any tamaranian holidays he’ll be joining her for. The conversation ends up goiing something like:

Dick: well considering her family are the ones that sold her into slavery i think she’ll be fine celebrating on - did you just snap the keyboard in half???

Bruce: is she allergic to wool and would she like a chanukah sweater? Nevermind, i’ll make her gloves and a sweater. I have blue cashmere yarn somewhere around here -

3. In the comics there are protests around alien-human marriages, and i think Bruce very publicly hires Kori to be the Wayne Enterprises spokesperson for one of their more popular divisions as a way of making his position clear. (I also think WE has a program for alien refugees on earth)

4. Kori has absolutely no problem calling Bruce out when he’s being particularly bad at communicating. Bruce appreciates it a lot, actually, and he finds himself calling her to chat when he knows he’s about to say something stupid.

5. Kori knows Bruce is desperate to make her feel comfortable in the manor, because if she’s comfortable Dick will come around more often, and she has no problem using that to her advantage. Donna doesn’t know why they go shopping in Gotham so often, but she isn’t complaining.

She also has no idea why Kori and Batman spar so often, but once again, not complaining. Watching Batman lose is very satisfying.

[running2reanimation]

Would you mind fanfic of your DND au?

it's ok if not

- @styck-figure

I wouldn’t mind at all! I’d be delighted, in fact!

[secondpersonpoetry]

ellen bass, “marriage”

[maxgicalgirl]

The OIAR staff are all in a polycule okay I don’t make the rules !!!!

[lunaelume-n]

want to know where the hannibal fans are that have an ugly past, that can’t always relate to knowing they’re really a good person inside. want to know where the hannibal fans are that struggle with terribly intrusive thoughts, that have acted immorally and have been genuinely unsafe or unhealthy for others, even others who were innocent. want to know where the hannibal fans are that grew up deeply questioning everything about reality to a disturbing level, and how isolating that felt. fans that struggle with feeling very angry and hurt, or just feeling their feelings all the time. if not feeling, analyzing everything, all the time. the fans that can’t always relate to being the victim of the story, but the person who’s done harm too. want to know where the hannibal fans are at that have genuinely wondered if something is severely wrong with them, and not because of their admiration for the show, but because of the ways they’ve behaved, things they’ve thought or said, interests they’ve had, but also because you grew up feeling less included than you’d like, so you just feel more odd than most, maybe even doomed sometimes. this show is a helpful tool in observing myself more objectively, and i appreciate that because i’ve been able to learn when to step back and let go, on top of applying other coping mechanisms i have. i do feel isolated in this fandom sometimes because while i know i am not my past and my mistakes or my struggles, i see many people online that i feel might not have strayed too far the way that i have, and while i have a general grasp on reality and morals, and i’d never intentionally act out of line with those morals now in my life, i have in the past, and i’ve been wrong, unsafe, and cruel. i’ve been able to reflect on myself and grow, so there’s comfort in that, but there’s still also the worry of “what if i am alone in this?” knowing how unlikely that is, given how many people are in the world.

[vi-sigoth]

Since you guys enjoyed our collaborative effort, SONGS TO KICK SOMEONE’S ASS TO, I thought I’d share my current playlist in progress, Female Fronted Metal. I’m going back and reliving my little tomboy goth metalhead high school days and re-listening to After Forever, Delain, Epica, Lacuna Coil, Nightwish, and Within Temptation (and in some cases, this is new listening; I lost track of Epica and WT after about 2012-ish) and adding my favorite tracks into one playlist. Check it out if you’re into any of these bands. Next on the docket is Delain’s Dark Waters (curious to see how they’re doing without Charlotte) Epica’s The Holographic Principal, Lacuna Coil’s Dark Adrenaline, Nightwish’s Dark Passion Play (which was my all time favorite album for about a decade) and Within Temptation’s Resist.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.

[suguann]

LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.

✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink

featuring. gojo, nanami, geto

masterlist

↬ GOJO

He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.

The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.

“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 

“They’re pretty, baby.”

Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”

“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”

His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 

Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.

He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.

Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.

Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 

Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.

A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 

“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”

Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 

↬ GETO

It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 

The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 

Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—

A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 

You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 

“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 

Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 

You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 

“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”

“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.

“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 

Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 

“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.

He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.

“Why’d you—”

“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”

↬ NANAMI

After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 

It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 

You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.

“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 

You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 

“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.

He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”

A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”

(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)

“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”

“B-but—”

Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 

Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 

His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."

It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.

“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 

[danveration]

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.